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 Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:19 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:20 pm
 
Kingdom ↠ Shahiti
Position ↠ Magic Professor
Full Name ↠ Izolda Egorova
Nickname ↠ Burgravine Egorova, Doctor Egorova, Professor Egorova
Age ↠ 56
Birthday ↠ August 18
Height ↠ 5'8"
Weight ↠ 125
Powers ↡
Reanimation - Izolda can reanimate the dead, up to an entire horde’s worth of flesh regardless of species, though it does get more difficult for her the more she raises. The dead do not regain their souls when raised, but she can have them speak if their vocal chords are intact, and can see through their eyes as though they are her own if they have them. If the brain is intact, she can even get a sense for their most recent memories. At her most powerful, she can have the reanimated dead manipulate the magical abilities they used in life, but this is extremely draining, and she's not getting any younger. She is at her strongest in the depths of the night, or in a dark room.
Resurrection - An ability that is much more difficult for Izolda to control, she is capable of returning the freshly–or semi-freshly dead to life. It is best practiced in darkness, but even then sometimes things can go…wrong.
Personality ↡
The sort of person who neglects her personal life in favor of work; displays symptoms of bipolar disorder, with manic highs and depressive lows. Abrasive, cares little for the feelings of most people, and has less patience as well, save for those she views very highly, which are few and far between. Has a lot of pride. Drinks too much.
Political Opinion ↠ She holds keen interest in the nations as a whole--or, more precisely, in the magical abilities produced within their respective peoples.
Alore is an age old enemy of her home country, the indelible yang to their yin, but this does not make them Shahiti's equal. On the contrary, darkness is the absence of light, and the natural state of the universe, with plenty of cosmological evidence indicating that the inevitable fate of every star in the sky is to one day burn out. Light is useful, but unlasting. She believes Alore will burn bright for a time before Shahiti consumes it, though it certainly won't happen in her lifetime.
Also, Phronese is not the end-all-be-all of knowledge and scientific discovery, and every arrogant Phronesian who believes otherwise can get ******** style="font-size: 11px">Biography ↡
Izolda was born to a near penniless family that had lost much of its prestige and influence over the course of the war, though it was only one of many that had gone bankrupt due to the financial stresses that come from such long term conflicts. As the only child, the only daughter, Izolda was groomed to be the wife of the heir of another noble family that had the money to provide her with a proper education. Izolda met her fiancé only a year before they were to be wed, and while she grew fond of him, there was little respect or romantic love between them. Still, he didn’t interfere with her personal life overly much, so she didn’t mind the marriage.
Out of patriotic duty and scientific curiosity and a need for money, she wound up employed by the Shahati military, working in the science division, and coming to specialize in analyzing and improving first the abilities of their own soldiers, and then prisoners of war. Due to her necromantic magic, she worked primarily with corpses and microscope slides, but there were plenty of occasions where she worked with live humans, usually Shahit soldiers who had volunteered (or were volunteered) to increase their own power. It helped improve and strengthen her own powers, but there was a cost, as was well known in her family. Working so heavily with such magics affected her fertility, as it had done with her own father, and she suffered a number of miscarriages throughout her marriage, eventually finding herself with only one child who survived infancy: her son, Valentin.
It was unfortunate that she was not the nurturing sort. She neglected her relationships with her family in favor of traveling the world in her research for the military, which she worked under contract with for decades while taking private commissions on the side. Her husband, who had been far more interested in working with finances, died amid his important paperwork of a heart attack. When her son was conscripted into the military, she offered him little comfort; to serve Shahiti’s royal family was an honor, where was his pride as a countryman? Where was his sense of loyalty to serve again and again and again? However, when the military introduced the idea of a breeding program to produce stronger soldiers, her own patriotism faltered. Had she been fifteen years younger, she likely would have been a victim of such a program, her brilliance neglected in favor of being the military’s broodmare; and it was her own brilliance in the field of magic that had led to such a program being proposed.
This also happened to be around the time that she was approached by Marie Gunter, who offered her a different deal. The woman could see an end to the war, and a way that Izolda could pursue her research without danger of it being used by a corrupt, inept king, if she only joined her and provided her support. Izolda accepted, abandoning her country to become a citizen of Utopia.
Her son has not spoken to her since.
Likes ↡
Drinking
Research
High Heels
Pineapple
Being right
Dislikes ↡
Interruptions
People she considers idiots
Overly sweet things
Sunny days
Being wrong
Misc. Info ↡
Her grandmother was a woman from Siscia, resulting in an interesting twist to the family line’s known abilities in subsequent generations.
Her son Valentin is now thirty years old. She has not spoken to him in five years. He has not spoken to her in seven.
Theme Songs ↠
Eat Your Young
Cosmic Love
Nothing
Username ↠ Nebula Arisen
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:20 pm
Kingdom ↠ Alore
Position ↠ Dancing Instructor
Full Name ↠ Nehal Nishant
Nickname ↠ There's no one left to call them by those names.
Age ↠ 37
Birthday ↠ February 14
Height ↠ 5'11"
Weight ↠ 220 lbs
Powers ↡
Aurorakinesis - They can use aurora energy to shape into attacks, often in the shape of spheres or beams, and solidify it into a trail that they can ride, as well as project auroras up into the air in a dazzling display. The more concentrated the energy, the more dangerous it is for others to touch.
Aurora Mimicry - After a great deal of experimentation with Izolda Egorova, Nehal can now even turn into an aurora, becoming intangible and gossamer up until they use themself as a weapon. They cannot fully turn it off, either, with their hair now constantly fluttering and flickering with light; there is concern that if they fully give into this ability, they will not be able to return to human form.
Personality ↡
Nehal is very much a social butterfly, enjoying meeting new people and learning what they can bring to the table. They are warm and bombastic up until you upset them, and then they are cool and catty, though no less dramatic. They do try to keep an open mind, but there are some topics they will not budge on, and woe upon you if you stumble right into those topics. They enjoy anything bright and larger than life, and sometimes have to be dragged back down to earth before they get carried away with their ideas; behind closed doors they tend to be calmer and more prone to melancholy.
Political Opinion ↠ Nehal holds complicated feelings for their home country, a mess of yearning, resentment and bitterness; meanwhile, their feelings for Hyouden are simple and clean cut: hate. Their viewpoint of the other countries is that their political leaders have clearly been doing very poorly for Marie and her people to have been compelled to step in. Any that uphold slavery as legal is Nehal’s enemy.
Biography ↡
The merchant class is often one at odds with larger society: low born yet wealthy; necessary yet disdained. It is not uncommon for the peasantry and nobility to agree that merchants are greedy, sycophantic creatures yearning for ever more money and power, and they aren’t even entirely wrong.
Still, the caravan of merchant families that made the perilous journey beyond the nation’s borders on behalf of Alore had been Nehal’s entire life. As the eldest of three thus far, they had been expected to train a keen eye and charming disposition with their mothers, though they had also enjoyed harassing the caravan’s hired mercenaries to learn how to wield a sword as they all did. When they weren’t learning their numbers and the value of silk, they were looking after their younger sisters and playing house or heroes and villains with the other merchant children.
Then, as the caravan neared the border of Chronos, they were ambushed by what at first glance appeared to be mere bandits. It should have been easy to fend them off, but as their wagons were destroyed by spires of ice, the adults suddenly understood: these were the soldiers of Hyouden, far from home in their search for slaves and goods. Nehal had to watch their mothers be turned into frozen statues and shattered before their eyes, and attempted to defend their sisters, but they were too small, too weak. The three were stolen away, as were many of the other survivors of the slaughter.
The journey to Hyouden was long and merciless. Nehal’s youngest sister, Aruna, only recently two years old, did not survive it, and Nehal clung ever tighter to their only remaining sister, Rupali, and the other children they had grown up with. Many more did not live to see their destination, and in some ways Nehal was glad for it; they could find no beauty in Hyouden, only cold bleak desolation. Presumed male, they were quickly separated from Rupali to be trained as a warrior, and they struggled to survive the harsh conditions and their harsher masters. Their only ray of light was the brief moments they got to see their sister, for the masters were doing their best to turn the slaves’ ire upon each other, and it wasn’t difficult when they were still children.
