The black knight took hold of the branch. Nothing special about it stood out to him, it was but a branch from a tree that they had deemed 'special'. He should be skeptical but he knew magic was real; he wore a cloak made of feathers that let him soar and move faster than before. So perhaps this tree was made of magic properties that he was simply not aware of. Yet. Uru looked up to see he was at the waterfront, unsure when he had moved from the top of the hill to this location. The next thing he felt was falling into something, his cloak above his head, bubbles everywhere. Bubbles that become light. Warmth. Overwhelming warmth. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus as thoughts seemed into his mind.
------
"Dad! I finished it! I finished my first leather leggings!" The boy came to the elder with absolute pride, a wide smile on his face that went from ear to ear as he held up a large pair of leather leggings. The father took the gear, turning it over a few times, running his hand along the seems with calculated eyes. "I spent over a month on it! I used the leather I made myself, skinned myself, cured myself, and I did it all on my own from watching you!"
His father smiled. "Well, do you want me to be honest?" The boy nodded enthusiastically. It was perfect! The best pair of pants ever! They could sell it for a horse! Or a cow! A whole flock of chickens! The elder man went away briefly and returned wearing the pair. It was then that his face grew beat red now that he saw the man wear them.
"The hips are really tight. You should have given it a bit more room." He groaned, looking at how the hips were rather low compared to the breeches that they covered. "The seems are okay, but spaced far, it won't last long like that... aand then there's the major issue: You forgot to cover the important areas." He looked down at the breeches beneath his leggings.
-----
Uru, eyes still closed, smiled at the thought. He smiled at the scene. He chuckled at the laughter the pair shared in his mind. He could feel the cheeks and ears light warm and red. Why was he embarrassed, and yet, he was happy about it.
OOC
My character's name: Uru'baen Character's journal link:Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Twenty-five years old, long dark hair tied up. Commoner's clothing with leather fitting. Blue eyes. Wields a basket-hilt sword. Rank of character knight.
In truth, Maple was scared to follow. It probably wouldn't have been a surprise for anyone who had gotten to know the black knight, but not one really had. Closed off, alone in her endevours, she had only gotten to know a few names alone her journey so she had no one to lean on in this moment. Or to turn to, to see what they expected as they all followed one another to the lake.
She held the tree branch maybe a little too tightly, hoping for a sense of security with it as she walked along the lighted path to a new pool of water. Soon enough, she was knee deep and staring down. Her reflection fading, shifting and soon it was that woman she had seen with Sir Lancelot. And she was pulling her down. Maple thrashed and struggled, even with the realization that she as able to breathe. But the sensation, suddenly grabbed into the water. The floating orbs didn't make her feel any easier.
"Are you not tired? Do you not reserve to finally rest? Perhaps when all this is over you can finally join all those you have lost."
Tired, Maple agreed, tears welling up in her eyes but never falling. She wasn't right for this sort of thing. Too much panic, too much doubt. The black knight reached out to one of the orbs, wondering what it would do.
One day it just boiled over and Maple slammed one of the mixing bowls against the counter top. It finally got a rise from her father, her mother finally looked cross and her sister sat their and smirked. "This is st-stupid!" Maple stammered, her fingers balling into fists so tight her knuckles turned white, "N-none of this even w-works!"
Jealously and anger had finally tipped over the edge and before anyone would say anything to the usually somber girl, she pushed past her family and out the door. She wouldn't let them see her frustrated tears. At least them, it was hard to get away that easily without someone seeing.
"Maple, what happened?" One of her cousins asked, running over. He had to almost trot to keep up with her aimless angry walking.
"Nothing!" She snapped. "L-leave me alone!" Apparently, he wouldn't. She felt her shoulder grabbed, her body pulled and turned around and her misty brown eyes met determined blue.
"Usually the same thing with you. Come on, I have a good way of letting off your troubles."
It was the first time she held a weapon, an old pick axe that had usually seen chopped wood. Now it was used on unmoving wooden dummies by unskilled hands. But it felt good, it felt relieving. Maple imagined the dummy having her sister's face with each strike.
