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 Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2013 8:27 pm
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:09 pm
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 Item: Cloak
Name: Tiffan
Appearance: A decently large sized plague standing just slightly under four inches, her most visible feature is the bright red cloak she wears. Richly embroidered with gold along the edges, it covers most of a cream-colored dress. Most notable is the large hood attached to the cloak, large enough to hide most of her head in.
Personality: To put it simply, Tiffan wishes to see the world without the world seeing her. She constantly seems torn between two motivations, her naturally curious disposition makes her want to explore the world that had been denied to her thus far, but there is also a learned instinct to seek out safety. This instinct, which can border on paranoia at times, was picked up from her previous Grimm, Ernis Heward, a man who was so insecure with his power and position that he was suspicious of nearly everything and everyone. Exposure to this mentality, along with the exclusion of any other exposure to other people, has led to this behavior being deeply ingrained in her mind, and will often overwhelm any other instincts or thought processes that she might have had otherwise.
This behavior shows itself in several ways, the most obvious of which is her rather skittish demeanor when in situations that make her feel uncomfortable and unsafe. Which, unfortunately, is most of them. There is always a current of fear flowing through the back of her mind that her Ernis is always a step behind her, ready to capture her and bring her back into his clutches. That fear keeps her going, always wishing to keep moving forward, but it also has her casting an eye over her shoulder often, as if sure that he is only steps behind her.
And as much as she would deny it, she has taken on some of his behavioral traits as well. Much like her old Grimm, she is slow to trust, and will take everything that anyone says with a liberal grain of salt. However, most of her distrust stems from the belief that other people will try and capture her and use her for their own gain. If she senses that someone is trying to control or confine her, she will start looking for a way out immediately.
However, at times her natural sense of curiosity wins out, and she will find herself lurking around the edges of situations she would usually flee from. She finds herself drawn to loud and exuberant people and personalities, and often seems to be entranced when people are talking to her, and seems to take particular delight in listening to stories and similarly wild activities. The more comfortable she is with a person and a situation the less skittish she tends to be, and is more willing to be closer to people and participate more in conversations and activities than she would normally.
When pushed beyond her comfort level, however, all sense of her curiosity will disappear and she will focus entirely of getting out of that situation. Unlike Terrowin, who simply tries to avoid unpleasant situations, she actively will seek out her own comfort and safety and will not shy away from doing what it takes to do so. After some time her anxiety and worry will decrease, but she will still attempt to remove herself from similar predicaments, seemingly just for fun.
As a whole, she tends to distrust humans, especially those affiliated with the Fellowship, and will take much more convincing and time to trust them. On the other hand, she will open up to other Plagues more readily, especially when she is in a situation to chose between a Plague and a human. Because of this, she does not find the idea of politicking in the factions to be appealing in the slightest, as she sees it as another way for people to use her for their benefit. At the moment she is relying on her and Terrowin’s nomadic lifestyle to keep her out of most of it, though in the future she will likely be forced into a situation where not being involved is unavoidable.
In Short:
+ Curious/Inquisitive
+ Quick-thinking
+ Observant
- Paranoid/Distrusting
- Flighty
- Quick to jump to conclusions |
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:12 pm
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The cloak was almost as well known as the one who usually wore it. It could often be seen, a vibrant spot of red against the stark white of the snow, moving from the headquarters of the Fellowship to a nearby town. The woman underneath it was not as vibrant looking, though people reacted to her presence as if he were a shining jewel. None passed without a smile or a kind word in greeting, and she greeted them all as if they were each her dearest friend. She was a valuable member of her community, and she and her family were well-regarded within the Fellowship itself.
Such prosperity in such cruel times was never left untouched, unfortunately, and the woman in the cloak was one of the victims claimed by the plague. Her family grieved, though some members were more sincere in their sorrow than others. One, a distant cousin who the woman barely saw, seemed particularly touched by her passing.
