Blue Demon

Happily Ever After

So I wrote it in the style of a fairy tale since I had quite a bit to cover. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep the same tone. If we want we can compile a list of characters both our main and otherwise in the characters tab.

Happily Ever After

Once Upon a Time there was a girl named Javotte. She was the eldest of three children. The middle child was Meava. The youngest by far was Cinderella. When Chinderella was born Javotte was seven and Meava six. Not even Madame Dupont had expected herself capable of having any more children. The unexpected third child was more than the family could afford. For the Duponts were only minor royalty. Barely that at all. For their daughters to live a good life they were expected to marry above their station. And quickly or else. All the Duponts could do was to establish a sizable dowry so their girls might have a chance to marry into a richer family. Unfortunately for the unexpected third, there was no money left over by the time she was born. To make her a dowry money would have to be found from the two established dowries. Which would make sure none of the girls even got married by the right sort of men. And by that it would be a wealthy man. So Madam Dupont wasted nothing upon the new daughter. Instead she passed her off to one of the servants and did her best to wash her hands of poor Cinderella. Sir Dupont, wishing only the best for her children agreed it was far better to save the two eldest than to condemn all three to a life of misery. And so the Dupont scrapped a living out, waiting for suitors for their daughters. Yet day after day no one expressed any interest in the ladies, despite their sizable dowries. By the time Javotte was twelve, Madam Dupont was besides herself. She began to suffer foul mood that no one could bring her out of. Sir Dupont, unable to withstand his wife's mercurial moods went on extended tours to far off places leaving his daughters unprotected. With the absence of her husband, Madam Dupont grew worse. There were far more foul tempers than good. Javotte, the eldest tried her best to shield her sisters from her mother's wrath. Meava, the middle child was the worse affected. She found that by taking her mother's side she was spared the worst. And so Meava herself began changing into something cruel and harsh to her sisters. Javotte found the more she shielded Cinderella the worse it was for the youngest. But if she pretended that Cinderella didn't exist, the worst never quite came out. Sure the girl had to do unforgiving chores, but she was never physically harmed. It was a terrible price that Javotte paid to try and hold her family together. Something the fates seemed to mock because the harder she tried to make sure Meava didn't turn into terrible lady, the worse she became. Cinderella began to hate Javotte and Meava more than anything else. Even the servants took her side and turned their back upon her. And so it was that by her fifteenth year Javotte was alone. She had no one and she despaired. By her sixteenth year Javotte fell into a deep apathy which allowed her to be cruel like unto her mother and sister. By the time Cinderella was fifteen, Javotte twenty-two and still unwed. Her manner along with her family's was off putting to any potential suitor. At the age of twenty-three Madam Dupont received an invitation to the King's Ball. By this time Javotte said nothing when Cinderella was promptly and cruelly denied the chance to go. For her spirit had long since died. After the ball and the disappearance of the most beautiful lady there, her mother and sister were in an uproar. Madam Dupont hatched a scheme to get at least one of her two daughters wed, Cinderella had long ceased to be her blood. When Madam Dupont handed Javotte the knife to cut her heel off in order to fit into the glass slipper, the girl didn't object. The pain was terrible, but so had her life been such. Indeed, a part of her wished the deception to work for it would take her far away from her family. Barely daring to hope she went before the Prince, only to be found out because she continued to bleed. Javotte fled in tears and didn't remain to see her youngest sister get saved by the Prince. When the invitation came from their youngest sister to the wedding, the entire family went. Javotte had no idea what her littlest sister had in store for her life long tormentors. As the marriage carriage sailed down the street, Cinderella's fairy godmother granted her one last wish. Cinderella used it to punish her mother and sisters. Doves dive bombed the women, clawing and pecking at them