The orb slipped through her fingers, as did traces of the memory leaving nothing but a confused girl. She didn't know what she felt so tense. And then she remembered she was still underwater...
Milo followed without question, but he felt his mood sobered in light of Sir Lancelot's decision. It felt like a slight knock to his pride, a missed opportunity in proving his worth to Camelot. But it would be a feeling he would have to overcome, selfish thoughts he would have to push through. The decision had most likely not been an easy one - not when lives were on the line - so he would respect the decision. And respect his orders.
The branch he had plucked off the tree was carried with great care. Its purpose uncertain aside from illuminating a path to the tranquility of the lake. How different a branch could add to it grew him curious, but it wasn't just that that pulled him towards it. He moved without much control of his own, and was eventually submerged into the peaceful waters. Pulled in from perhaps magics unknown and then from the woman in white, who's reflection replaced that of his own.
There was a struggle from Milo, only natural of course from the turn of events but he calmed easily enough when he realized he was still able to breathe. Odd that. And the orbs.
"Are you not tired?" A voice asked him. Some part of him was, there had been so much that had happened. "Do you not reserve to finally rest? Perhaps when all this is over you can finally join all those you have lost." The voice went on. Milo wondered if he did. But there still seemed to be a battle that needed to be won. But... maybe after that. Maybe he and Noemi could gain some peace and find the lives they had lost and build something anew.
Or maybe something could be found here, he realized as a few wisps drew close enough. He could feel something from each one of them. Familiar. Memories perhaps. He grabbed hold of one.
It was difficult not to mirror the look on her face as she unwrapped the cloth to uncover her the necklace. Those amber eyes shifting from disbelief, to confusion and then to wonderment. Milo's smile couldn't have been bigger to see how happy she looked, those were joyful tears at the corners of her eyes.
"You like it?" He asked, just wanting to make sure even though it was clear that she did.
There had been several suggestions prior (mostly from his mother and Shu) along with a fair amount of questioning (mostly from Evan and a few of his other sparring partners). It had been long since settled, even before he had been aware of such an arrangement had been made and the dowry had been placed. Milo still felt the need to bestow Noemi a gift for their engagement. Something more personal.
Which really did entail getting to know the girl he was betrothed to. And it had been difficult without being too suspicious; inquiries on personal likes and the odd few jobs he had picked up in order to afford it on his own accord. His mother had been insistent to give the girl something that her own mother had owned, but Milo had already spoken to some of the local smiths about a few ideas.
It had been completed some weeks later after the proper coinage had been produced. And Milo couldn't have been more pleased with the result. It was a simple silver pendant on a chain, provided by the silver smith with an inlay of a blue glass pebble provided by the blower for his troubles that afternoon Milo swept the floors. It was as if a droplet had been plucked from the rain to be forever frozen for Noemi to wear forever.
"You do, yes?" Milo asked again, tilting his head to catch any of her mumblings. Of course was the answer and she insisted on putting it on right away. "I'm glad," he told her, locking the clasp around her neck. She turned around, her hand still on the pendant as she looked up at him. She was happy, he smiled, then he was.
It must have been something nice, he gathered when the memory faded away from him. It had to be with the feeling that he could still feel in his chest and the way his lips curled upward. If only he could have held onto it.
She was alone this time. But it wasn't...a odd feeling of lonesome. It was a needed one. She needed the time to think still, time to remember and go. her path was quiet, it was what she needed.
Her path was true, it was what she needed.
She stopped as she finally came to the lake, different from the one at Lancelot's, but no different in the aura of mystical. The power of something there...
She didn't even think, her foot padded into the water. Then another. She walked until she was submerged, holding her breath.
The memory slowly came to her, like a puzzle piece that finally fit into place.
If she was to describe how it came, it was warm, bright and sunny.