Thus far, Nehal had yet to learn what their special ability was, if they even had one at all. Then, on one long night, the dark sky burst with colors of a shimmering vibrancy they had never seen before. The locals referred to it as the great halls of their gods, and in that moment Nehal knew. They would make those halls their own, and show these slavers a wrath the likes of which they had never seen before. Though their soul cried to drape themself in the veils billowing in the sky then and there, Nehal made themself small, and they planned and they schemed with those willing to collaborate.
Their path to adulthood was treacherous. They marched out under Hyouden orders, and committed terrible sins that they knew they could never atone for, even if they were at the behest of clenched fists and ice sharper than blades. They could only hope that one day their planned revolt made it all even the smallest bit worth it. Then the day came and they dragged the halls of the gods down to veil themself with, and slaughtered the battalion they had been placed with. Rebellion spread through Hyouden’s army like a wildfire, slaves from enemy nations coming together to fight for their freedom, and amid the turmoil, Nehal returned north to retrieve their sister, but too late.
The rebellion had tried to spark within Hyouden itself, but was swiftly doused by a people comfortable in the extreme environment and plenty capable with their freezing abilities. Rupali was among those killed in the attempt, and all of Nehal’s nebulous dreams of returning home to Alore shattered. Instead, they drew to them those freed people who had survived the rebellion, and sought a place safe from the war.
Of course, there were none. This was when they met Marie Anna Gunter, who cast a bid for their favor. Help burgeon her army with their freemen, and she would provide them all with safe harbor in a new country. She would win the war. It was a beacon they could not resist, and they worked hard to grow stronger and help lead Marie’s armies, going so far down the rabbit hole with Izolda Egorova that they were irrevocably changed. Then the war was won, and they were done. They could rest. They could live, whatever that meant in the wake of everything.
In their efforts to find out, Marie realized their talent and love for dance, and invited them into the academy as a dance instructor. Unable to deny her after everything she had done for them, they accepted.
Likes ↡
sesame chicken and chocolate truffles
romance novels
stargazer lilies
flower scented perfumes
compliments
fashion
swords and collecting them
people watching
dancing and singing
Dislikes ↡
rudeness
stains
cooking
being ignored
winter and the cold
ignorance
cliffhangers
making mistakes in public
Misc. Info ↡
Their hair once held a redder hue before they allowed Izolda to experiment on them; now it is permanently kin to an oil slick, undulating with the colors of the aurora borealis underneath. The further down you go, the more intangible their hair is. Their eye color is also a brighter, more unnatural violet than it was previously.
Nehal went out of their way to find a healer to get rid of their scars, and is very rigorous about going to a healer for every little scrape they get to prevent more scarring.
After a number of unpleasant encounters, Nehal is sex repulsed.
When they aren't at the academy or practicing their singing and dancing, they're checking in on their friends within Utopi, and lending aid in reconstruction efforts.
Their singing voice.
Theme Songs ↠
Don't You Worry, Child
YOKU
Fashion
Username ↠ Nebula Arisen
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:20 pm
Kingdom ↠ Hyouden
Position ↠ Self Defence Teacher
Full Name ↠ Serge Ded Morzo
Nickname ↠ Uncle Serge
Age ↠ 64
Birthday ↠ February 25th
Height ↠ 6'6
Weight ↠ 268
Powers ↡
Ice Transmutation - Serge possesses a unique ability to transform matter and objects, including living beings, into ice. He can move and Manipulate these Ice Sculptures at will, but they easily shatter when hit at weak points.
Subconscious Manipulation - By manipulating his target's subconscious, Serge can achieve various results by planting ideas, self-doubt, and fear. As long as you are within his sights, he can plant a thought so loud you can't ignore it or so soft it will sit there and fester, grow, and grow until it is something you can't help but act on.
Personality ↡
Serge comes off as friendly, comfortable, and confident with his students. A kind old man with tired eyes worn by years of war, whose primary goal is to ensure the safety of all royals. Anyone from Hyouden can tell you a completely different story. But for some strange reason, they can't bring themselves to spill what they know of him; it's a warning in the back of their mind that tells them it's better, safer, not to.
Political Opinion ↠ As a war general, his allegiance falls to his home country Hyouden. He witnessed firsthand the ugly in all kingdoms through his many hostage negotiations. There is not one kingdom outside of his own that earns his favor. If he had to select one, though, it would be the lights of Alore, for they are most beautiful when dancing over the powder of freshly fallen snow.
Biography ↡
From the very beginning of Serge's life, a chilling prophecy was etched deep in the stone of his home. The gruesome carvings, a stark reminder of the sins Hyouden committed, depicted the year of his birth. "Beware the son of Slaves, for he shall bring the downfall of all Hyouden was built upon." This was the oracle's ominous warning, a prophecy that would shape Serge's destiny and the fate of Hyouden.
The narrative, etched into the depths of Serge's memory, was a relentless reminder of his duty as the b*****d son of King Sesmar. His role was to govern the slave population and assist his younger brother in his ascent to the throne. However, as he matured, an insatiable desire, a yearning for a destiny beyond the confines of his birthright, began to consume him. This internal conflict, this battle between duty and personal ambition, was a struggle he grappled with daily. He was resolute in his determination to forge his own path, one that would lead him to his true purpose, regardless of the price.
Well into Serge's adolescence, a second power began to surface. He found that he could not only manipulate ice but also delve into the embryonic thoughts of others—a fragile, otherworldly blossom that he could nurture and guide. This revelation, this singular gift, not only elevated his status among his many siblings and the future king of Hyouden but also drastically altered the dynamics of their relationships, giving him more than the life offered as a Ded Morzo. He discovered that he could implant ideas into the king's mind and the minds of others, and over time, these ideas would become their own, shaping their actions and decisions and, ultimately, the stability of the kingdom.
Strategically, Serge sowed seeds of discord between the Hyouden military and the Royals. His calculated influence goaded war generals into making reckless moves against the neighboring kingdoms, moves that would exact a heavy toll on Hyouden's essential trade routes. He incited sole sympathizers who would, in turn, set them free, costing the kingdom a significant amount of money, time, and resources to replace them. The repercussions of his actions were extensive, posing a threat to the stability of the kingdom and the safety of his brother's reign. When the kingdom was teetering on the edge, about to snap, he planted the seed in his brother's mind to oust their uncle as the current war general and install Serge in his place. A conflict erupted between the brothers soon after, resulting in the loss of a limb in their family tree, and the war general's position passed to Serge, solidifying the unfiltered and unpredictable power of his manipulation.
In the following years, Serge made a deliberate effort to rebuild the military under his control without the aid of forced suggestions. Relying on his own fark will and charm, he became a highly respected member of the royal family. Things were looking up for him, so much so that other kingdoms began offering their offspring in hopes of forging a stronger alliance with the Kingdom. Serge was above such arrangements and had no intention of tying himself down with a family. Until he met Zephorah, a daughter of Winduria with a will that fought with the force of a storm, Serge had never been willing to bend for anyone. But she sparked a romantic passion in his otherwise power-driven life. This unexpected encounter twisted Serge's course, and his infatuation with her grew into an insatiable hunger. When he saw the same hunger in the eyes of his king, Serge did everything he could to prevent their union, urging Zephorah to choose him and love him instead. In their many rendezvous, Serge tried to bring a child that would link them together for life but found himself seedless.
Despite Zephera's claims of love for both him and the king, her unyielding pursuit of power proved to overshadow everything. She made the choice to marry the king and become the queen of Hyouden, leaving Serge in court to await the birth of a male heir. The first two children were girls and held no significance in terms of inheritance, but their third child, a sickly-looking son, solidified his place in the kingdom. Serge decided to leave court life soon after, despite Zephra's pleas. He headed to the borders to deal with the slaves and their kingdom's fast expansion. In the following years, Serge connected with other kingdom officials, using his powers to convince them to hand over their hostages of war. They all agreed, with or without the knowledge of their royals, and planned to place their hostages in specific city drop points for collection.
