@AXISAwesome. Looks good. Accepted!
AppearanceSomeyo's petite 5'5" frame boasts a uniform tan and toned, straight limbs. A frame of onyx hair exaggerates her large, dark eyes and full eyebrows. While Someyo doesn't have a long face, her low cheekbones give an impression of triangular flatness, not unflattering. A slender jawline and full heart-shaped lips serve only to accentuate an overall delicate look.
Voice Gruff but light.
Skills Stealth 1 | Survival 1 | ---
QuirksEats roasted acorn butter with the pointed end of her dagger. Hops from one foot to another when bored. Repeats sounds, words, and phrases that interest her.
InterestsArchery, a good subterfuge, sheep, fruit, roasted acorn butter, an unsuspecting target, confidence, bravery, gold coin, convenience, warm water.
DisgustsReading, sappy altruism, goats, cowardice, greed, law, regulations & government, soldiers, dungeons, sympi, mormagi, guls, bats, beggars, nobility, affluence.
HistorySomeyo hails from the temperate meadows of southern Geigghehemor, where her father supported her mother and younger brother as a shepherd. Someyo's father called his flock the "silver sheep," on account of their lustrous gray wool. It was these sheep Someyo used to tussle with before her brother was old enough, then she'd wrassle him and they'd both tease the rams. In the dim yellow interior of their old cruck home, Someyo's mother taught her how to knit and sew and spin yarn or thread; her father demonstrated how to boil lambchops and grind them a side of piquant acorn butter. These are the days the footpad remembers the fondest.
Now, the silver sheep weren't just the pride and joy of their devoted shepherd, but the lord of the land, as well. When Someyo was a young teen preparing to marry off, the lord of the land visited her father's farm. The lord offered to purchase the flock of hardy gray sheep with his own flock of goats, which were double in count. Someyo's father was attached to his flock, though, and knew that even double the amount of goats couldn't pay as much as he typically sold the wool of his sheep for per skein--a fact Someyo recalls with brooding hatred. For, that was when her idyllic life took a sour turn.
Rejecting the lord's offer, Someyo's father gathered his offspring from the fields in the presence of his master. He had made counter offers, but none had been satisfactory, so a deal made there was not. The lord departed without threat, so everyone assumed that was that. Sir Danbe vol Cagme wasn't an unreasonable man, after all.
The end of that month, the month Sir Cagme visited, tragedy struck the fields. Someyo's father returned at breakfast clutching two limp lambs in his arms. It was the birthing season, but all their lambs and half their ewes had died overnight. The shepherd slammed the lambs over their table and cursed the lord--they'd been poisoned, of that he was certain. It seemed such a disgraceful act of vengeance to Someyo's father that he turned his back and fled out the door of their home to set the rest of the flock free. He had a substantial sum of money saved in a private location. They would need only to take it and purchase land for themselves to finally be free of subservience.
Someyo was skirting their last wool harvest when she saw the men ride up. An image as vividly remembered as when lived, she watched the sword of one of Sir Cagme's men at arms gleam in the sun, and fall to break flesh. She ran indoors of a fright, and warned her mother. When Sir Cagme appeared at the door, Someyo and her brother were hidden out back below a pile of clean wool. There was no sound. The lord and his men went riding into the woods, Someyo assumed to find the sheep, so she came out and entered the house. Someyo's mother dangled from the rafters, bound by the throat, conducting a frozen stare across the room. Such a face haunts her dreams.
Parentless, knowing now the danger, Someyo gathered her brother and fled after the sheep: into the southern bog. She didn't know why, but some part of her thought that if she could find them, they would find safety. They would save her. In her frenzied state she knew this, but they were gone. Someyo wandered with her brother through the muck, into wild countryside beyond, for days spanning longer than their hours. There is no home for lost children in the arms of the civilized, though. The two hamlets they came across shunned them like enemies, and so the siblings grew haggard, and desperate. They were hugging a wildwood road when a gaggle of affluent women appeared ahead, strolling beside their horses. Someyo, dragging her brother with heavy steps, knew what needed to be done. So sheltering her fading sibling in a maple thicket, she then left to commit her deed.