until their eyes were gouged out. After that they were very much forgotten in Cinderella's tale of Happily Ever After. Javotte's sister died shortly after. Was it from shame, or blood loss, she never knew. Her mother's death was much more obvious. She killed herself in despair. Javotte cared too little to end her own life, nor to crawl away like a wounded animal and die. Sir Dupont took upon himself to make Javotte whole, or as whole as an eyeless scarred girl could be. Still, he wasted money away trying to find anyone who could reverse the damage. The money ran out before long. Javotte knew her father went to Cinderella to beg her for money. Javotte also knew they never got any. By the time Javotte was twenty five, she was quite accustomed to her blindness. Able to move about with ease. Even her butchered heels troubled her no more. It was that year something changed in her. One day when she was out at market with the last servant. Javotte stood as she always did, with a cloth wrapped around her empty eyes, slightly to the side of the road and out of the way, waiting. She rubbed the top of her walking cane as she listened to the sound around her. When quite unexpectedly someone pulled her cane away from her. Javotte cried out but none paid her any attention. They all knew who she was. Yet one wrinkled hand laid itself upon her arm. "Fret not." An old woman's voice instructed. "Here, you can have mine." "I could not." Javotte protested, yet the came was trust firmly into her hands and she couldn't find the old woman to return it. She asked the servant if she had seen an old lady but the woman had not. She could not ask anyone else for they all ignored her. All the way home Javotte felt the cane. It had a dove perched on the stick. The first emotion Javotte felt in a long time was anger. Anger at why someone would do that to her. Anger that hadn't she suffered enough? Yet the more she pondered it, Javotte changed. She embraced the change and feelings that she had so long denied. That night she wept for who she was and for her sisters. And yes, even her parent. The next morning Javotte announced she was going to visit Cinderella. Her father tried to talk her out of it, but Javotte insisted. So it was that morning that Javotte and her father secured audience with the Princess Cinderella. The girl the whole kingdom loved. Yet when she arrived she found the castle in a great state of disarray. People bustled everywhere and no one quite noticed her. "What is wrong?" Her father asked someone, for his voice was not directed at Javotte. A male voice answered that Sir Dupont needed to leave. At that point Javotte turned her finely tuned senses to what everyone else was saying. Cinderella was missing. Javotte let her father lead her away from the castle back to their crumbling home. When night fell Javotte went into the garden and cried for Cinderella's Fairy Godmother. She didn't think the fairy would answer but she had to try. Cinderella was important to her, if only so Javotte could finish moving on. "Javotte." The voice of the Fairy Godmother wasn't one she had heard before, but she knew it all the same. "Have you heard?" The woman asked. "I have." The Fairy concluded. "And I cannot find her." Javotte frowned. "You cannot? Is she dead then?" "Nay." The fairy cried adamantly. "But she is beyond me all the same." "Do not speak in riddles." Javotte chided. "Speak plainly so that I may understand." "I fear Cinderella is not in this world anymore." Javotte was about to get angry at this, for how was this plain speak. But the Fairy continued. "She is gone into a different one. I cannot follow her, for while she is not dead, she is beyond my magic." And so the Fairy explained to Javotte the concept of the worlds and of Fairy Tales. After the Fairy was finished Javotte spoke. "Then I will go after her." "But why?" The Fairy Godmother asked. "For she is my sister. And nothing can change that. I failed her once, I will not do so again." Plus, Javotte added silently, I need to tell her something. "Very well. I have but the power to send you to the next world. It is only something I can do once and only once. Once in the next world the task to finding where Cinderella is, is up to you." "I'm ready." Javotte said clutching the dove walking stick. Surely if she had her eyes with which to see the world would have changed about her. Yet the only difference came through her other senses. Suddenly it was sunny. The ground her underneath her slippered feet was hard like stone. The wind came from another direction and brought with it strange scents. "Hello?" Javotte called out. "Anyone there?"