Serge honed his army with these captured hostages, using them as examples to prepare his troops for battle. Once beaten and battered, he went after their spirits, forcing them to dig up the stone used for power-stunting weapons within the deep mines there. He kept them locked beneath the stone until they begged for the light of day once more. With their souls shattered, he cycled them to his army, forcing them to the front lines to commit atrocities while they battled against their own people.
Serge worked day in and day out, years blurring together within the thrum of war and manipulation. He hadn't even heard of Zephera's death until a runt of a child showed up at his doorstep. An idea sparked, and little did Serge know what power he held with this child in the palm of his hand.
Likes ↡
□War The thrill of battle - It's where he feels at home.
□Stretching before Sparring - It's good to get everything nice and loose.
□Creating Chaos - Peace is so boring, let me just feed these dark thoughts of yours.
□Manipulating Ideas - Yes, it was your idea to hurt that person. Now, let me inflict the consequences.
□Dark Chocolat - It's even better melted down and mixed into warm milk.
□Cookies - He can go a little buck wild with cookies, so Serge only lets himself indulge once a year.
□Learning about all the different abilities and how to combat them.
□Woodworking - He has a knack for creating wooden figurines.
Dislikes ↡
■His Brother, The King of Hyouden
■Kids - he can't have any, so this comes out in disdain for the small beings.
■Whining - He doesn't want to hear that it hurts, he knows. He's the one inflicting it.
■Summer Heat - How do people function outside? He sunburns easily
■Onions - It's a texture thing.
■Bad Hygiene
Misc. Info ↡
► Color for Speech : #4a3512 ►►►►
► He enjoyed the songs slaves would sing while working - He often whistled the songs while walking.
► He is well-versed in all weapons from neighboring kingdoms and has learned how to best combat them without abilities.
► He never drinks - opting to keep his mental state honed at all times.
► It's very hard to tell if he has planted a thought into your brain - but you might notice a chilled sensation before thinking about it.
► Ringing in the ears/Headaches are common after completing an Idea he has planted.
► He is good at collecting information or getting people to collect it for him.
► His voice is Kratos - God of War Ragnarock
► He has more style than his Nephew.
► It's not easy to make Serge Angry, but he does know how to hold a grudge.
► When he loves something, he obsesses over it.
► Does not do well with the term "No"
►Does not believe he did anything wrong In the war, since none of it can be proven and traced back to him.
► He has a "Naughty" tattooed on his right forearm and a "Nice" tattoo on his left.
Theme Songs ↠
Make a Man Out Of you - Peyton Perrish
Deliver us - Prince of Egypt. Lets pretend its Ice LOL
HellFire - Peyton Parrish
Username ↠ Rob-N-H00d
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:21 pm
Kingdom ↠ Thah
Position ↠ History Teacher
Full Name ↠ Langalibelele Yezikhulumi
Nickname ↠ Langa, Langali
Age ↠ 48
Birthday ↠ October 8
Height ↠ 6'1"
Weight ↠ 199 lbs
Powers ↡
Fungal Hive - Langali can create spores that infect living creatures or plant fungi in new places, and can encourage the fungi to grow at a much faster rate. There are various levels of infection depending on what he desires: one is simply connecting a person to a mycelium network so that they may convey or receive information mentally, fully consensually. Another is bringing a person fully under his mental control, allowing them to see, hear, and experience what he wishes them to. One more is fully infecting a person’s body, enabling him to control that body until it can no longer function. The control can be fought off by particularly strong minds or souls, but it’s not easy when he and the others in the network are usually working together to bring someone into the fold. He has a deep connection to one particular mycelium network that grows beneath the ground, passing along souls and information from one branch to another, or from one body to another. If the network gets its tendrils into a body that has been dead recently enough that there is still flesh on the bones, it can absorb that body’s memories, and even its soul. All these features weaken in cooler and drier climates, while growing astronomically in strength within hot and humid ones.
Flower Production - A passive ability that has flowers growing out of Langali’s hair. He cannot control it, and the flowers are a good indicator of how healthy he is. It does not hurt when they’re plucked. Perhaps as a byproduct of this, his blood has a greenish tint to it the closer it flows to his hair.
Personality ↡
Langali’s base self is a kind, loving man who wants what’s best for the people in his life, treating everyone and everything he considers his responsibility with deep care, patience, and devotion. He’s a force of positivity, always looking on the bright side of things, and careful to remind himself and others of things they should remain grateful to have even in the worst of situations. He is slow to anger in defense of himself, but deeply protective of others. He will do what must be done, and put aside his sorrow and rage to the side to handle later, if at all. Were it not for the ukuxhum, he would be far more absentminded than what he comes across as.
Political Opinion ↠ While Langali stands with Thah, he admires and sympathizes with the people of his enemies, especially those of whom he is deeply familiar with. Were he all the power in the world, he would simply unite everyone into one people to stop the cycle of war and hatred.
Biography ↡
The youngest of his royal siblings, Langali spent a great deal of his childhood sheltered from the war on his country’s doorstep, and his family sought to keep him that way, to capture his innocence in a bottle that they may occasionally take off the shelf to admire and take comfort in. His open cheer and kindness was a salve, and he understood little else than to provide it. He remained firmly ensconced in the royal palace where he was thought to be safe. Then a plague fell upon the capital, sweeping through more effectively than any army, and Langali was among the masses who grew sick.
It started with a fever that progressed into terrible pain and frightening seizures. He deteriorated quickly, and all too soon he was so ill that he could hardly move of his own accord. In spite of his family’s best efforts and the parade of healers they brought in, the reality was that not even Langali could remain untouched by the effects of the war. His parents had to concede to the inevitable.
He was dying.
With his end drawing near, Langali was carried out of the capital and taken to the jungles in the west where Thah laid its kings and kin to rest. Leaders from across the country would go here to directly consult their ancestors for their wisdom and guidance, for a mycelium network stretched out beneath the forestry, its tendrils cocooning and absorbing the dead. Strong minds could resist the inherent draw of what was known as the ukuxhum, the connection, such as the priests that tended to the royal sepulchers and could use it to speak with the voices of kings past. Langali’s parents, however, intended not for him to resist.
If everything that made him their son could live on in the mycelium network, if the ukuxhum could take him mind and soul before his body failed him, then they wouldn’t truly be losing him at all. While it was unusual to proceed with someone so young, those that guarded the sacred grove could hardly deny the king and his queen their heartfelt desire. Langali would not rest in quartzite as other royal children had before him; he would join his ancestors, and still be able to speak and play through the actions of his priests for centuries to come. His family could come see him, and still know the comfort of his presence in person rather than through memory, and then, if fate was kind, later join him when their own times came. They laid him amidst the fruit that sprouted from the earth, and waited for death to take him.
Too fevered to be fully conscious, Langali laid upon the graves of those who had come before him, breathing in the spores that gently misted around him, eyelids fluttering restlessly. Kept apart from the arms of his family, left to pass alone so that the mycelium wouldn’t touch those it shouldn’t, Langali was overcome by the encroaching shadows of death. Then, in that darkness, he heard a voice…then another…and another…and then so many that he realized he could hardly hear himself think. They whispered to him, comforted him, and showed him that he was not alone in his final hour, reassuring him that this was not to be his final breath, but their first. His fever faded and sensation returned to him, spreading from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes until finally they moved.
Langali walked away from the graves under his own power, and his family rejoiced, but not for long. Langali was no longer himself–or rather, he was not just himself. Initially, he seemed to be his usual self, though understandably a bit shaken by the experience, and he spoke of voices that the priests assured him was the sound of his forefathers and mothers. However, even as the adults in his life promised him that he should not be alarmed, they all began to feel so themselves as the voices never appeared to leave him as they should have once he was beyond the grove’s reach.
The dead should only visit the realm of the living, not take up residence in their children.
Many took it as a sign of the divine. Langali could speak in the voices of past kings, and offer advice and insight in court or at the war table. Others did not appreciate that the dead walked among them so freely. There was a reason that the living traveled to the grove to accept their ancestors’ wisdom rather than invite them back into their daily lives. He needed to return to where he belonged, back to the jungle; back to the graves where he should have died. While his family argued strongly for him to stay in the capital, too many rumors that they had brought a curse upon themselves had already spread; if they wanted to keep the peace, they needed to return him to the grove where he would be raised by the priests who best understood the ways of souls and the mycelium.
