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 Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 11:24 am
 (Lines by jayoku, Color by Heras Box)|| Stat Page || Updated: Jun/24/16
Experience || 25
Inventory
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:05 pm
Name: Keelthy Stage: Prentice Race: Fire Gender: Boy 3 Base Traits: Picky – Things must be in their proper place or done the way he sees they should be done, things missing, out of order, the wrong shade, position in space....simply deplorable, this goes like that and that is that. Especially when it comes to dance, the body should move and flow properly through the space even if that space is a forest full of trees and roots and radaku. Carefree – He is free of the oppression that his spirit somehow survived, now there is a world of freedom out there to enjoy, to feel to touch. Why be grouchy when each day is a new day! So what if you almost fell out of that tree, no one was watching, it won’t go against your mostly graceful record! Shameless – If there is someone out there he finds attractive (most people) he will not hesitate to ham it up and offer dance lessons, these hips were made for swaying it is as simple as that. Personality: He is carefree, forward and shameless, no matter who you are you may be charmed out of your socks and flirted with. He is compassionate and stubborn, he lives to make people laugh and enjoys life fully. He likes to use his skills to spread more beauty into the world, he does this through his chosen profession of dance, he has given everything (except his brother), up for his passion and he will cling to it tooth and claw. Keelthy is a durable survivor always looking for a way out of a dangerous situation. He is smart and uses his head when he can. When he can't his brother is usually around as the token "brawn". He is determined and purposeful in situations such as these he has his own dose of the famous Rentrad pride and he still values honor but in a different context to him following one's dream is not dishonorable, if he had wanted to pursue a trade that would not have been dishonorable either to him. Overall away from hostiles he is a friendly people person, the more people the better. He basks in their presence and hopes that he is able to return the favor. His brother often has to check his more suave behaviour depending on the crowd.. but if Reil is not around~ Keelthy can do whatever he wants, the more blushes the better. He doesn't care whether you are male or female, tall or short, whatever. All deserve attention. Description: Dark skin matching his brother, slightly brighter red eyes, Clothing: Red sandals,bright red draping clothing that forms dips and loops arm banners that attatch at the middle finger. Dressed to make a flowing look when he moves. Link Accessories: Anklet of red stones. History: Keelthy chose to be a dancer at a young age, it was hoped by uncles that he would give it up and choose a proper one, but upon maturity only dance called to Keelthy properly. It was then that the Uncles chose to disown him from the family. His father was absent being the only brother still employed. There is a good possibility that had his father been present the issues would have never come to a head in this way. Father is fiercely protective of both of his sons. The uncles cornered Keelthy and tore the family headress from him publicly. The cord was removed and the stone dropped. As Keelthy fled, his brother, ever his most staunch supporter saved the stone, and later included it in an anklet for his brother. He was still family no matter what anyone said. Keelthy and Reil fled to Jauhar and have resided there since. Here they search for the father of the family who sheltered them as they fled Oba. Both brothers are deeply grateful to Varinia the lost man's daughter and her mother for opening their hearts to a family in need. Here Keelthy is finally able to be himself. Apparently his father has discovered their disapearance and Keelthy worries he will try to return them to Oba too soon after the confrontation. He misses both his father and his mother deeply, hopefully she could explain to their father what had happened and why they had needed to go.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:17 pm
35/451 Cq 15 points - Ethelfleade rp Deja Vu5 Points - Mystery Mask Mystery Mask 10 Points - 4 peeps XxX5 points - Searching for Fleade Solo XXX
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:26 pm
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:27 pm
Relationships
Reillan - Brother
Varinia - Friend
Bhima - Aquiantance
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:29 pm
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:32 pm
Photos
Official Prentice Art = Kana
Tendaji concept = Kana and Satin Doilee
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 12:33 pm
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:03 pm
Solo 001
He felt like everything was right in the world, except for that sneaking suspicion that he had potentially ruined his brother’s life. Except that Keelthy had not asked his brother to come with him. He had been in so much shock right after the incident that he had barely come to the same conclusion as his brother when Reillan had showed up with his own wordly belongings, and started steering them both away from their home. He admired how calm his brother had seemed as he had procured supplies, only breaking once they had reached Varinia’s home, and what a stroke of luck that the Lady Varinia had taken them, the proverbial “rabble” in when they needed it most. Reil had collapsed on their borrowed bed and buried his face in a pillow. This left Keelthy to wander the house while his brother struggled with the demons that had followed him.
Initially the new house felt alien and strange to him, but without the undercurrents created by close proximity to his uncles it felt somehow more attractive the longer it went on. At one point he found himself outside the door to her room, his hand raised to knock, but he hesitated and returned to Reillan. What did he expect her to give him? Comfort. Something magical to pack the holes in his heart. He only had Reillan here with him and he was mostly unresponsive, was it more selfish for him to pester Var or Reil? He shook his head.