The family never suspected his ulterior motives, and everyone was too busy to notice something missing from her room, too busy to notice the empty hook on the back of the door that usually held her cloak. The cloak, of course, held the unmistakable stench of death about it, and the hem had begun to darken, something that could possibly be confused for dirt or mud. But he knew better. The item was plagued, and it was his ticket to ascend the ranks.
Like most of his family, he was a part of the Fellowship, but unlike the dying woman, he was almost an unknown entity within the Fellowship, but Plagues… He saw the status that those with Plagues received, and perhaps since this item had been plagued by such a successful mage, the Plague that resulted from it would be equally as talented. Regardless, it would be a much-anticipated acquisition for him, and he kept an almost constant watch on the cloak for a sign of any changes. His day finally came, and he proudly presented a small handful of red and white to the Fellowship.
All was going well, as far as anyone was concerned. His Plague seemed to be quiet and shy, always staying close to her Grimm and rarely speaking up, allowing him to finish her conversations whenever she actually did. But that was far from the actual truth. Her natural curiosity was being smothered by her Grimm, who was afraid that all that he had gained would be taken away, just as he had taken the cloak for himself. He never let her out of his sight, never let her roam from him when they were around other people, and rarely let her spoke, stepping in whenever she did. His paranoia grew as the days passed, until he rarely let her leave his grasp.
His screams of rage could be heard all over the Fellowship headquarters when he woke up and found her missing one morning. But look as he might, she was nowhere to be found, though if one looked very carefully one might notice the tiniest speck of red making it’s way through the snow.
She ran, and she ran, and she ran until she could run no further. Then she walked, for she was sure that far would never be far enough to get away from he Grimm- her former Grimm. But eventually she tired, both from exhaustion as well as fear, and crawled under the first shelter she could find, too weary to see exactly what she was crawling into.
She was awoken the next day by a very startled and confused Terrowin, who was simply looking in his bag for something and found something completely different. |
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:17 pm
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Name: Terrowin Fowke Parzifal
Age: 29
Faction: Currently unaffiliated with any faction.
Region: Originally from Shyregoed, has been wandering around everywhere since then, making a rough circuit of Panymium
Personality: Terrowin is something of a depressing person. Life on the road has not been too kind on him, and has made his naturally melancholic tendencies to become somewhat exaggerated. He is not very trusting of strangers, due to being robbed and ambushed several times, and as such does not like being approached out of the blue or being followed. At first he can come off as incredibly paranoid and twitchy, and be reluctant to stay around for long, but if someone is able to make him stay in one place for long enough, he at least stops trying to sneak away. Having been relatively isolated from people and having no sustained relationships over a few years, his communication and social skills have degraded significantly. Much of this isolation is self inflicted, initially stemming from a fear of being rejected and betrayed, but this fear was only strengthened after being robbed several times on his travels. When talking to someone he will be very obviously nervous, have a hard time keeping eye-contact, and will be rather fidgety. As with most things, the longer one talks to him, the less nervous he will get (or occasionally more, depending on the person and situation). If he is able to, he will get away without actually speaking, and will rely on gestures and nodding and shaking his head. When he does speak he is pretty quiet, and his voice tends to catch and stumble over words. He does have a dry and often self-deprecating sense of humor, something of an attempt to roll with the punches that life has given him.
Regardless of his often depressing perspective on things, living on the road seems to agree with him quite well. While it certainly isn’t as comfortable as his old life at home, he has managed to at least keep himself fed and (usually) with a roof over his head. He has been able to focus more on himself since leaving the family business, which has given him plenty of time to focus more on himself and the things he enjoys. An enjoyment of music has turned from an idle fancy, to a hobby, to a means of survival. He uses it not only as a way to make money, but to keep himself occupied during his lonely travels. Despite his generally morose temperament, most of the music he plays is cheery and upbeat in nature.
The only time when he doesn’t seem to be a complete nervous wreck is when he is by himself, or not entirely paying attention to his surroundings when he is engrossed in some task. At those times, he can usually be found whistling, singing, or humming some sort of tune, or, on occasion, even playing on of his instruments. He tends to stop the second he notices that someone is nearby, though he can be occasionally coaxed into continuing.