Thus, Langali returned to the grove, but was not especially bothered by the decision. Any homesickness and loneliness he felt was swept away by the voices that swarmed in his mind. He was never truly alone, and wasn’t that what he had wanted in his last moments? Not to wait for death by himself, but to have someone, anyone, with him? So, he resided on his–no, their gravestones, acting as their duty permitted, often alone, but never lonely. The years he spent being raised and educated by the priests and his ancestors were peaceful. Akin to his earlier childhood, he was hidden away from the direct consequences of politics and warfare, living a largely peaceful existence. News from outside the grove was provided increasingly by messengers as the noble leaders of Thah had less opportunity to visit, including his own family. Still, he, the ukuxhum, and the priests offered insight and wisdom where they could, hoping to help in whatever small way they could.
Then the plague that had swept through the capital found its way to the grove, and as Langali watched the priests he had grown to care for begin to wither away from illness, he had a thought. A thought that the ukuxhum latched onto with such desire that he could not, and did not want to stop the hand that offered not just a final breath, but a first. The first priest they reached out to, Thandiwe, grabbed hold, and they were of one mind, one soul, but two bodies.
It was a breach of precedence. Only priests with noble lineages could join the ukuxhum upon death, and Thandiwe had merely been a peasant with a talent in working with the mycelium. Not only that, but he was still alive, though the ukuxhum did not take as kindly to his body as it had to Langali’s. Not that that was important, not when Thandiwe’s soul and memories were kept safe within the network. Emboldened by pure joy, Langali went to every priest on death’s door, and offered them his hand. More and more joined, until all that was left were those who had survived the illness, and they could do little but bow their heads in the wake of his kindness. Many of them decided to take the honor of joining the connection more fully, while others held back out of a sense of unworthiness; the offer was always on the table, however, for Langali–they?–Langali? They cared. What they cared for, Langali did, and what Langali cared for, so too did they.
And they would be of far more use to Thah than what hiding away like a hermit in the wilderness granted. They offered their hand to one of the royal messengers, and sent a message to the new king of Thah, Langali’s brother, no, son? Nephew? Great grandchild? Their new liege.
They did not need to wait long. They were invited back to the capital, where they fell into deep discussion with the king over how they could best aid their country as the war consumed the world. The king realized Langali could make for an amazing information gatherer, and provided them with their own command, the soldiers of which all wound up joining the network to some degree or another. With Thah so under duress, constantly on the knife’s edge of being overtaken, it was growing ever more important to ensure the preservation of its most important aspect: the people that made it.
Hence, Langali was sent to the borders, which they proceeded to strengthen. They drew a long line in the dirt, and if the enemy proceeded over it, they would be…taken. Foreign warriors laughed in the face of this little known prince, and then laughed no more when, in the battles following their first encounter, they realized they were not just fighting Thah men, but their own. Parasite ridden corpses that were a mockery of their fallen brothers and sisters, and would fight, and fight, and fight until they were cut down to be little more than lumps of flesh.
It was a tragedy, one that Langali grew more and more intimate with the more souls he added to the network. First, it was just to attain information, and then, exposed to the people behind the memories, it became about not just saving Thah through preservation, but all whom the network could reach. Langali had known since his assimilation that war was a miserable, awful thing, but now he saw it from so many angles, saw all the little tragedies experienced by the common person drawn into the machinations of those too proud to give where instead they could take. There had to be a solution, perhaps multiple, and he–they would be one.
Inch by inch, Thah won back territory, and inch by inch Langali’s terrifying reputation grew. Soldiers fled if they learned it was Langali at the head, and when his forces finally regained most of the land Thah had lost since the start of the war, he drew another line in the dirt. They would not abide enemies attempting to push in, but no longer would they push outward any further either, even at the king’s behest. Let his other forces do so, for Langali took no pleasure in the acts of war, and would only maintain the borders so that there were fewer losses of life.
Langali held that line for years, only accepting orders to pass the borders in pursuit of hunting down slavers taking their most valuable resources. When the war ended, there was much rejoicing, and Langali was bid to return to the capital to spend time with their family. It was not difficult to hear news of the Peacebringer’s Utopia, and upon hearing that his brother’s children would essentially be made Marie Gunter’s hostages at the academy, Langali got into contact with her to be let onto her teaching staff.
Likes ↡
birds
rain
acapella
spider lilies and sweet pea
papaya and avocado
board games
heat
flower arranging
long walks
Dislikes ↡
being rushed
chocolate and lemons
cold
rough fabrics
clutter
but also when things are too clean
Misc. Info ↡
the freckles on his face are actually a bio-luminescent byproduct of the mycelium network living beneath his skin; these freckles will appear on those he's infected as well
very good at mimicking bird calls
can hold as still as a statue for an alarming amount of time. it's hell on his joints these days, though.
he stares into space and appears to talk to himself a lot, and sometimes will hush people in his company so he can better hear what those in the ukuxhum are saying, or vice versa
it's difficult to tell when he's ceded control of his body to another soul unless the personality change is particularly drastic
Theme Songs ↠
Willow Tree March
My Friends
Crystal
Username ↠ Nebula Arisen
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:21 pm
Kingdom ↠ Phronese
Position ↠ Literature Professor
Full Name ↠ Evelyn Avery Beckett
Nickname ↠ Evy
Age ↠ 36
Birthday ↠ September 1
Height ↠ 5'7"
Weight ↠ 162 lbs
Powers ↡
Papyrokinesis - Evelyn is capable of controlling paper to an extensive degree, as she can telekinetically move, shape, compress, and sharpen it, as well as increase the density thereof. However, fire is still a major weakness, and if water dampens the paper she's using, it makes it that much harder to manipulate. She can also impart simple instructions onto the paper, such as "deliver yourself to Marie Gunter," and it will be able to maintain its purpose outside of her typical range.
Book Jumping - If it’s shaped like a book and reads like a book, she can transport herself and others of her choosing into them, regardless of whether its fiction or nonfiction. She and others can either take on the roles of particular characters, act as unseen observers, or be themselves within the story at her discretion.
Personality ↡
Evelyn is a high energy, cheerful person who looks for the good in the people around her, and prefers a peaceful resolution to a violent one. She is typically polite even in casual settings, but sometimes her curiosity can lead her to ask uncomfortable, probing questions that should be expected from a Phronesian. On that note, she loves to learn, and takes delight in sharing that love with other people, in helping and teaching them. She can get obsessive over things, and forget to perform even basic self care when she gets overly involved. She's a fighter, but not in the physical sense; she is fully prepared to argue and defend her beliefs to death, and has a fierce temper that can be sparked if the right buttons are pushed. She likes to think herself a paragon of virtue, and believes strongly in justice and the rights of others, but she's not a stranger to dirty tactics.
Political Opinion ↠ Every country is fascinating in its own right, and Evelyn likes to believe herself above prejudice, but…well, she has some bones to pick! Look at Chronos with its abilities to access both the past and the future, and not sharing any of that knowledge! Gatekeepers! Corthyr’s business practices are absolutely abhorrent, Mars and Hyouden are akin in their absurd barbarism, and the whispers of what Shahiti has been researching gives her the heebie-jeebies! Phronese has no lack of its own problems, but looking at those countries makes her the slightest bit more grateful to have been born there, which is incredibly annoying!
Also, Thah’s megafauna and flora makes ever visiting there an immediate no for her.
Siscia? She doesn't want to talk about Siscia.
Biography ↡
Evelyn’s life began in Windsor’s Home for Young Girls, set within the fringes of the nation’s capital. She never knew her parents, and never knew what had led to her being left on an orphanage’s front step as an infant, save for that it was likely due to the war. Most things could be blamed on the war. She didn’t dwell on it very often, as there was always much to do in Windsor’s Home in order to keep a young lady’s mind occupied, such as cleaning, running errands, and working at the brass mill down the street. There were lessons, too, on occasion, when one of the two matrons who ran the Home had the time to spare.