He had left his family, perhaps not by choice, but what must his mother be feeling? One son kicked out, and the other following directly after. He managed to get back to Reillan’s room before he fell to his knees beside the bed, breathing sporadically between heaving sobs that he choked off before they became too loud. Soon enough though his brother’s arms enfolded him and they rocked together, broken, but strong.
Just the memory of that night bent him over the emotions fighting to the forefront and attempting to take over his body again. He fought it down, but his momentary bask in pure happiness was over for the moment. He had a past and it followed him. The best he could do would be to avoid it until he had enough power to deal with it. He didn’t think he would have to fight alone either, Reil would be there for him. Not for the first or the last time, he blessed his mother for having twins. Now it seemed he needed something to do. Reillan had his sword swatty, sweaty, who can get the most welts and bruises thing going for him, Keelthy helped where he could but mostly as target practice as he was lighter then his brother on his feet.
But making the effort to truly fight back just didn’t appeal to him, that and his favorite method of holding a sword was as though it was a venomous snake. An act which had made both his father and Reillan get identical constipated looks on their faces. He sighed happily, it was worth picking a sword up for that but nothing else. He didn’t much fancy any of the other weapons, preferring to use his eyes and tongue, he didn’t like the sight of blood or any of the other nasty things that healers had to deal with on a daily basis so he wasn’t going that direction, nope.
He could appreciate fine music but couldn’t make a cohesive harmony with any instrument, he made what Reillan called a Harbuncle, he could sing a little but nothing spectacular. This left dance which in his opinion far surpassed any of his other “skills.”
Dance was just as intricate as war, just as action filled but instead of trading in a currency of fear and blood dancing was designed to be beautiful and peaceful. It could communicate stories without words, admiration without gifts and passion in the oldest way possible. He grinned and swayed his hips in a sashay as he walked.
Aw yeah! The world was his canvas, dance was his medium and his body the toll he used to paint. The art melded body and mind, that was the feeling he loved most. Shuffle, shuffle, twist, twist, hmm, it needed something... he yanked an Oban woman from the crowd and lead her along. She picked up the rythym fast and they danced the length of the street before he bowed before her and released her hand, “Thank you for the dance,” he said breathlessly. She giggled and waved him off, most likely returning to a loving husband with groove like that, lucky man. Keelthy shimmied as he walked along another street, here there was a market and a healer. It would be a good street to remember, he parused the market and chose some of the weirdest but good looking fruit, wondering if he could get Reil to test it out first.
No doubt he would have to haul Reillan back here to the healer at some point soon if he kept training in that ring, silly man, why chance ruining his perfect dark chocolate skin? Keelthy scraped an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder, there, it was important to keep up clothing lest there be a mishap or something. He carried the fruit home and arranged it neatly to fit in with the rest of the decor, scanty as it was, they had made a little shanty for themselves, finding that the wet was insufferable without a roof. It was a modest, temporary home, but he adored it, and with a few upgrades and reinforcement it would do very well for them. Odd that they had a home on the ground without others stacked on top. It was home for now. He nudged one of the fruits into better position. Yup he definitely needed something to occupy his time. Maybe he would sign up for foraging expeditions, because if he stayed in the house for too long...the whole village would be organized whether it wanted to be or not.
Word Count: 1,017
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 2:19 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 23, 2015 11:49 am
Solo 3
Keelthy paced about the camp that he had made with his brother. Its flat sides were tied together with twine and insulated with clay, their shanty was humble but strong as he must be if he were ever to leace this place. The rain poured down on him soaking his hair and plastering it to his face. He glanced skyward, the trick to a good dance was to be calm and in control, he had achieved this through intense practice. First without and then with the blades that his brother had found for him. He started his routine now, he was fast and using the small blades didn’t diminish his speed like larger weapons would... at least once he was sure he wouldn’t stab himself that was. He whirled strong and fast the blades glinting in the misty light. Finally he had it down perfect, he was ready. Life away from home had not been easy, it had worn a few layers off of his formerly delicate skin. Harder, faster stronger yes, but he was still himself at his core, he had learned how to protect himself, had made amazing new friends who accepted him for who he was and he had maintained the most important relationship with his brother. Together they were stronger, together they were better then the sum of themselves and together they would return to their family and prove their worth. Keelthy wanted to see Oba again and Reill was determined that he be given the respect he thought his brother deserved. Keelthy now realized that he wanted that badly too, thus his weapons training but training HIS way.
Now it appeared that they would be looking after the little alkidike that they had found as well. He had to admit she was cute, he could tell she had been through tough times too from her attitude. Perhaps they had found her for a higher reason...perhaps she would be best off with them. What a cruel people to desert a child thusly. He hoped that the tree that was supposedly the mother of all alkidikes still loved her daughter. That was the key to everything, love.