Someyo had never stolen from anyone before and didn't know how to go about it. From the gilded belt of one of these ladies, however, glinted the jeweled hilt of a blade. That, at least, she could sell. Someyo was crafty and stealthed the blade. She turned back but, on the way, examined her catch. A weapon. A tool. And that was when the connection was made and she returned to the unwitting women to claim greater reward. Her weak threats did not intimidate the three women. It was their utter lack of defense that got them, for the blade, an heirloom, had been the only defense given to them. They were young, almost as young as Someyo when she took their belongings. In her haste she only took their food, shoes, a single horse, and the holster for the blade. Then she returned to her brother.
But when Someyo stood beyond the maple thicket calling her brother's name, she stopped. The quiet forest air, the trapped stillness, was all she needed to know that there was no point going into the underbrush. Not wishing to fill her eyes with such an image again, she departed.
Someyo was not sad. She was angry. She did not sell her blade nor anything that she stole, but used them to rob the next passerby, and the one after him. As she had been taken from, why was she not allowed to take? Thus passed the next nine years, and though bounties called for her head, none found her. And though time has passed, the shadows in her heart have not. Someyo is a footpad, as fate, it seems, intended. And it is along the Pondr highway, in the tangles of the Herryway woods, that she may always seek silver sheep and prey on the monsters who took them.
|(head)||(shoulders)||Basic Leather Gauntlets|
|Basic Leather Gloves||Basic Leather Corset & White Blouse||(waist)|
|Worn Leather Holster||Basic Leather Greaves & Black Hosen||Basic Leather Boots|
|Mahogany Hair Pin||(accessory #2)||(accessory #3)|
|Worn Dagger||Old Short Bow||6x Fletched Arrows|
Tada! ^_^Name(s): true name is Daxterian Misfire
[PH1] Rabecca morstone
[PH2] Alaina Morian
[PH3] Alister Malking
Race or Species: Marospire
Sex: undefined (they/them pronouns)
Quirks: is a non physical being who uses the bodies of the dead preserving their life forces by feeding on the emotions of unsuspecting beings they encounter
Interests: connections with emotional sustainability. Sadness. Sustain. All things negative
Disgusts: happiness and free thinking.
History: Thousands of years ago in the small town of anacosta. A young boy was born with violet eyes and charcoal hair, his name, Daxterian Misfire. This young boys existance was an enigma. No-one believed he deserved to live. Young dax was viewed as a demon and murderer from his birth due to his genetic abnormal eyes, and the disposition of his mother's passing during his birth.
At a young age Dax showed signs of hyper intelligence and lack of emotion. In modern days we would treat this as psychopathy but young Dax didn't fair to be able to grow up in such a time as we do.
Ostracized by family and stranger alike the young boy would never make good with the inhabatance of this town. These treatments led to a change inside his child mind and he began plotting everyone's dimise.
13 years following the birth of young Dax he vanished into thin air and a few short months later others began to vanish only to be found weeks later deceased and in pieces. This happened for almost a year before suddenly it stopped as though almost nothing had changed. In the years following Dax hid and was all but forgotten until one day something happened.
4 years after the murders Dax suddenly appeared in town again but there was something different about him, something ominous. His eyes seemed lifeless and droll and he exhibited dangerous auras. The town was concerned and watched with hesitation as he walked to his family home. Sword strapped to his side he kicked in the door unsheathing the blade. His father was the first to go as he slaughtered his family one by one. Before turning on the town slaughtering all and reducing it to ash burning him self alive In the flame.
Dax awoke years later to complete darkness and a need to feed on the misfortune of others. He had become the ghost we now today refer to as Marospire. Marospire are typically just harmless gas eaters but his hateful nature had caused him to become something much more hostile, a mind eater.
Through the years Dax has existed as a gust of wind causing sadness everywhere he goes. Eventually he was able to hone his abilities as a Marospire and learned the art of possession. He gained possession of three humanoid corpses that he has continued to use for years to blend into society and feed unnoticed.
Many a year has past since the happenings of the life of Dax and the stories of the destruction of Anacosta have become that of myth and legend. Scary stories you tell children to make them behave, but believe you me. They are all to real and Dax is still out there hunting, hiding, stalking. Do you know who he is, or was? You might not, but you will.
Temperament Traits: open-minded. Creative. Impulsive. Generally disagreeable. Erratic.
Skills: possession. Hand to hand. Slight of hand. Stealth. Detection.