There was less time than anyone cared to discuss, for orphanages were all the rage in those days, what with the war. There were too many homeless children, and not enough space or people willing to take them on. The girls were sent to work at the brass mill in shifts when they were of an age where they weren’t too clumsy, and certainly Evelyn was one of those girls once she was considered competent enough at four years old. What little money they were paid was directed to the Home’s funds, which kept their roof over their heads, and bought them food and clothing. Evelyn would come to work a total of twelve hours a day, five days a week, which seemed a blessing in comparison to the older girls who worked everyday of the week for a stipend that wasn’t worth very much more than a child’s.
Those older girls were stuck, Evelyn came to well know. Stuck living at Windsor’s until they were adopted, and if not that, then married, and if not that, then, well. Nobody liked to talk about the girls who would disappear once it was clear that their prospects were null. Nobody liked to talk about the girls who disappeared off the streets on their way to the mill, or back to the Home again. Nobody liked to talk about the girls who would be eaten by mechanical jaws, losing hands and feet and lives. Nobody liked to talk about an awful lot of things, but what was discussed quite fervently among the girls was the Standardized Phronese Intelligence Quotient test, otherwise known as SPIQT. SPIQT determined an individual’s level of intelligence, which then determined an individual’s placement in society. The higher your score, the better your prospects. In Windsor’s Home, the higher your score, the more likely you were to be adopted. If not adopted, then married. If not married, then, well, Evelyn had heard tales of particularly intelligent women leaving Windsor’s of their own volition, courted by institutions rather than men.
Every girl in Windsor’s Home wanted to be adopted, or married, or courted, and so when they weren’t cleaning, or running errands, or working at the mill, they would get together in small groups to help each other learn to read, write, and do mathematics. Newspapers were hoarded for the treasure troves that they were, with paragraphs upon paragraphs pinned to walls, circled and underlined with what little ink they could spare. Books were well loved until their bindings fell apart, and then someone would inevitably rebind it, sometimes with the pages out of order, and always, always with notes in the margins. Girls quizzed each other on math equations, on the latest bits of scientific discoveries that they could get their hands on, on anything they could think of at all that may help raise their score.
And then at the end of the year, every girl in Windsor’s Home would pay the small fee required to take the test. Evelyn began taking SPIQT from the time she was old enough to work, and while each year her score increased, it was never quite enough to entice someone to adopt her. There was always someone smarter, brighter, better, and couples looking to adopt were few and far between in the midst of the war. Evelyn was always happy for the girls who got adopted into better lives, of course she was, but as time increasingly slipped away from her, dread began to trickle down her spine, and desperation clawed at her mind. She and a few other like minded girls got together in secret to dissect SPIQT and how to manipulate it so that they achieved high scores without drawing suspicion.
In their months of strategizing, Evelyn and her friends learned of how fallible the test truly was at the end of the day, and while their plan to game the system never changed, it did expand so that their fellow girls, then and in the future, could benefit from their knowledge. While most of the girls in her circle went on to gain high scores and were adopted or married out, Evelyn and a couple others remained behind to coach younger girls in secret up to their final year of childhood. In her final year at Windsor’s Home, Evelyn ensured multiple successors to keep up her work long after she was gone, and secured a high score for herself in what would be her last intelligence test.
The results attracted the attention of one of the best schools in Phronese: the Highgrove Institute for Higher Learning. While she no longer had to do millwork, the Institute was no more relaxing a lifestyle. She found herself studying near constantly and burdened with an abundance of schoolwork. Between that and the apparent class differences between herself and her so-called peers, it was difficult to make friends or connections…at least until she met Rickard Beckett, a young man she found herself enjoying having heated discussions and debates with. They had quite a few interests in common, both drawn to the softer sciences of literature, history, language studies and the budding subject of psychology. They began to seek each other out for more than just witty exchanges, and before Evelyn knew it she was being introduced to his parents and getting married before she even graduated from Highgrove.
While his parents never fully approved of her, as he was lower nobility and expected to marry within his own station, they were gracious enough to step aside for the sake of their son’s happiness, and grew more endeared to her as the years passed. It was apparent to everyone around them how much the couple adored and respected each other. Evelyn supported his interest in history and archeology, while Rickard enthused over her desire to teach, and all their dreams seemed possible and within reach even amidst the war so long as they were together. At her encouragement, Rickard interned quite a bit out in the countryside in caves and shoulder deep pits with what was fondly known as the Fossil Corp, while Evelyn remained in the capital to write up essays and act as a teaching assistant to her professors to gain the necessary experience and connections required to work professionally within Highgrove.
Graduation wound up a shock to the system, as she suddenly had an ample amount of leisure time and resources at her fingertips due to her husband’s place in society. It was a frustrating marvel to learn that he had never had to worry about intelligence tests like SPIQT, as his societal placement was predetermined from the moment he was born. His lifestyle that had become her own seemed so far away from her time in the orphanage, where the walls had been covered in yellowing newspaper annotated with different handwriting and everyone had the same exhausted, frantic hope in their eyes as she did. With the distance of time, it all seemed like an awful dream…or like her marriage was a beautiful one that threatened to dissipate in a heartbeat, leaving her to blink awake in her bed at Windsor’s.
Evelyn gained her teaching license with her husband cheering her on every step of the way even as he helped make discoveries that quietly rocked the scientific world, and over the next several years she climbed the ladder from teaching assistant to actual teacher within the institute. Though her childhood still haunted her, she felt she was comfortable enough in where her journey had taken her; she and Rickard were even talking about having children now that they were both fairly settled in their careers.
Then Rickard was killed by Siscian soldiers while en route to a dig site. A byproduct of not just the war, high tensions, and twitchy sword hands, but because his dealing and peddling of ancient artifacts had gotten him in trouble with Siscian authorities. She regretted encouraging him to pursue his dreams. She regretted marrying him. She regretted falling in love with him when the loss of him gouged a hole so deep it felt as though she could never fill it. She fell into a deep despair that she could only escape through her beloved books–and quite literally, as her grief unlocked an ability hidden within her: the power to step into the stories told behind the ink. She took a sabbatical, and spent months escaping her reality until she made the mistake of stepping into her own journal. She relived dozens of little moments she had shared with Rickard during their time together, and it rent her heart in two all over again. She had to finally step away and back into reality, where she mourned.
Time continued to roll on with or without her permission, and she returned to work. In her off time she helped her in-laws manage their estate and the citizens under their purview, and, operating under the assertion that she had no intention of remarrying and having children if they weren’t Rickard’s, sought out as many orphans as she could afford to sponsor. She made regular donations to Windsor’s Home as well, in the hopes of relieving some of the burden that she remembered suffering under while she was growing up. To that end, she spent years trying to rally her peers and those above her into abolishing SPIQT and the systems that supported it, but it was an uphill battle against a boulder. She had better luck lobbying for the rights of working children, setting the minimum age that Phronesian citizens could begin working to thirteen. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than allowing four year olds to work in mills.
Her time in politics was illuminating, and frustrating. A part of her wanted to quit, but then the war ended, abrupt and beautiful, and it filled her with a newfound hope for positive change. When she was given the opportunity to teach at the new Utopia Academy, she leapt; the opportunity to help further peace in the known world was too great to turn down.
Likes ↡
Books, especially Adventure/Romance Novels and Poetry, but she'll read anything
History and Language
Learning and Teaching
Soup and finger sandwiches
Raspberry Tea and Sweets
Piano Music
Origami and Pressed Flowers
Fossils
Dislikes ↡
Animals larger than a medium dog on the smaller size
Willful Ignorance
Violence
Losing Pens
Tragedies
Sour Food
Dog-eared pages
Misc. Info ↡
Evelyn is a speed reader, capable of finishing a heavy tome within an hour, and retaining much of the information she breezed through. As she does not have perfect memory, however, she tends to recall only what she was most interested in at the time.
She prefers to wear gloves in public to hide the scars on her hands gained through her time at the brass mill, and also to prevent skin oils from touching books unnecessarily.
She physically folds paper into envelopes and stars when stressed.
Evelyn has only recently stopped wearing her wedding ring on a necklace; she keeps it safe in a box in a drawer, but will wear it on the anniversary of her husband’s death and when she feels she needs a bit of courage.