She was no younger than herself now, her arms filled with baskets of eggs. Her coop, large as it was, thankfully producing enough eggs to feed herself and allow her to trade with other villagers for their gardens. She could perhaps even make the soft cakes that the Hale family would bring over sometimes. They had gifted her with a thick jar of honey, and she had leftover flour from her last visit to the vendors that came through their villiage.
She wasn't rich, but the home she had built after her parents death brought her happiness. It was a home, she hoped to expand and build upon. To bring life into more then just herself.
Her hand went to the pendant that Milo had given her. Though they were bound together by words, and family promises, he had given her the pendant to show that they were bound by more then that. Her intended, who had love for her, and she had love for as well.
But the gifts didn't end there. There was books littered on the shelves, rare in the village but gifts from her parents, who had when she was younger, taught her to read. They were harder, but still, she persisted in learning them. There was the bow and arrows, made from Evan as a gift for her hunting, should she ever. And the pretty rocks that Shu would find, she would pick them up and think of her friend, curious and dirty but with a bright cheery smile.
It was a simple joy, because she led a fairly simple life. She was happiest thinking of the small things, the memory of objects that had no more meaning besides to remind her that she was loved and cared for by her friends and family.
She left the pool, the memory faded. But joy did not, and the tingle of warmth lingered with her.
And she would go back to the family she created here.
Syusaki rolled 1 20-sided dice:
6Total: 6 (1-20)
Posted: Tue May 19, 2015 12:52 am
TK reached for the tree branch and it snapped beneath his spindly fingers. He paused, golden eyes staring confusedly at the broken twig now in his hand. His wrist twisted to let the branch fall to the ground before he continued forward. Amongst the fallen leaves he watched a path light itself section by section. The lights pulsed with a comforting glow, urging the gangly knight to the lake. For some reason, he took a step into its opaque waters. Ripples glide across the surface, distorting the image of a woman swimming beneath the waters. She stopped suddenly, a smirk noticeable amongst the ripples before she grabbed his ankles and dragged him deeper into the lake’s depths.
Some might have struggled, but instead he looked up with tight lips, holding his breath as long as possible as he tried to calculate a plan, but the water was warm. It almost made him think of a dark cocoon. Finally the burning in his lungs forced him to breathe out, and TK realized he could survive under the lake.
He wondered if the lights that lit his path were the same ones that floated toward him. “Tired?” he repeated in a quiet voice. Everything was quiet and peaceful underwater, and he gladly reached out toward a light.
The rubble scratched his back, but it wasn’t as if he could feel it. He was too occupied with feeling the burning pain running up and down his body as he tried to climb out of the debris. He could not recall Mother possessing enough strength to throw him into a wall. Teeth grit together, TK squeezed one eye shut as a trembling hand tried to grab something for leverage. “M-Mo…?”
A shadowed figure hovered over him. He tried to reach toward it, but stopped when they smiled to reveal pearly white teeth filed to sharp ends. They grabbed his tunic collar, lifted him into the air, and then tossed him across the street into the wall. He bit down on his bottom lip as he chose to let the building collapse around him. It was better to fake death than to face the Rider.
Sunlight peaked through one of the cracks and he tried to look out it. “Mothe…Wh…?”
He could still feel the lingering pain in his back.
OOC
My character's name: TK Character's journal link:link BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Tall and incredibly skinny; seems like the wind could blow him down. Incredibly-pale skin with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. Golden eyes. Rank of character 1d10
There was no need for magic, Wilson would always head toward the lake. No matter how many times he strayed from it, the white knight would always seek it. Its presence calmed him. The lake did not need to light a pathway for him, but he followed it anyways, taking it as a positive sign to continue walking forward.
His boots treaded quietly into the water, and further prodding was not needed for Wilson to continue stepping deeper. The water rose to his knees, hips, shoulders, and then he was completely underwater. The woman in the water swam around him, her hair flowing as she smiled pleasantly at him and then pushed him even deeper into the lake. He closed his eyes, let himself be pulled into the warm darkness until he felt his feet touch the bottom.
Lights floated around him and he confusedly watched them dance. Rest? It was a tempting proposition, just as tempting as the warm memories that swirled around Wilson before he reached out to one.
