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 Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 4:20 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 4:21 pm
The Chosen  Savitr Misra
Meaning: His first name means “rouser, stimulator” in Sanskrit. His Old Sanskrit surname originally meant “mixed, manifold”, but was later associated with "honorable".
Nicknames: Sav
Gender: Male
Age: Late twenties-early thirties
Appearance: A swarthy man of above-average height, Savitr is a pleasing enough sight. His hair is a striking brindled color - dark brown with hints of caramel mixed in - and he wears it just a little long. His eyes are the family's brilliant shade green; his jaw often sports stubble; and one ear is pierced. His nimble fingers have a way with knives.
Designation: Chosen
Guardian: Phlegethon
Companion(s): n/a
Origin: Born to a tribe of gypsies, he wanders Sunderland without a proper home.
Station: No one seems to know where he gets his money - some say thievery, others wetwork, yet more suggest he lives on the generosity of wealthy women who are taken with him. Few realize that he is, in fact, a gypsy prince. It is likely that most of his income comes from a combination of odd (if sometimes unscrupulous) jobs, and a bit of thievery.
Spouse: n/a
Likes: Music - the food of the soul. Women - the softer side of life. Knives - nothing like being up close and personal.
Dislikes: Men who mess with his baby sister's feelings - nothing good happens to them.
History:
Firstborn son of a gypsy king, Savitr has led an oddly mixed life filled with uncertainty and simple luxuries; cautious brushes with the law, and questionable dealings with the seedier side of society. From a young age, he has known the love of a warm family and the friendship of his tribe. The darling of the camp, he was reared on music and laughter and vivacity; weaned on pickpocketry, knife work, and deception. All of this, he embraced full-heartedly.
Though he enjoyed the undivided attention of his parents for a few years, soon enough he found himself a big brother. Though he wanted to be jealous and kick up a fit at having to share the attention, he was charmed upon sight by his tiny, baby sister. Falling into the role of the protective elder brother, he took it upon himself to teach her everything he knew - particularly how to protect herself and how to liberate valuables from their unworthy owners.
When he found himself a brother for the second time, he shared his duties as elder sibling with Rajani - though in truth, little Lana was a gentle thing, not at all made for knife-fighting or pickpocketing. But that was alright. Between himself and Raja, Lana would be safe enough.
As he grew, so too did he grow into other roles. Not least of which being that of the golden boy of the tribe. Learning from the best, he became a charmer and a rake - dangerous to his enemies and a temptation to ladies of a certain temperament. Though not precisely law-abiding, his life, for a time, was charmed.
Then tragedy struck.
Dear Lana, never the most healthy child, finally succumbed to her illness and died. Rajani, unable to bear the pain of her sister's passing, left the tribe to wander on her own, never returning. In one blow, Savitr lost both of his sisters.
For a time, he knew not what to do with himself. Outwardly, he carried on as always - perhaps he was not as warm as he had once been, but that was to be expected. However inside, he was at a loss. He could not really leave his tribe for an extended period of time - his father was hale, but his place was still with them. Yet there was an emptiness now in his life that he did not know what to do with. Perhaps because of that emptiness, he became a little more mercenary in his dealings with much of the world. It was also so very tempting to lash out...
However, before he could lose himself any more than that, he felt the pull; and in short order, he found himself with a totem as grand as any he'd ever heard of. A handsome lad he dubbed Phlegethon.
Perhaps it was because Phle was such a temperamental handful that Savitr leveled out somewhat. The Guardian was vicious enough for the both of them. It was as though he had taken Savitr's anger and emptiness into himself and reflected it back at the world, and thus the man no longer needed to be so angry. This is not to say that Sav was gentled, but rather his volatility was nipped in the bud. He found an equilibrium with young Phle and for a time, that was enough.
Eventually, however, he heard rumors of his wayward sister that troubled him. She had been left alone long enough. It was time to reunite the family.
About:
Embracing his peoples' verve for life, Savitr indulges his passions and always seems to take on the world with cheerful good humor. More often smiling than not, it is rare to witness any foul temperament from him. However, this is not to say that he never gets angry. To the contrary, he can deliver threats with a smile on his face and could cheerfully eviscerate an enemy. In this, his jovial attitude is both a truth and a mask, for while he does prefer happiness to sorrow, that same happiness hides something much different inside.