She can play the piano with some degree of talent, but hasn’t played nearly as often since her husband passed.
She’s fluent in a number of languages, including Shahitian, Lunan, Aloran, and a handful of Thah dialects.
Theme Songs ↠ I Know You're Out There, Feed the Machine, The Consequences of Imagination is Fear
Username ↠ Nebula Arisen
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:21 pm
Kingdom ↠ Funkazan
Position ↠ Art Instructor
Full Name ↠ Vincent Adel Kelsey
Nickname ↠ Kelse
Age ↠ 39
Birthday ↠ September 30th
Height ↠ 6'2"
Weight ↠ 195 lbs.
Powers ↡
Supernova In Blue - Just as the hottest stars burn blue, Vincent can generate blue flames from his body and, if given enough time to concentrate his power, send out an explosive blast of fiery azure from his form. If he were to go "supernova", however, it would take him a great deal of time to regain the ability to form even the smallest of embers. Years of overuse has negatively affected this timeframe, with Vincent now requiring up to a month to recover from unleashing his full power.
Dust To Stardust - Vincent is able to turn small areas of his form to stardust, allowing him to easily evade enemy attacks. His time as a soldier has allowed him to hone this ability rather well, making it difficult to land a proper hit on him.
Personality ↡
Vincent is quite light-hearted on the surface. Making people feel heard is important to him, so he often gives others the floor when in conversation. Still, he has his limits. While rather agreeable in most circumstances, there's little that he'll allow to get in the way of his personal freedom. And while he does not like to start conflicts, he will most certainly end them if need be.
Political Opinion ↠ Regarding his homeland, he has passion enough for its people but a disdain for its practices. While he's never traveled to Luna, he had heard stories from generations past and would be curious to know more about the moon kingdom. He doesn't think much of the other kingdoms, but hopes that all those forced into combat can now find peace.
Biography ↡
Vincent was born to a father whose family was originally from Luna and a mother from Funkazan, the family residing in the latter kingdom. His parents owned an inn that did moderately well, and Vincent was to inherit it. He was a rather aloof child, doing as he was told but rarely feeling here nor there about much of anything. As he grew up, there was a sense of aimlessness he felt as he meandered his way into adulthood. Many of the others his age spoke of dreams and goals and the like, while Vincent couldn't think of one that he clung to. Day in and day out, he simply went about his day doing whatever needed to be done. Perhaps that was a good thing, though, as it made what was to come less of a blow.
As the war raged on, the town he lived in began conscripting its able-bodied men to join the war effort. Vincent's father was spared from enlisting on account of back injuries sustained during the construction of the inn, but Vincent himself was forced into service. The life of a soldier wasn't something he wanted for himself, but Vincent offered little resistance and found himself performing quite well on the battlefield. He had a high tolerance for the horrors of war, and his abilities made him a rather difficult combatant to defeat. While he found no joy in violence, nor did any praise he got ease those feelings of aimlessness, his performance allotted him continued survival at the very least. And if he was able to end enough battles, then perhaps he would one day be free of this burden to once again seek a sense of fulfillment.
Eventually, he was scouted to join a distinguished strike force. Not feeling as though he had much choice in the matter or in anything at this point, Vincent continued to allow himself to be a cog in the war machine. But even though he was rather detached from the world at this point, he was able to find a sense of comradery with his fellow strike force agents. Of note was one gentleman Vincent became closest with who wished to become a painter once the war ended. He would not get the chance to see his dream through, however, as he died in one of their first missions. In his final moments, he entrusted his dream to Vincent. And for the first time, he had a goal that he desperately wanted to achieve.
Fighting harder than ever to ensure he lived to see another day, Vincent and his squad spent a few years performing attacks for the Funkazan Army before their unit was shelved in favor of a smaller contingent. Vincent never looked into the details of the squad that would supersede his, but he didn't care. Being paid well enough for his services, Vincent was released from active duty and informed his family that he would have to abstain from inheriting the inn. Seeing that quiet determination burn brightly within him, they complied and set a cousin of his up to inherit the inn in Vincent's stead. With that, Vincent went off to study art.
In time, Vincent would move to a cot in a secluded area just north of the town. There he put his everything into honing his craft, only going into town for lessons or to get food and supplies. While he studied all forms of art, he found himself particularly interested in the use of charcoal to create art. He had been so used to reducing things to ashes that he never got a chance to think of what could be born from those remains, so that style of art was of particular meaning to him. Eventually, he'd start offering painting services to the people of the town as he slowly reintegrated himself properly.
With that, he became rather well-known in his area. So much so, in fact, that he was once again scouted. But it was not by any Funkazan official this time, but rather a woman from Alore who offered him a job. Drawn in by her ideas for a peaceful world and to guide tomorrow's rulers away from the horrors that befell him and so many others, Vincent accepted her offer wholeheartedly and began working at Utopia.
Likes ↡
Hot soup
Pomegranate
Oil paints
Dislikes ↡
Stale bread
Horseradish
Birds
Misc. Info ↡
#a26240 for speech and thoughts
Vincent wears clothing made to withstand his flames.
Theme Songs ↠
The Cruel Wars
Akatsuki No Kuruma
Blow Up The Outside World
Street Spirit (Fade Out)
Merry-Go-Round Of Life
Username ↠ Beyond The Time
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:21 pm
Kingdom ↠ Shahiti
Position ↠ Etiquette Instructor
Full Name ↠ Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way
Nickname ↠ Enoby, Egogy, Enopby, Evony, Ibony, Eboby Enony
Age ↠ 37
Birthday ↠ October 24th
Height ↠ 5'8"
Weight ↠ 141 lb
Powers ↡
Dark Thorns - Able to manipulate the darkness / shadows into needle-like weapons of any size. She is also able to shoot them out of the darkness as a projectile.
Inky Armor - To fortify her body, Ebony can wrap herself in armor to either protect herself or make herself harder to hit someone or something.
Personality ↡
Despite her dour appearance, Ebony has a big heart with a lot of love in it. However, that love is reserved only for the people who deserve it most. She excels at compartmentalizing and rationalizing her actions, something that was essential during the war. This means that she does not have a tendency to dwell on the past. What's done is done and fixating on it does nothing. With no need to hold herself back, she is strict and honest with her students.
Political Opinion ↠ To someone like Ebony, an opinion on each country is useless. They all have their fair share of good and bad. She just needed to keep her mind on her missions and do as she was told. Which was exactly what she has done. There is no special place in her heart one way or the other for any kingdom. That being said, she would like the head of her own king on a platter given the chance.
Biography ↡
Born the second daughter of Earl Gerard Way, Ebony was given the childhood of a lesser noble. She had an older brother, an older sister, and a younger brother. They spent countless hours studying, going to social gatherings, meeting anyone who could possibly elevate their station. On occasion they would even get to meet the king. Those were the times when she and her siblings would be dressed to the nines, forced to act as elegantly as possible. Etiquette was extremely important. Her mother, Lindsey, was an avid proponent of keeping up appearances with the other members of court. It was rare that Ebony or her siblings would be allowed out of the house with even a hair out of place. While they weren't so important that they were related to the king, they were still nobility and needed to act like it.
It wasn't until she was a little older that Ebony would realize that it was to keep anyone from looking too hard at the family. It was normal for the children of the Way household to learn self defense. It was taught alongside of maths, etiquette, reading, and writing. What was less known was that those lessons extended far beyond what would be considered typical. Beyond learning to defend herself, everyone in the family was taught from a young age how to kill. Earl Way and his family were an extension of the arm of the king. A clan of assassins, quietly taking out anyone who was in the way of their leader's plans.
Ebony would be no different.
When she came of age she was married to another man of nobility, Viscount Robert Cavallo. His lesser status gave him no room to question her missions for the king. They were always under the guise of being a cherished peace negotiator with other kingdoms. However, there was deeper meaning to the orders that came from the king. Orders that she absolutely could not refuse. Upon boarding her carriage to whatever kingdom her king fancied, a note would be left to her with her true mission, outlining how many targets she was to eliminate. A note that always found itself in the first fire that she encountered on her trip.