The world is screaming as it crumbles to pieces. The moans of the dying and the crackle of fire and the stampeding of horses refuse to cease as Wilson runs around the village. His throat burns from the smoke and his voice runs hoarse as he continues to shout, but still he runs deeper into the burning town. Everywhere he steps is death, screaming, fire, destruction, deathdeathDEATHDEATHDEATH—
“Bradley? Ell--? Emma--?” Tears stream down his face as he calls out for family and friends. He runs toward home as if it will provide safety, but it has already been torn to fallen wood and flames. His cries and screams peak as he tries to pull away the debris, but he is too small, too weak, too afraid to see the bodies buried beneath.
He wails.
“Wilson?”
The crying ceases, and he frantically looks for the voice. “Bradley?” He trudges through the broken pieces to reach for his cousin’s wavering hand. There are no words, just silent tears as he pulls the smaller boy into his grasp and squeezes him tight. He thinks of letting him go, but when a Rider looms in front of Wilson (behind Bradley), he only holds him tighter. He mutters Wilson’s name in a confused murmur, but Wilson just hugs Bradley as he falls to his knees to hide behind a broken beam.
He places a hand on Bradley’s head and whispers, “Shhhh.”
There was a hollow pang in his chest as the light popped, letting the memory flow out of him. Wilson sadly looked where the light had once been.
OOC
My character's name: Wilson Hopkins Character's journal link:link BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERlink; somewhat tall and a bit on the scrawny side, but has muscle where it counts. Black hair that tapers, the ends cling to his neck and barely brush his shoulders. Red-brown eyes and a pleasant smile. Rank of character 1d10
Hitsuzen rolled 1 20-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-20)
Posted: Tue May 19, 2015 3:04 am
[ Yuki - Fear ]
Taking the branch in hand, Yuki gazed toward the path illuminated for him. He had no reason to have second thoughts of following it. The lake had comforted and healed him already. It was strange to him, though intriguing, when his own reflection faded and the view of another beneath the surface came into view.
There was no struggle against the Lady in the Lake as she pulled him deeper, as if in his subconsciousness he knew that he was not in danger. He still held his breath for as long as he could, only to gasp at the thousands of points of light beneath him. It was then that he realized he could breathe, and he hadn't pulled water into his lungs.
The voice speaking to him caressed his subconscious, and he realized that he was tired. Yuki did hope that they could all rest soon. The voice seemed to suggest eternal rest not so subtly. He wasn't certain on that one, but as long as his friends were there with him... Well, then he would be fine with that as well.
Surrounded by the orbs of comforting light - his memories lost - Yuki slowly reached out among them out of simple curiosity. One gently brushed his fingertips.
-------
A shock of pain ripped across his shoulder blades just before his body hit the ground, his own cry drowned out by the deafening screech of the beast above him.
Yuki could hear the shouts of men and the clash of metal and wood against inky black claws. He rolled over and immediately regretted it, as dirt ground against the long lacerations in his back. He hissed though clenched teeth, biting back anything louder.
He did, though, get to glimpse the shadow creature flapping away from them. Thankfully, it didn't have anyone in its talons as it flew off. It hadn't killed anyone.
It had almost snatched him up. He'd barely thrown himself to the ground in time.
A friend extended a hand and Yuki was hauled up to his feet, grimacing all the while at the pull of his shoulder. He could stand, and tilted his head to try and look over his shoulder at the wounds he could feel but not see.
"You're a lucky b*****d. Didn't go deep. Just need to clean it up, so infection doesn't kill you instead."
Then the man slapped him on the back and made Yuki's breath hitch. He groaned loudly in disapproval, and cuffed his friend in the side of the head.
OOC
My character's name: Yuki Character's journal link:Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Reference here; without pointed ears. Rank of character Knight Sacred Points obtained: 37/100
When her name had not been called, Pokerus felt a little guilty for being so relieved. Though she meant every word she had said, the fact she would have had to die would have been a heavy burden to bear. At least now she had half a chance to live, but at the cost of someone else's life. Seven to be exact. The idea made her feel ill.