Given his life experience, and the fact that he is no idiot, it is safe to say that Sav knows exactly the effect he has on people. Behind his flirtation often lurks calculation. Behind his smiles, a serpent's eyes observe the world. Though he may dance and make music with genuine pleasure, it is unwise to trust someone who can lie with his eyes.
Important People:
• Rajani Misra: Though his little sister has strayed from the family, she remains precious to him.
• Harinder Misra: Father and king, this man's footsteps are difficult to follow, but he holds Sav's love and respect regardless.
• Lana Misra: Never let it be said that the death of his youngest sister has not affected him. She was as dear to him as Rajani.
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 4:22 pm
The Guardian  Phlegethon
Meaning: He is named for the River of Rage in Tartarus, in honor of his mother, Lethe. It is said to be a river of fire or, alternately, a river of hot blood. It burns, but never consumes what it burns.
Nicknames: Phle (Flee)
Gender: Male
Stage: Adult
Appearance: He is a pale grey buck with medium grey eyes. He has markings as though a bloody river runs up his rear leg towards his eye. His antlers are black.
Chosen: Savitr Misra
Mate: n/a
Obtained: Breeding between Lethe and Purp's Elise, 2014
About:
Phlegethon has a temper on him, make no mistake. His antlers aren't there for decoration and his name was not chosen idly. He has no qualms about putting every weapon available to him to good use, and feels a remorseless sense of satisfaction when he has done so. Given his prickly pride, it does not take much to set him off. However, he is not without his own moral code of sorts. Any man, wolf, buck or beast to raise his ire is fair game, but most ladies and does are safe from his wrath. This is not to say that he will not defend himself if attacked, of course, but he does try to be gentle with them.
Outwardly, it might seem as though this mean-tempered Guardian and the cheerful Savitr are a drastic mismatch, but in truth, their spirits are much the same. Phle thus respects his Chosen. Perhaps in time he will learn to temper his anger and wield it as skillfully as Sav.
Important People:
• Lethe: His mother.
• Elise: His other mother. XD
• Jupiter: His elder sister.
• Carmine: His younger sister.
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 4:23 pm
The Choosing
 Guardians were not the most common of species - particularly not in recent years - however, Savitr was not a common man. He was Roma. He had been raised on hard truths and fantastical tales of old. He knew that what appeared beautiful on the surface was sometimes rotten underneath and that there was more to the world than could always be readily explained. He knew better than to put stock in charlatans, but he also knew that some possessed a subtle touch of the other. When he first felt the call, he was surprised, to be sure; but, he was not so ignorant or foolish as to ignore it. With little ado, he packed up a few supplies and began his journey.
His journey was quiet and solitary without any real fuss. Under usual circumstances, such a trip might bore him; however, these were far from usual circumstances. He made good use of the time to inspect the call, studying it, turning it this way and that in his mind, rolling the flavor across his tongue, and dissecting its every note with his keen ears. What he found intrigued him.
It was a multifaceted thing, complex and wondrous. There was strength in that call, a demand that would not be denied. That was fine; he was used to indulging the young. The Guardian would learn. Yet at the same time, there was such passion, such verve. This was a creature that would match him, perhaps even challenge him. For the first time in a long time, he felt life stirring in his own veins. Without ever having laid eyes on this creature, Savitr already felt a bond, a connection of kindred souls.
Dark and ominous though it may be, the Wood did not frighten him. He thought he could sympathize with the angry thing which did not wish to be disturbed. From there, it did not take so very long to reach the Tree - truly, a sight straight from the tales he had heard as a child. It was a marvel to behold, but he wasted little time following that demanding pull to a striking buck perched a good distance up the tree. Ah, yes. Here was the one who railed against his dormant state. Here was the one who had called him.
With a grin, Sav retrieved the little totem from the tree, marveling at the tingle that ran through his fingers and up his arm. As unexpected as that was, he could not help but be even more intrigued by the way the long, grey whorls seemed to pulse with a faint light.
He was content to sit there for a time, tucked in the mighty branches of the Ward Tree, learning every detail of his new totem; however, he knew he could not stay. Now that he had gotten what he had come for, there was no reason to linger. He was rested, his totem was safely tucked away on his person. It was time to go.
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 4:24 pm
The Stories
Color: siennaLooking for:
Just about anything.
Log:
• Stolen Moments: Niamh & Savitr (In Progress)
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