It was on one of these "peace" missions when she lost her leg. The target had managed to find out the plot against him and fought back in a way that Ebony was not prepared for. Once he'd been properly dealt with she had managed to staunch the bleeding and drag herself back to her carriage to return home. The further they got, the clearer it became that she needed immediate medical attention. Which is how she found herself on a several month trip in Uilum receiving care and an automail leg from a mysterious benefactor. The leg was high quality, needing little charging and the charging it did need was able to be done with small pearls of energy.
When she had finally recovered, learned to walk again, and was able to return home, all she found was an empty house. Apparently her husband had taken the extended trip as an opportunity to run off with a younger woman he claimed to love. Everything was ripped away from her. Her husband, her leg, her job for the king, and her ability to engage in social circles without having the affair brought up. Ebony retreated, quietly divorcing Robert from the shadows.
Once it was done and she had been restored to her maiden name of Countess Ebony Way, she buried herself in work. The king was no longer her benefactor, the loss of her leg had shattered any trust he had in her ability to complete the job. But normalcy wasn't hard to find. Despite her disability she was still a talented murderess. And people still wanted to pay to have their enemies dead. Going back to the benefactor who had provided her leg, she started taking on as many jobs as she could to fill her days. This was how she spent her time until the war came to an end.
The armistice had lowered the amount of odd jobs coming in, and as such Ebony was once again wasting away in the shadows of her manner avoiding social gatherings. That was when she was invited to come teach etiquette to the heirs of all the nations at Utopia. Not wanting to spend another minute home, she accepted.
Likes ↡
❖ Dancing, specifically ballet
❖ Elegance
❖ Tea
❖ Nighttime
Dislikes ↡
❖ Crass or crude people
❖ High noon
❖ Coffee
❖ Loud Sounds
Misc. Info ↡
Ebony started dancing ballet as a child, encouraged by her mother for the grace it would bring her movements. It is a hobby she has continued at to this day and her leg was specially made to allow her to dance like normal.
While it is not noticeable, Ebony walks with the slightest limp. The more tired she is, the more noticable it is.
Allergic to bees.
Theme Songs ↠
Username ↠ Kumako Shock
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:21 pm
Kingdom ↠ Winduria
Position ↠ Music Intructor
Full Name ↠ Varsha Kaur Singh
Nickname ↠
Age ↠ 28
Birthday ↠ March 16th
Height ↠ 5'10"
Weight ↠ 274 lb
Powers ↡
Notes On The Wind - Sucking in a large breath and visualizing the intent, she is able to expel it over an area to affect all those within it. Those within the area will begin to feel a song in their heart. How that song manifests is dependent upon the person. Some will start to sing. Some will start to dance. A handful will do both. Once she has blown out a magical breath, it remains in effect until she sucks it back in with intent.
Personality ↡
Soft, warm, and inviting are all words that would describe her. She is quick to laugh and attempt to find the silver lining in a situation, but she is not unaware of the hardships of life. Being a part of a troupe of traveling performers means that she is also extremely aware of the dangers of the road and battle. She is rash, stubborn, and often cannot accept no for an answer, finding herself more often than not charging head first into a reckless situation without much thought or preparation.
Political Opinion ↠ Despite having a Windurian father and being born in Winduria, she has no loyalty to the kingdom. Nor does she have any loyalty to Musique. No kingdoms hold her loyalty as none of them have ever quite felt like home. She is not without opinions, but she has a tendency to keep them to herself in favor of making more coin.
Biography ↡
It was not a special day.
There was no fanfare or celebration.
It was just an unseasonably warm afternoon when Varsha was born to her commoner parents. They were part of a troupe of actors and dancers that had formed out of refugees from every nation, trying to find their way in the world. They were a found family of their own. One that she would later come to say was the greatest gift she could have been given as a child. They would spend their days traveling from town to town, peddling their talents for whatever coin they needed to live and donating the rest when it was time to leave. She was offered the chance to experience all of the kingdoms. All walks of life. It was grounding and rewarding in the same way that it helped her to learn that everyone was not nearly as different as they would have you believe. Something that few seemed to have the ability to see.
When she was as young as three she started having small roles in the ballads and performances they would put on. Some shows were for crowds of commoners, some for soldiers. Rarely they were able to perform for nobility. The roles were little more than set dressing at first. Being held by an auntie or uncle as she pretended to be their child. Skipping across their makeshift stage as the younger version of on of her auntie's characters. Only as she grew older did she start getting lines in the productions. Then those lines turned into songs.
Performing a song when she was eleven was how she discovered her powers. All it took was one particularly big breath. It wasn't even on purpose as the crowd around them started to join in the dancing in singing. Her family around her watched in stunned silence as their show dissolved into chaos, only to then grow even larger with the audience participation. After that day it was something they would factor into future shows. It wasn't always some perfect, shining success. Some towns loved it and they ended up with better accommodations and more coin to spend on better food. Some towns shooed them away vehemently once the magic was dissipated. But the risk was worth it when there was always the next town down the road.
There were other risks as well. The war was never far, always an insidious, lurking truth that hung over the world they traveled. It wasn't possible to always avoid skirmishes or town raids. Having all of their earthly belongings in a handful of carts and being able to pack up and flee in a moment's notice was helpful. They rarely lost anyone in those times when they found themselves in the middle of a clash of blades, and when they did the loss was always heavily mourned.
It was during one of those clashes she met Marie Ann Gunter. It was toward the end of the war and the Aloran had managed to help save her troupe from a particularly bloody battle. They had barely been able to speak more than a handful of words to each other, but Varsha knew that should they ever meet again she owed Marie her lifedebt. Imagine her surprise when just two years later she heard the woman's name again. This time is was not on a rainy battlefield outside of Phronese, but in the Chronesian slums in the hushed whispers of the peacebringer's name. Even more surprising was how just a month after that they were face to face again in a Windurian bath house. In catching up, Marie explained her plans for a school of peace.
One that needed a music instructor.
Varsha couldn't say no.
Likes ↡
༄ Singing
༄ Dancing
༄ Campfires
༄ Children
༄ Traveling
༄ Bringing joy to the people around her
Dislikes ↡
༄ Arguments
༄ Fighting
༄ Blood
༄ Orange juice
Misc. Info ↡
She is named after her paternal grandmother.
Big, showy choreographed numbers with singing are her specialty.
Theme Songs ↠ Link a motivation song here (Optional)
Username ↠ Kumako Shock
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:21 pm
Kingdom ↠ Luna
Position ↠ Teacher - Astronomy
Full Name ↠ Thiago Lunatici
Nickname ↠ 'Ago
Age ↠ 39
Birthday ↠ 30 December
Height ↠ 6'5" | 196cm
Weight ↠ 235 | 107kg
Powers ↡
Gravity Manipulation - Thiago can manipulate the gravitational field around him in a number of ways but he usually uses it to help him with moving. He loves being able to jump high, soar/fly, or dance midair. He also uses his ability to alleviate some of the pain when his lower back flares up.
Night Vision - He can see in any night time conditions or complete darkness. To him, it appears to him like night vision goggles with a blue tint, but with full range and as clear as his vision in daylight.
Personality ↡
Thiago is sociable and cordial with most people. For others, he does his best to maintain professionalism. Ignore the eye-twitch, it's nothing. He has a passion for Astronomy and he's happy to dabble in it for work. He is patient and disciplined in most things. When he's out in the streets his vindictiveness and moral ambiguity shines brightest. He can become jealous and over the years has worked on controlling that. Insecurities weren't ever a thing for him until his accident; having a foot wide burn mark and back problems doesn't exactly scream attractive.
Political Opinion ↠ The world is a mess. Thiago really hopes this Utopia Academy works because if it doesn't, everyone is going to have a real bad time. So far, he's not impressed. These future leaders are going to need all of the luck and prayers they can get. As far as politics go, he stays out of it. It's not his job. Stars are far less complicated. The worst they can do is go supernova become a black hole but they do that far, far away.