Love and understanding, it was what made the world turn in peace time, what glued families together and what healed them after they were broken. Who knew maybe yitzah would grow up like an oban if she stayed with them long enough, but really she was more of a guest. A particularly short guest that would freeze or starve in Jauhar and be eaten most likely in Oba if she wasn’t escorted, what else could they do. Besides Xarthin liked alkidikes for some reason, and he would ensure she remained unharmed...even if he wasn’t the most likely or best babysitter. Come to think of it Yi was just about their age just right on that cusp into prenticehood. Perhaps she had more in commen with them then they thought. There was only one way to find out in any case. He was kinda excited about it.
Then too Oba had his own people, he liked the tendajians but he had missed the crowd of Oba even if he didn’t think Reill did. Oba just seemed to have all the action and when you put so many fiery souls together something interesting was bound to happen, and often. Which was just how he liked it. Now he would walk through those streets again, straight backed and proud, stomp up to one of his uncles and pull the diadem from his face and put it on. Reill said he deserved it more then they did and he was apt to believe it. And his father would be there, his knees weakened and he almost stumbled what had his father done to his uncles in the mean time, he was sure and Reill was double sure that their fathers love eclipsed their uncles hatred..and ...and mom. This time his knees did buckle. Some uber strong Oban he was now, weak kneed about the thought ofhis family. Tears made salty two salty trackways down his face. He closed his eyes and when he opened them a huge snout was all he could see. The snout nudged his face gently and he patted it encouragingly and Xarthin shoved his entire head into Keelthys lap.
Keelthy was soothed, well Xarthin had started out as Reillans but he had never properly bonded with the beast so now Xarthin was his and was often very good at appearing at the just the right time when Keel needed him. For which Keel was very grateful, just because he could fight for himself now, it doesn’t mean that he wanted to all the time. It was on a if needed draw daggers basis and unfortunately daggers could not fight tears. So he cuddled with the giant janarim instead.
Grunting finally he toughened up and swung himself onto Xarthins back, it was the first time he had ridden the Janarim but soon it would be a time for first everythings. He felt powerful up here, free, strong a little power crazy. He had to train him now or something would probably go wrong in the future so now was the time, Xar was smart and when Keel nudged his sides the Janarim took off Keel clinging to his back. This felt amazing, he could see the legs span the ground the muscles propelling them forward at an alarming speed. This was it, he could be a dancer and a janarim rider, who would see that coming. It was a brilliant plan. Blades, janarim, loyalty he was the whole package. He was going home and he would claim it as his own come sandstorm or fire. This was his greatest goal, soon enough he would accomplish it and then he could think about another goal. For now he would ride until his butt ached.
Some time later he came back to the shanty, hair ruffled from the wind. He slid off Xarthin and hobbled over to get him a treat, he had not counted on the saddlesoreness at all. He giggled despite himself, he knew now that he was a man, no matter what anyone said, he could be whatever he wanted.
Word Count: 1040
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2015 6:15 pm
1567
Keelthy rolled over to place an arm over his personal bed heater...and found an empty space under his hand instead. “What the....?” He asked no one in particular as his red eyes popped open to see no Fleade in her accustomed spot, no yellow eyed stare that felt like it was captivating him without her trying. Most of all there was no comforting warmth which he had come to expect. They shared a bed for convinience for the most part, she had after all taken over his room, making it her mini kingdom in his families house. Groggy he peered around..and noticed her things were gone as well, his flopping hand hit something that made a small crinkling noise, he picked up a note and squinted at it.
A note, she had left him a note, she knew he couldn't read right when he woke up, his vision was always too blurry right off the batt in the morning while his brain took forever to wake up fully. He squinted at it until he could make out the characters. She had gone to resolve some buisness, blah blah, wait. She said she loved him! His heart soared; but she had also left and it plummeted. Why had she gone without him? He hated emotional stress in the morning it always made him respond as if he had just been chased up a tree by a janarim or something equally scary.
He felt bereft, empty, souless, but not heartless, no that organ was distinctly there and whining that the one thing it truly adored had skipped out on morning snuggles to go triapsing off in the dark to a freezing cold territory in the north of Tendaji...or at least he thought her home was in Zena. From the fur he had always thought that she had been raised there, no sane person wore fur in Oba.
Love, was such a complicated, many layered phenomenon. His father had always told him that the most powerful swords and the largest of armies were not the driving force of the universe, that love could level mountains and make an army inert and useless. This was apparently why he had chosen their Mother, something about marrying the strongest person without that person ever needing a weapon. Now finally he understood what his father had meant. Love hurt, love healed and love was quickly starting to eclipse everything else in his life. Still, why did love have to lead him to Zena, why not Matori, Matori had beaches and heat and coconuts and heat. He was a dancer a cold dancer was simply someone who shivered or couldn't move because too many clothes to prevent the shivering. He sighed. He knew he was going. His half perky attitude was due only to the admission on one small sheet of paper. A peice of paper that changed absolutely everything, especially in the absence of its author.