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

@klaudus Favrin could use a loyal man. Being racially diverse would be fine too (because he did travel about the Kingdom in his youth). Though you'd be a servant.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Baron Favrin didn't lounge, but it was the closest he would ever be. He propped his feet upon his desk as he stared up at the lofty ceiling. A letter was tossed carelessly upon the ground, crumpled and quite torn. From Favrin's left hand a bottle of spirits dangled, empty. A cowed servant huddled near the door, not daring to be fully in the room but in fear of actually leaving. Another two servants waited outside the door, ready to spring into any action required of them. The whole household was silent. No one dared utter a word over a whisper. The only soul who dared Favrin's wrath was his mother. Of course she had retired hours ago to mourn in her own way. For usually a letter from Favrin's son Corbin was a joyous thing. For all of the house shared Favrin's fears that his eldest son would die in battle and each letter was a sure sign of life. It was when the letters stopped arriving that grief would be upon them. So none had suspected when the letter showed what grief would follow. So far none but the Elder Dutchess and the Baron knew what was the cause. But the servants could guess. Someone died. Not Corbin, since he penned the letter. Was it one of the nephews or worse? The brother, the Duke? For it couldn't be the King. Such a matter of vital importance couldn't have been carried over by a lowly Knight, no matter that he might be a Baron one day. When the second missive arrived by the Duke's Black Crows, the servants stepped even lighter. The new letter was delivered by trembling hands to the Baron. He took it, read over it, dismissed all servants. He didn't emerge until the next day. Favrin had aged years in those few hours. New lines crossed his face and his hair looked even more grey than it had been. "Prepare my horse!" Favron shouted. "Fetch a bath, prepare my riding things!" Servants parted in his wake. People scurried this way and that. Each intent on their task. Their master was going. They had to make ready. Everyone knew their dance and they were efficient. By the time the Baron was dressed and ready, so were they. The servants prided themselves on anticipating his every need. Five men were ready to ride. Each one chosen because of their loyalty, and because if their master needed defending, they'd do it. They all sensed the coming turmoil. Rapid change was never good in the Whitelands. The Baron and his entourage arrived at the Duke's castle. Favrin tossed off his riding cloak, letting it fall to the ground. He made it off his stallion before his first servant was able to rush over and assist him. He ran a hand over his wind mussed hair. His long strides ate the ground and men moved to let him passed. Everyone knew what he was here for. His first stop was to see Joakim, his nephew, the Lord Regent. Without any fanfare he dropped to his knee and pledged his loyalty. He'd do it once again with everyone to see, but for now this would do. "My nephew. My Sword, my Honor, and my Life are yours." Favrin briefly thought that he was too old to be kneeling on stone, but he didn't rise until released. "I am ever at your disposal." The Baron's next stop was to comfort his sister-in-law, the still beautiful Catryn, even marred by grief. Together the two mourned for a man they both loved. It made it clear he was there for not only the Dutchess, but for Joakim too. The week passed excruciatingly slow. Yet the day the rulers assembled under the duke's halls passed far too quickly. Favrin had chosen his best court clothes and stood attendance near Joakim. But not too near. Joakim had to do this himself. Favrin wouldn't weaken his nephew's rule. So it was when the boy struggled he stood impassively, despite some of the looks the other Baron and Marquis gave him. Why do you not support your family? The looks demanded. Yet Favrin stood immovable. Only once did he move. It was only once, and no one noticed for they were all staring at Joakim as he delivered news of the death of the Duke. Favrin had looked up breifly in askance of God? Or to keep tears at bay? When it came time to swear oaths Favrin was second after Lord Erik, Lord bless the man. "I so swear." Favrin saluted his nephew and hoped the boy knew he was proud of him. And that his father must be too in Heaven. Then came the dire news. He cast his eyes over the assembled men and marked those who weren't surprised by the news. For Favrin was not the only many with ears in far off places. Nor even the only one watching the every move of the Lord Regent, as he now was. Still Favrin inhaled sharply. The men around him began to began to talk over one another. Some angry, some afraid. They clumped together as soon as it was obvious that Joakim would not add anything more to his dire speech. Favrin listened as the men talked around him. A few looked over at him, but none readily approached him yet. He had sworn allegiance, but some suspected duplicity. Men however approached Joakim to talk to him. Most were still unhappy as they walked away. But trust would come with time. Time though, they might not have. With the new news of Northermoat being captured the mood turned decidedly unpleasant. Yet, if Favrin had to judge, most, if not all in the hall at the moment would stand with the Lord Regent. But that would change upon Lord Perris of Harrighfield's arrival. Slowly the men trickled out of the hall. Favrin lingered waiting to be alone with his nephew. It was nice that the nephew desired the same of him. Uncle, I feel like it might be worthwile to have you come with me to Northermoat. Please join me and ser Volkov. "Of course my Lord." Favrin bowed to his nephew. Then was dismissed. Favrin didn't begrudge the boy his space. There would be enough time to talk upon horseback. Out of the hall he motioned his man and sent him off. They weren't quite prepared for this, but they adapted quickly. By the time Favrin reached the stables, his horse was ready and so was he properly attired for riding. In his bags was no doubt his armour and his men's also. They might not have planned to ride off to battle, but they had planned.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

*Raises Hand* I don't do skype. :D

DC Universe: Age of Heroes (Dead)

(This is not a double post)