Biography ↡
It is Thiago’s understanding that he was the product of star crossed lovers, likely low nobles, and neither one of them were allowed to keep him. So his mother, under the guise of retreating to the countryside to recover for her ailment, gave birth in secrecy. He was raised by an elderly piano teacher who happened to live within the same dutchy as her war-orphaned great-nephew. This revelation is one he learned years later and views it not with sadness or contempt but instead with warmth and appreciation. Had the stars aligned differently, Thiago believed he would have been raised in a home full of love. His parental figure whom he called “Nonna,” described his biological mother as a young, compassionate teenager with “her head in the clouds” and that she spoke highly of his father and his character. She taught him how to play piano because he could speak full sentences and credited the skill for teaching him discipline and keeping him out of bigger bouts of trouble. Growing up he got into plenty of scrapes with his cousins and the other neighborhood kids and after a stern meeting with Nonna’s yardstick, he would be forced to practice until bedtime. She revealed the truth of his origins in his teens but it did not change his love for her.
Not long after, Nonna passed away from natural causes and Thiago did not take it well. When it couldn’t get any worse, Nonna’s daughter gave him some money and told him to leave. Having no one or nowhere to turn to, Thiago hitched a ride to the capital in hopes of finding work. Even if he was free to do as he pleased, it wasn’t a glamorous lifestyle by any stretch of the imagination and he sometimes had to beg, barter and steal in moments of need. He managed to always have luck on his side. It was during this time his powers revealed themselves. Being able to see at night saved him from a few scuffles with thieves that would have had him clocking out of life early. His abilities with gravity came shortly after when he was forced from a building only to stop an inch from the ground.
Thiago soon fell into a routine where he would work during the day, then practice honing his skills at night. One night he came across an jaded older vigilante whom he nicknamed “Moon Man” because he refused to give his name, or any name, when asked. He spoke with grit about the world being cold and unfair, and on multiple occasions he watched Moon Man take justice into his own hands against people that were deemed forces of evil. Thiago for a while became his unofficial nameless sidekick in times of greater need despite the old man’s protests. In return, he would teach the younger man street skills and help him become more precise with his gravity abilities. He even got his first taste of astronomy from Moon Man, and those nights of gazing at the stars became less of a mystery to him. When recruiters came around, Thiago signed up since it promised more stable living arrangements and steady compensation. Moon Man protested and bitched about the evils of the military and the war, but wished Thiago the best of luck with the promise of keeping things in line in the capital.
Because of his powers, Thiago was plucked right out of training and assigned to a more elite, off the book unit. The missions and orders came from higher ranked personnel or even the Lunar Palace, and rarely did he get additional details about the how and whys of each one. They were simple enough; a unit would travel back and forth through wormholes while completing day or month missions in between. Thiago rose through leadership over the years but was taken out at just shy of thirty by a burning beam to his lower back. He was able to use gravity to force the beam off but the damage was already done.
Nights of staring at the sky and self-education fueled his desire to reach for the stars in a different way. For the next few years before joining the faculty at Utopia Academy, he interned and worked under a Court Astronomer for Luna. He wasn’t exactly excited to have to teach and babysit a bunch of young royals and nobles, but it came with slightly better wages and the opportunity to do something for the greater good. He hoped that at least he could make them understand the importance of an Astronomer outside of astrology. His faith in humanity fluctuates on a daily basis with these kids.
He has a ten-year-old daughter named Virgo whom he exchanges letters with frequently and visits on most weekends and holidays.
The other thing he found appealing about the job was that it allowed him to continue his hobbies: piano, rowing and his secret part-time vigilante justice gig in the town. He even has a mask and everything.
Likes ↡
The night time
spicy foods
floral scents
honey crisp apples
friendly spars
Dislikes ↡
sugary foods
cigarette smells
"I didn't know we had a test today!" and similar statements
grainy-a** apples, specifically red delicious apples
faculty meetings that could have been a memo
Misc. Info ↡
Hobbies:
Astronomy, Stargazing, Dancing, Vigilantism, rock climbing
Weapons:
whip, throwing stars
Distinguishing features:
lower back - burn scar, diagonal, 1 foot wide, side to side
r-shoulder, chest, and back - geometrical tattoo
Theme Songs ↠
die with a smile
this dork right here
circles
blinding lights
toki ni ai wa
Username ↠ chinisu
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:22 pm
Kingdom ↠ Winduria
Position ↠ Meteorology Professor
Full Name ↠ Aldo Tevarrent
Nickname ↠ Professor Tevarrent
Age ↠ 35
Birthday ↠ April 12th
Height ↠ 6'0
Weight ↠ 215 lbs
Powers ↡
Aero-Telekinesis - Aldo has the power to manipulate and interact with matter or energy using the air around him. It is with this power that he can grasp and fling objects, create gusts of air, and even use the air around him to shield himself or move himself through the air.
Aerokinetic Senses - Highly attuned to air currents and pressure, Aldo can sense using the air like a sixth sense to enhance his other senses. It allows him to hear, smell, and even feel air currents, frequencies, and vibrations with the utmost clarity without dulling his other senses.
Personality ↡ Aldo places intellect and creativity as the heights of human achievement. Incredibly patient and understanding, he is known for his open ear and kind words when others are suffering personal grief. He thinks little of himself except in his ability to help others. He is respectful of authority, although his ideas of freedom can cause clashes, he will always differ to a higher authority on matters. He has a utter disgust towards violence, the atrocities that he witnessed in the war left him with no regard for it as a means of decision, and attempts to rally those who seek it to use their mind first, words second, and fists last if necessary, but only for self preservation.
Political Opinion ↠ It is in Aldo's opinion that the current governance of nations is inferior. Such wasted life and potential as was caused by war is seen as nothing less than an atrocity. In a growing time of intellectual expansion, it was the current governments that turned to violence as a means to an end. He seeks to banish this mindset from the next generation in hopes that perhaps when it stirs again, peace will remain, and words will be used to overcome opposition instead of a repeat of the horrors unfolded.
Biography ↡
Aldo is one of three brothers born to Hershel and Amara Tevarrent. His father was a philosopher, a great thinker whose mind and words were used to propel enlightenment not only through out Winduria, but across the land Lomacht. But when war erupted, his voice was quashed in favor of those that sought power and dominance. At a young age, he and his brothers saw the despair in their father who sought to rally those of like mind in an effort to stop the madness that spread through the land. In the end, their father took to writing great manuscripts in argument of peace, and it was this that he ingrained in his children. However, such philosophy does little to combat the drafting of the three brothers into the army upon turning of age. His oldest brother Elymer was drafted as an officer thanks to the influence of their father, but as the war pushed on, when Aldo, and then his younger brother Daniel were drawn in and thrown into the great cogs of the militaries grinder. For Daniel, he was drafted directly into the specialized group of fliers, where is command of flight and speed gave a boon to their ability to strike the enemy from the air.
As for Aldo, he was recruited into reconnaissance, his growing ability to "feel" enemy units and to hear them at a great distance left him on the front lines. His strength for his aero-telekinetic abilities left him striking enemy positions in efforts to support the front line units that his information from his reconnoiters. It was upon using his powers with frequency and accuracy that he began to become more attuned with the air currents of the land, which led to moments of private study. In this period he found the greatest delight as he soon began to more able to predict the weather as he could feel the air currents and the vibrations as charges drew in the air around him.
When this information became available to his unit commander, it was send up along the lines, until he found himself being trained in meteorology. It was here he found a passion where his natural abilities thrived in a way that he thought could save lives. In the end, he became an advisor for military affairs in regards to upcoming weather formations, allowing the men at the top choose when it was best to send men out and when it was best to hold them in place.
At the end of the war, he continued working for the government in the academy of sciences in Winduria until the offer came to him to teach others an hope of keeping the future peace between kingdoms.
Likes ↡
Stormy Days
Gentle Breezes
Quiet Days Sat in Study
The Color Red
Intellectual Conversation
The Outdoors
Dogs
Dislikes ↡
Physical Violence
High Pitch Noises
Strong Smells
Bullying
Misc. Info ↡
"Speech - ED2939 Imperial Red
"Thoughts - 7BD9F6 Medium Sky Blue
Theme Songs ↠ Sympathique - Pink Martini
Username ↠ Emryck
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:22 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:22 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:22 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2025 5:22 pm
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