With the arrival of the woman in white, Pokerus stood back with surprise as the sapling that was planted had grown to a tree within seconds. With Sir Lancelot's instructions, she nodded and stepped forward to take a branch from the tree. As soon as she had picked it, a path of light appeared before her eyes. Unable to look away, she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking towards the lake edge.
The crystal clear water had now become dark, and she stared at it curiously until she saw the woman swimming underneath. Suddenly she grasped her ankles, and with a shout she was pulled under.
She could feel herself being tugged deeper into the lake, and she struggled to get away from the woman. Was she trying to drown her?! Unable to hold her breath any longer she gasped, then paused. It didn't hurt, did that mean she could still breathe?
Poke allowed herself to relax then, letting the water soothe and caress her skin. It was then she saw the many orbs of light floating all around her, and she stared in awe at their beauty. Reaching outwards, she grasped one with both hands.
Everything was burning, the smoke choking her lungs and clogging her eyes, making it difficult to see. She could still hear the screams of everyone as the shadows and horsemen engulfed everything, leaving nothing but death and misery in their wake.
She coughed, holding her brother close as she dragged him away from the fury of the flames, hoping against hope they would not be found. She had to get him away from here before the rider came back to finish him off.
With a curse she hoisted the unconscious man on her back and ran for what she was worth, the claw marks on her throat burning with every breath she took.
She wouldn't let them have him. No one was going to take her brother away.
Gritting her teeth, she ran as fast as she could, ran until her legs were about to give out and her lungs burned. Running away from the carnage and the total obliteration of their home.
As soon as she had the memory, it was gone, and Poke was left to wonder why her heart hurt so much...
OOC
My character's name: Pokerus Character's journal link: Here! BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A girl with with shirt under a brown vest, brown gloves, dark leggings and a pair of boots. Has long brown hair and brown eyes Rank of character knight.
Everything about the branch in his hand and the path that illuminated had Damien wary. Grassy eyes followed the path, careful step by step and peered in curiosity at the lake and its guest that greeted him. He walked in deeper, where he once waded in ankle deep came up to his waist and afterwards he submerged and was with the marine life. The lady beckoned him deeper, into the warm waters that didn't have his lungs burning for air, so the young knight ventured deeper till his feet found purchase at the bottom, where light began to scatter around his feet, little orb of dull light began to ebb with its luminosity. Its movement was delicate like a web of starlights.
Were they part of this lake and the path that led to it he wondered as one of the orbs was close enough to grasp in his palms.
It was something that he knew he had to get used to, a little youth in a tunic and a small Blacksmith's apron as he stayed near the furnace where his father and mother worked. It was a treat to watch them focused on their craft, if was mesmerizing, but also very hot, the boy rubbing beads of sweat from his face. "why don't you try tempering this blade for me son?" his father asked, a burly man with a nick in his chin, holding the small blade in the furnace to begin heating it. green eyes blinked owlishly as he remembered what the process was. heating the steel and then soaking it quickly in oil or fluid. It was his first time to fully approach the furnace and he could remember the flames that leapt up the blade whenever his father placed it in the oil. It was frightening sight to behold the first time when he wailed that he was hurting himself. Oh how he laughed a hearty laugh, warm and bubbly when his mother got off her glass working station to hug him and explain what he was doing, and all the safety measures he followed that was able to quiet his tears.
It was that same process that his father asked him to try, quirking a bushy eyebrow in his direction and telling him to come over with his eyes, so Damien approached, giving a wide berth to the front of the furnace to touch his apron. The furnace was large and he was tiny and scared of it, but the boy was going to try, taking a shaky gloved hand to take the prongs to hold the blade, red hot and angry as his father motioned to drop it in the water. "Carefully" he urged him, his mother stopping to watch and to remind him to take his time, her brown tussled hair bound and tied up. He walked over to the barrel on tiny legs that made the journey longer for him that his parents and dropped it in with a loud hiss, the metal making the water boil and bubble and quickly stop, red metal turning black and no longer lighting the inside of the barrel. it was when he pulled it out that his father asked to take it and looked it over with a careful eye. It was an hour where he learned to bang the metal thin and make an edge to it but the tiny blade was made to be his dirk, the pommel a bead of glass that he worked with his mother to make shiny and round as he could manage, even if it was a little off center. It was the blade that they made as a family and stayed with him, as a young boy's dirk to his utility knife as an adult. It started as a way to face his fear and became his most prized possession.