The ocean was calming on Diana's thoughts. The soft sounds of the water eased her muscles. She had rowed a small boat out into the shipping lanes and was now hitching a ride on a large cargo boat. The wooden boat she had used was long gone but that was no problem. She was on her way to wherever this ship was going. She pillowed her cape under her head and curled up to sleep on the hard steel. Over the course of two days Diana stayed on the ship. On the third she was able to see land. She had wedged herself between two steel boxes to wait until the ship made port. While she waited she nibbled on her rations and dreamed of what the land must look like. As the ship neared it's destination sounds of life could be heard. Drawn by those sounds the young woman left her hiding place and looked over the side of the ship. The port was huge, capable of holding many ships, many the size of the behemoth she was on. Diana couldn't help but gape at the sight. Reading about it in a book was one thing, to see it herself was like magic. After the ship came to a stop Diana slipped over the side. Her boots making barely a sound on the hard concrete. Her leather skirt flapped but no one looked at her. She wrapped her cape around her as she hurried off, not wanting to be caught by the men who wandered this port. The warnings of her sisters still remained with her. When in a hostile land, it was best to gather information first. This land surely counted. It took a while for Diana to find the exit from the port. It's huge maze of steel boxes had confused her for a while, but she eventually followed what looked like a river inland. The further she went the less concrete there was and the more greenery. She crossed over a set of metal railings, train tracks if her lessons were correct, and into a wooded area. She continued to follow the river as it narrowed and turned back upon itself. Eventually she came across a road and she paused as cars rushed by. She could hear children laughing from a ways away and hesitated on which way she should go. Should she follow the road or river? As she thought one of the passing cars honked at her. She jumped a little surprised at the sound, her hand going to her sword. Driving it was a man. She stared as he drove by. A man! She had finally seen her first man up close. And he didn't look as terrible as her sisters had said. He even whistled at her. Eventually Diana decided it was best to not try to cross the street to continue to follow the river. So she followed the road north, in the same direction she had been going. Before she had gone a few yards another car drove by. But this one slowed and stopped. A guy leaned out the window and looked at her. "Got lost going to a party?" He laughed. "Or did you get lost going to comic-con?" Diana tilted her head. "I am not going to a party." She said in English, though haltingly. He had spoken rather quickly and she wasn't sure she had heard him right. "And I'm not lost." For one had to know where they were going to be lost. Having no destination in mind, she was incapable of being lost. The guy blinked at her then shrugged. "Well, need a lift? I'm heading into town." Diana thought through what he was saying, trying to get used to the slang that she didn't learn. "I'm Navy." He pointed out. "I'm not going to anything to you." Diana walked closer. "I doubt you could do anything I didn't want you to." She agreed. He wasn't a warrior like she was. "So, Want a ride or not?" Diana, seeing no reason to say no agreed and got into the car. "So, where to?" He asked. From her new view point she could see the clothes he was wearing seemed very much like a uniform. Navy, that would put her in the United States wouldn't it? "Depends." Diana said trying out more of her English. "Where are we?" The guy laughed then sobered. "You're serious. Shit. Well that back there was Dundalk Marine Port." He frowned. "Do you need anything?" It was Diana's turn to frown. And so the two went back and forth. Until she confessed that she wasn't from the U.S. (as he called it). And yes, this was her first day here. He seemed to relax, satisfied she was a foreigner, and dropped her off at a hotel and giving her his number to call him if she needed any help. And also with the advice to get some different clothes. She gazed down at the name as he drove off. Steve Trevor. Diana smiled to herself and set off to get a room and explore this "Baltimore". She spent a good two days exploring the city, getting used to it's strange sites and people. Most people stared at her armor, but after the first day she had changed it out for clothing similar to what other women were wearing. Namely a t-shirt and blue jeans. Though she still carried her sword and wore her tiara. It was that reason on the third day that she had her first brush with the law. As she walked down a street she heard people scream. Diana didn't hesitate as she ran toward the sound. A lone man had a gun and was pointing it at an obviously scared woman. Diana knew what a gun was from TV only, but she had seen what it could do. Diana moved so his back was to her as the police arrived. They began to talking to the man as she pulled off her tiara. She tested it's balance as the man screamed about what a terrible woman his hostage was. Then she tossed it at the gun. The tiara and gun collided. In shock the man dropped the gun and the tiara came back to Diana. Everyone just stared at Diana for two long heartbeats. Then two of the cops noticed her sword. They shouted at her to drop her weapons. "I have done nothing wrong." Diana pointed out even as they raised their guns at her. "I fail to see why I must drop my sword as you say. It was that man who was going to harm that woman." "Lady, just drop the weapon." One of the cops insisted. "No." Diana said shifting her stance in light of the man's hostility. Out of her peripheral vision Diana could see people pull out their phones and point them in her direction. "Last warning lady. Drop the weapon." "No." Diana said firmly. She was about to continue when one of the men opened fire. It wasn't a gun like she had expected, as a metal barb rebounded off her bracer she realized it was a taser. She reflected a second and pulled one out of her leg. "I haven't brought you harm." Diana said letting the barb drop. One of the cops raised a true gun, for she recognized the difference. "Get on the ground or we will shot you." Another commanded. Diana shook her head. The men took that as a refusal and opened fire. She deflected two bullets before she moved with her enhanced reflexes and dashed forward. She was upon the cop with a gun before he realized it and punched him in the face. She lashed out at the man standing next to him, dropping him to the floor. She defected another bullet then slammed her elbow into the third cop's face. Silence descended as the three cops lay at her feet. Someone behind her swore. Agreed. Diana mentally thought.