Appearance: Image!
Terrowin is relatively tall, measuring in around 6', though his usually slouched posture makes him seem shorter than he actually is. He is rather thin and lanky, though much of his thinness seems to come from his lifestyle and lack of stable meals. He has unfortunately pale skin, which usually sports an almost perpetual sunburn whenever he goes south of Shyregoed. His hair is always in a sort of disarray, having mostly been cut by himself over the years, and too curly to keep overly neat.
When first seeing him, and really any time seeing him, he comes across as an overly nervous person. His watery blue eyes are always looking around, never settling on one place for more than a few minutes, and his spindly hands are always fidgeting with something.
He has a tendency to dress in layers, putting on and taking off what is necessary according to the weather. All of his clothes were obviously well made, as they have held up well over the years, but they have begun to fray a bit around the edges and been patched up several times, and the once rich dye has faded.
History: [Terrowin comes from Shyregoed, and belonged to a relatively prosperous trading family, who mostly were the middleman between the local furriers and Everyone Else. As a child, Terrowin was not the most outgoing or adventurous child to have ever existed, and even at a young age a strong streak of nervousness ran through him. He did not socialize with the other children in town too often or put himself out there when he was working, preferring to be behind the scenes or off to the side. This gave his parents some cause for concern, but as he reached his teenage years they did not have much of a chance to address the issue. Trade had begun to diminish in the recent years and they had to work harder than ever to maintain the comfortable lifestyle they were used to. Rather than attempting to get him to get out there more, he was simply put to work instead, and so missed out on those necessary years where most learned how to interact with others his own age.
After a year or so, everything seemed to be going as well as things could be as trade became steadier, and young Terrowin was in love. Through working with his father, Terrowin got to know one of the local furriers they often traded with, but more importantly, he got to know the furrier’s daughter. If asked, he could not really put into words what it was about her that made him so interested. She was not a great beauty by any stretch of the imagination, nor was she terribly bright or ambitious. But she was kind to him, and was patient with his awkwardness. Over time she slowly began to draw him out of his shell, chatting to him almost constantly as their fathers were doing business. She eventually got him to talk to her about something other than trading, and it all was downhill from there. Small tokens were passed back and forth amongst the trading goods, quick moments alone were stolen when no one was looking, and, eventually, they began sneaking out at night. Their usual tryst spot was an ancient oak tree slightly past the boundary of the town, its branches large and dense enough to keep the ground underneath mostly free of snow. It was once a common meeting spot within the town, but it had rarely been used for the past few years, after an area nearby had been turned into a graveyard for the plague victims. But the unspoken threat of disease only seemed to make it all the more exciting. All was well, the world was rosy, and everything was happy.
Until her father found out.
That led to a rather startling discovery on his part; she was already promised to someone else. He somehow managed to survive the horror and embarrassment that followed, though he wasn’t quite sure how he hadn’t been skinned alive when he had to talk to her father, that was something of a miracle in his eyes. Time continued to pass, but a melancholy had settled over him, and he has lost quite a bit of his spark. He seemed to find little enjoyment in his hobbies, was listless in working, and was, all around, a moping, heartbroken young man. The final straw, it seemed, was one day in the spring when a wedding was held. Of course it was the wedding of the furrier’s daughter, and in his sorrowful state of mind he made a rather and unwise decisions. The first was to get drunk. The second wasn’t wholly his fault, her fiancée was the one that had approached him initially, but he was the one that punched him in the nose. The expected fuss was raised afterwards, and the scorn and anger was a bit too much for his mostly drunk self to handle. So he made his third terrible decision, and left.
The next morning for him was not so wonderful, the combination of a hangover and the realization of what he had done did not make for a good morning, and he made his shameful way home. His parents, either hoping to snap him out of his depression or just wanting to get him out of the house, decided to have him help out the family business in a slightly different way. They began to send him out to deal with the traders in other towns, and, over time, the distance he traveled grew. Eventually he simply stopped returning home, and traveled simply for himself.