It was a bittersweet memory, the fact that he was able to see their faces one last time that wanted to leave him raw an open in remorse of their passing, but also praising the lady to allow him this modicum of memory to cherish in the moment, albeit fleeting.
He couldn't remember why he was near the lake and crying.
Nkosazana wasn't blind, and noticed the relief on several people's faces when their names had not been the ones called. They were willing, but overall, they did not want to die. That was probably the feeling of most who volunteered, even the ones who had been chosen.
It was something that did not quite sit comfortably with her, and she watched the new Great Knights with a small sigh. Perhaps she would not necessarily wish to die either, as it was a great responsibility with a great sacrifice, but she was indeed selfless, and she did not know how she would do them more good alive than dead.
Of course, they might all die anyway.
It was with this sense of futility that Nkosazana picked up a branch and followed the lights, saying nothing and keeping her eyes down. It was making a path to the lake? But why did it want her to--eek! Indeed, it seemed that this had all been futile. She picked a branch just in time to be sent to her ultimate, watery death. Perhaps it was a fitting end for someone like her.
Unable to hold her breath for any longer, Nkosazana gasped, expecting to take in too much water and die but instead finding that she was able to breathe just fine. Really? She looked around, baffled by this turn of events. It felt more like she was surrounded by the most comforting furs than water and bubbles.
Bubbles?
Drawn in, Nkosazana reached out for one--
=====================
"Dad?"
No response.
"Daddy!"
A shake of the head.
"Where's Mom?"
She was dogging him, her father, following him and pulling at his shirt sleeve, tapping him on the shoulder, pulling on his hair when she was able to reach for it, poking him in the side when she was able to dodge his arms for it.
Why wouldn't he answer her?
"Is Mom okay? Is she sick again? Is she just sleeping? It's been a long time. I haven't seen her all day!"
There was a long, deep sigh. "I should have known you'd ask. I keep thinking of you like a little girl."
The response caused Nkosazana to reel back. A little girl? "What?"
Her father took her by the shoulder and drew her away, pulling her into a room where her brothers were already sitting, looking a mix between horrified and devastated. Even Zee's shoulders were slumped, which was unusual at best.
Oh no.
Nkosazana pushed her father out of the way, rushing to the bed where her mother lay.
"Mommy..."
=====================
In the end, Nkosazana could not remember why she was crying.
OOC
My character's name: Nkosazana Character's journal link: [Here] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERNkosazana has relatively short wavy black hair kept back. Her eyes are of a similar shade, and her skin is the colour of chocolate. She tends to dress extremely simply, even when armoured, which results in a methodology that seems to rely on no one nearing her physical body in the first place. Rank of character 1d8
Listening to the new seven Great Knights be chosen was bittersweet at best. They would have new leaders to help save Camelot, but they also just watched seven people be handed the ultimate, guaranteed death sentence.
Including someone he was certain he had befriended.
Maybe it was just their shortened memories (and perhaps lives) but Ignatius had at least connected to a few people fairly quickly. The idea that one of them may soon be no more, even if it was to save them all, did not feel nice. But they weren't friends, right? It had been such a short time. Clearly he was fooling himself.
He swallowed hard on a lump he didn't know he was carrying as he tore off a branch from the strange new tree, following the lights towards the lake. The lights were entrancing, at least, and they were lovely to look at as he unknowingly made his way to the lake. Where had the lights come from? Was it the branch? Was it that strange woman-
It seemed that thinking on a strange woman had summoned just that, and he was dragged under the water, quickly kicking and screaming and thrashing about to get back to the surface. Well, until he realized he was screaming without drowning himself.