DC Universe: Age of Heroes (Dead)

If you say so. I have to get my next set up before the world event. :) So it all works out I guess.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Count Favrin Weade

Count Favrin Weade Duty, Honor, Country

Full name: Lord Uncle Count Favrin Halldon Weade Titles: Count. Also called Lord Uncle in some cases for he is Uncle to the Lord Regent. Social rank: Royalty. Uncle to the Regent. Societal position: Count Favrin rules over a small town, Roansville, about a ride's distance away from the Keep. Age: 47 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Baron Favrin is a stern man to all who know him. He rarely speaks unless he had something to say. He thinks before he speaks or acts. He is very loyal to Whitelands and would do anything for the demesne. After the death of his brother Rikard, Favrin has because even more reticent and some whisper that he'll eventually turn into a recluse. For all his fallibles, Favrin likes to enjoy life. Usually with his wife behind closed doors or riding across the country side on his horse. History: Favrin was born two years after Rikard. The two were close brothers. Favrin always did whatever his elder brother did. They resented each other, but the two stayed close friends. For while Rikard would be Duke, Favrin would be free to pursue what truly made him happy. When the two boys were teens they pursued the same noble woman, Catryn, niece to the former Queen of Borhilon, one of the most beautiful women in the demesne. But Catryn choose Rikard over Favrin. The two had a large falling out over the event. It wasn't until Favrin was in his early twenties that he sought to repair their relationship at the urging of their ailing father. Shortly after their father died the two became friends again. Favrin set up his mother on his lands at Roansville. The town was noted for the beautiful roan trees and the crafts men were hailed across Borhilon. When Favrin was entering his Thirties, much to the joy of his mother, he finally married Baroness, now Countess, Vivian Athos. Vivian is a distant relation to the Athos' in the Falkhalls. They meet when Favrin was travelling the lands of the Kingdom. Vivian and Favrin had two sons. Both are in their early twenties now. One, Corbin, is with the Heir serving under the King. The other, Davin, is currently visiting with his mother her family in the Falkhalls. Skills: Favrin is a skilled woodsman, hunter, politician, and warrior. Dreams and fears: Favin has many dreams. Most of all he dreams of travelling Borhilon again before he grows too old. He dreams of grandchildren. He wants a stable land where his children can grow up safe and secure. He fears that the civil unrest will cause hardship to fall upon his family, both immediate and on his nephews. He also fears his aging mother will soon die. He fears his eldest son will die in battle so far from home. Favored equipment: Weapons are: a long bow, and a bastard sword, and more often a pen and a carefully placed word. Extra: See The Weade's Coat of Arms.

Countess Vivian Weade

Vivian Athos Weade All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name

Full name: Vivian Athos Weade Titles: Countess Social rank: Noble Job or societal position: Countess (She has no Job) Age: 36 Gender: Female Appearance: Personality: The Countess is a romantic at heart. She grew up wanting to marry a prince and live happily ever after. However, being a daughter of a minor noble meant that would never happen. Not only that, she was the second daughter. Any dreams she had of a perfect happily ever after would never happen. As Vivian aged she learned how to deal with disappointment. Her elder sister was married off at the age of seventeen to a man thrice her age. Vivian, knowing it was her turn next, knew she would never find love. So it was even more a surprise to her when Favrin came to visit their part of the land. Vivian was fourteen at the time and Favrin was twenty four. Yet the two found each other. To Vivian he was a beautiful knight come to whisk her away. She loved to hear him talk of his home back in the north. After a few weeks Favrin left, but he promised to return the next year and wed her when she was come of age. When he returned he did indeed marry her and he took her to his home. Abet slowly, for the two toured the vast lands of the Kingdom. They even stayed in the capital for a spell. By the time the two made it to Roansoak Vivian was showing with her first child. As soon as he was born she knew he'd be a soldier like his father. His younger brother, Davin, however was a more sedate child. Though the second pregnancy was very hard on her and they decided not to have anymore children, just to be on the safe side. Skills: Sewing, Embroidery, Reading and Writing and managing a household. Dreams and fears: Vivian dreams mainly of grandchildren. She keeps shoving eligible women towards her sons. Vivian fears Favrin and Corbin dying in battle. Favored equipment: None Extra: None