The next few years were not pleasant, as he only had the skills he learned at his family’s trading business and a moderate skill of music. But, as with most things, you either sink or swim when you dive into the deep end, and he managed to find his feet and scrape by a vaguely decent living from his music. He’s slowly been working his way around the continent, and he never quite stays in one place for too long. There is never one specific reason that keeps him from settling down, sometimes he just can’t find space for himself in a place, sometimes people are (understandably) wary of strangers, sometimes he just gets itchy feet and has the urge to keep on going.
There are always dangers with traveling on the road, and Terrowin has encountered quite a few of them. He has been stuck in any weather situation you could think of, he’s had to walk, ride unpleasant horses, deal with grumpy traveling companions, and also with highwaymen and robbers. The last one who actually stopped him took most of his belongings, leaving him mostly with his old clothes. Among the things that were taken were a gittern, small mementos of his home, and the money that he had been carefully saving up over the years. This only left him with a small flute and a rauschpfeife in which to make money, which isn’t really working too well for him. After this latest misfortune, he has started to travel up back to Shyregoed to see his family in the hopes that he would be able to receive some help getting back on his feet properly again.
He was rather surprised to find that he had a plague hiding itself away in his bag, though after an initial awkward few days, the two seemed to have fallen into a comfortable sort of routine. Times spent traveling by themselves is usually spent with him teaching her some sort of music, or her simply listening to him play/sing/whistle/hum, and when other people approach them, she hides. He tends to use her as a sort of canary when it comes to danger or trouble, and will usually follow her lead when it comes to when and how to leave a place. |
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:17 pm
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:20 pm
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:21 pm
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Ancelm Iberd Parzifal (Father, 53) - The bookkeeper and businessman of the family, he is the one that negotiates with the various trappers, furriers, and merchants they deal with. Ancelm is a quiet and stoic man, never showing much emotion aside from an almost perpetual look of slight weariness.
Swetyne Parzifal (Mother, 49) - A reserved and gentle woman, Swetyne is the one who runs the storefront and house. Though she does stick mostly to traditionally feminine roles, she was the one who taught both of her children most of what they know, save for knowledge related to the business. Has a fondness for music that she passed on to Terrowin.
Mylle Hawyse Fitton (Sister, 25) - Married to a trapper and helps run the storefront while her husband is out trapping. Mylle is a cheerful and optimistic woman who seemed to have inherited much of her father's shrewdness when it comes to business. She is handy with a needle and thread, and her works can be seen in the shop, ranging from fur-trimmed garments to elaborately embroidered and beaded pieces. At the moment she is massively pregnant. Should anyone wish to find Terrowin's current location, Mylle frequently receives letters from him updating her on his whereabouts.
The Shop: Terrowin's family's shop deals mostly in furs and leathers, both in plain product and worked goods. The store itself is relatively small, though it is lined with various fur-lined and leather garments and cabinets. The products range from gloves to capes, and are either plainly decorated, or heavily embroidered and beaded. The back wall of the room is dominated by a heavy wooden desk that is placed in front of a door that leads to the store rooms and the steps to their living quarters. The cabinets are filled with plain garments ready to be fitted and customized and various furs and leathers to show off to any potential customers.
There are two doors leading to the shop, the first opens into a short hallway to keep the cold air and snow blowing in whenever someone opens the door.
Ernis Heward (Previous Grimm, 37) - A power-hungry and envious man, Ernis will do what it takes to further himself within society. Bitter at the supposed snubbing he received from the main branch of his family, his drive to surpass them fuels most of his actions. Paranoid to a fault, he fears that all he has gained so far will be taken from him. He acts overly polite and subservient to those higher-up than him in an attempt to make a good impression, though he plots and plans behind their backs. He does not take loss well, and his reaction to losing Tiffan has soured his image in the eye of the Fellowship, causing him to be demoted in rank. He continues to search for her, though it is obvious that he is not looking out of worry or concern.
Stunteds:
Larkin-Ibb-Ive-Quinn
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Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 7:22 pm
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