Why fight the inevitable even if he was going to have to buy furs at some point. He paused to think about why she had left without him. Maybe it had something to do with his being Oban and icelings, (being rather like obans), could at times be a little judgey about suitable mates or friends not being of the accepted race. She didn't seem like that, but her parents might be. If something or someone was chasing her from her past, would he be a target? Or could he possibly save her ...again. Would she feel he was crowding her? Oh this woman made him crazy! He didn't have the answers to any of these questions and he was too stupid and anxious to use good ol' deductive reasoning.
Also he would have to meet the parents...having fought for acceptance in his own family from a pathetically early age, he could only fathom what it would be like weaseling his way into an iceling mothers cold heart after her daughter appeared out of no where with him skullking behind like a lovesick pup. Him and his lean lithe dancers body, despite the daggers he wore. Would they ostracise him on the fact he was not a real warrior like his uncles had tried to do? Going through that once had been quite enough thank you. He didn't need to start every chapter of his life with; and then Keelthy was kicked out because he could sashay better than the lot of them.
However he would do things for her that he wouldn't dream about doing for himself. He supposed that told him more than he needed to know about how he felt about her, their love was new sure, but it was strong and growing. He needed to nurture that love and there was one thing their family didn't joke around with; support. He would be there for Fleade, as long and she wanted him to be, their family was a group of warriors and warrior blood flowed through him along with all of the determination and stoicism that entailed. His brother had never let him down and his father had fought valiantly for his rights just as he would fight for Fleade in whichever capacity she needed.
Despite that, he did wonder how determined his behind would be if he got lost in Zena..maybe he could take his brother? Reillan had a really good sense of direction and Keel wouldn't rather have anyone else at his back than his brother. But Reillan had duties here in Oba, and Varinia. He needed to hold down the fort while Keelthy, ( the life of the party), was away. He had also asked so much of his Brother previously (see the flight from Oba and crazed uncles chapter of his life, ) that another trek through the provinces might be asking a bit much. Especially when the goal was barbarously cold.
Judging from the feelings burbling up beneath his sternum he couldn't dawdle for too long, he felt an impending crash of Desolation, Longing and Brokeness. At a magnitude of which that warreated capitalization. Part of this made him realize exactly how weak he was, the other part didn't care and wanted to be on the road now. Fleade had a head start on him. Her spot on the bed had been cold so she had been gone for quite a while. Evidently she was a good sneaker, slipping out of the room and the building unbeknowst to all, or alternatively, he slept like a rock and was oblivious to all things once sleep claimed him.
He scrambled to pack a few supplies like food, and oban spices, yes after living a few months without them they were neccessary to life in the rest of tendaji. He shoved the note under Reillan's door, he knew his brother would understand. He took their janarim Xarnith and loped out of town. He knew he was supposed to go North, but beyond that he would have to navigate through maps and cities, he had never reached Zena, unless his memory failed him.
It took days of travel, but he eventually reached the northern territory and started to search for the woman who had taken some essential part of his soul with her. He shivered atop his mount who had not stopped grumbling for the last few leagues of travel. He was surprised that he hadn't over taken her but he wanted her to get to where she needed to be. If she stayed in one place it would be easier to find her.
Darkness was falling on his first day in Zena and he needed desperately to find lodging, or his mount was going to rebel on him. “I know its cold pal, don't worry, we will find a suitable stable in the near future.”
That was until the town didn't have a free spot. Apparently Inn's filled up faster in cold climates at night than in warm ones. He snarled and headed into the night looking for the next town. He had to settle on lighting a measly fire in a freezing cold cave and sleeping curled up next to a Janarim who's snore by the way could have been weaponized.
This was not a fun place, not that searing heat was much better but at least he knew what to do in searing heat, cold made it feel like his hands were going to fall off. The next morning he marched them right into the next in and booked two nights, he stuffed Xarthin in the stable under a pile of blankets until he looked like a mythical rug monster and himself he ordered a hot bath and a really good bed to sleep on. He would be more cautious with Zena in the future.
This was proof in stark life and death that Fleade's home was just as dangerous and unforgiving as his own in Oba was. This was a different kind of brutal, if you could find shelter from the sun in Oba and enough water you would be okay. Fire was essential to survival here and just as hard to conjure out of thin air as water was when you needed it. Its not like you could bite into a cactus up here and expect to find fire inside, if your wood was damp then you had best hope you had a fire spell up your sleeve.
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Posted: Thu Sep 22, 2016 8:24 pm
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Posted: Thu May 11, 2017 10:14 am
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