Corbin Weade

Corbin Weade Determination is Power

Full name: Corbin Favrin Weade Titles: None yet Social rank: Noble Job or societal position: Soldier/ Captain Age: 21 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Corbin is a fierce individual. He has very strong opinions and rarely hesitates to tell other people. The only people he watches his mouth around is his father, mother, and the Duke (or now Gregar for the time being.) He strongly believes in the right to rule through arms and strength. He one day hopes to help the overthrow the Ironhills and become the Duke there. While growing up Corbin got into loads of trouble, often dragging in his little brother too. The two didn't often get along, but then they did they were little hellions. Corbin always knew he wanted to be a warrior like his father. As soon as he was able to hold a sword his father began training him. He feels that he's one of the best swordsmen around and doesn't hesitate to fight people stronger than him to prove it. Corbin isn't as loyal as his father to the Duke's line. However his ambition isn't set upon the Whitelands, but further south. He actually hopes the King might one day recognize him and give unto him one of the King's daughters. And the title of Duke of course. Skills: Fighting, brawling, drinking and "sporting". Dreams and fears: Corbin dreams of being a Duke and a very important man to the King. He fears old age. Favored equipment:A long sword. His horse and his dagger. Extra: See The Weade's Coat of Arms

Davin Weade

Davin Athos Weade To know what you know and what you do not know, that is true knowledge

Full name: Davin Athos Weade Titles: None Social rank: Noble Job or societal position: Age: 19 Gender: Male Appearance: Personality: Skills: Dreams and fears: Favored equipment: Extra:

Gabbi Ann

Gabbi Ann There are no shortcuts to any place worth going. Credit goes to Danaiktti

Full name: Gabbi Ann (No last name. See History for explination) Titles: "Hey you" "Girl" Social rank: Peasant Job: Servant/ Cleaning Girl, Spy for Duke Favrin Age: 19 Gender: Female Appearance: Gabbi is of average height. She has long dirty blond hair and light brown eyes. Personality: Gabbi is a very simple girl. She was raised in Baron's Favrin's home as a serving girl. When she was still young he recommended her to the Keep. She's a studious worker and tries very hard to please her masters. Most of the time she keeps her head down and says nothing. A very good skill as no one tends to notice her. History: Gabbi was found abandoned by one of the servants at Roansville. They were going to pass her off to the church but instead she was taken in by the cook, Lucinda, who had just miscarried. She raised the girl like her own. Gabbi however was never allowed to take Lucinda's name. She had to live with the stigma of being unwanted. This contributed to her inability to deal with people. When she was barely a young girl the Baroness noticed her. Gabbi had been cleaning when the Baron and Baroness had made everyone leave the room, and Gabbi had failed to escape in time. Gabbi ended up hiding, so she wouldn't get spotted and beaten. Taking pity on the girl, the Baroness said nothing, but kept an eye on her. Eventually she brought Gabbi to her Husband's attention. The two agreed that she was quite unnoticeable. After that the Baroness devised a series of tests for the girl to test her intelligence, or at least her capacity for remembrance. Gabbi passed with flying colors. The Baron decided to plant her in his brother's household to keep and eye on things. There she has been ever since, working as a cleaning girl. Once a month she passes along what she learned to the Baron. Otherwise she just keeps to herself. Skills: Gabbi is very good at cleaning. She is also good at not being noticed and listening in to "hushed" conversations. She isn't very good at speaking and interacting with people. Dreams and fears: Gabbi dreams of one day being the Lady's Maid in Waiting. Gabbi fears that people will talk to her and she must talk back. Taking orders are one thing, it's quite another to make small talk. She's okay with Favrin because she just has to repeat back what she's heard, not really think for herself. Favored equipment: Bucket of water and a rag. Extra: None

DC Universe: Age of Heroes (Dead)

Everyone's so quiet now. *listens to the crickets*

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Well, I got the Baron all sorted. Let me know if there's something you don't like. Still working on Gabbi. Annnd done with Gabbi too.