Really?
It was beautiful down here. Perhaps he could afford to relax. Well, once he got one of those bubbles. There were so many and he was so tempted just to pop one...
=====================
"Ha!"
Ignatius was staring at a suit of armour, looking quite pleased with himself. He had done it! He had pieced this together. It had been difficult, but he had shown some finesse.
Another voice caught his victorious attentions, and Ignatius looked over his shoulder with a, "Hm?" There was a grin on his face from ear to ear, an excited glint in his eyes. The expression itself seemed to cause laughter from the other man.
He strolled up and slapped Ignatius on the back, glancing forward to the armour. "Ig, you have pride in very silly things. Did you even make any of this?"
"Well, no..."
"But?" the other supplied.
Ignatius placed a hand on it. "But I knit the pieces together. I found where everything fit and utilized it. And it looks nice. And I was able to finish it. I finished it, in one sitting. This is something I did."
And it felt wonderful.
=====================
As the memory slipped away, Ignatius felt a surge of pride, something that the Corruption of Camelot had attempted to bury. He didn't know what he was proud of, but perhaps it was obvious. Himself. He was proud of himself.
He had gotten through this much. There was no way he would fall to the shadows now.
Ignatius was ready to go.
OOC
My character's name: Yildirim Ignatius Svarog Character's journal link: [Here] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERIgnatius is surprisingly pale for all the time he spends outside, perhaps the only obvious reaction to his outdoors presence being an abundance of freckles peppering him from top to bottom. His hair is red and kept to his shoulders, usually down and free-moving like much of what he wears. He tends towards light armour, mostly to keep him moving fast--both to chuck his weapon and quickly retrieve it for a fast finishing blow. Rank of character 1d8
As Shayne saw the lake, he couldn't help but to walk towards it. It was like his own body was automatically moving on its own. When the redheaded boy stepped into the water, he looked down and saw a reflection of a woman that was dressed in a white dress. "Huh?" Shayne mumbled as he realized it wasn't his own reflection in the water, but someone else reflection. Suddenly, the woman grabbed Shayne's legs and pulled him beneath the surface. "Ah!" The redheaded boy yelped as he was being pulled deeper and deeper into the lake, Shorty after, he found out that he could still breath somehow.
When Shayne looked down beneath him, he saw thousands of orbs of lights as they slowly drifted towards him. Something feel familiar to the redheaded boy, like he belonged there. When the orbs was now floating around him, Shayne could hear a whisper: a whisper of a female voice. "Join all those that I've lost?" He questioned the whisper female voice. As Shayne touched one of the orbs, a flash of his past hit him."Dead! Dead you filthy swine!" A redheaded guy called as he pointed his sword toward this old guy. "Please have mercy on me! I'm sorry for kidnapping the little girl!" The old guy pleased in fear. "There is no mercy for a son of a mongrel like you! Also, the little girl IS my dear sister!" The redheaded guy risen his sword into the air. "Please! Please, don't kill me! All I was trying to do is get some money to feed my family!" The old guy cried out in fear. "See you in hell, maggots!" The redheaded male slashed his sword at the old guy. Blood spattered across the wall behind the old man. However, the redheaded guy wasn't done as he kept slashing and stabbing away at the old guy. "Stop it, Jayden! Just stop it!. We could had help his poor family and caught him even if he had kidnapped your sister! Why can't you just be like Shayne?" Suddenly a young female voice cried out.
Shayne's brother was on a destruction path. Which lead the Forester Family replaced him. However, they replaced him with Shayne to served them. Slowly, this memory fade away from Shayne's mind.
OOC
My character's name:Shayne McRotten Character's journal link:Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Shayne's look's green eyes, shaggy gingery hair which is in a pony tail, and pale skin. Rank of characterapprentice-knights.
Rikku Takanashi
edited is this better? I know you told me that I don't have to changed it. However, I would like it fit to both of our characters.
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