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It began in the summer of the sixteenth year of the rule Alesand’r of Clan Quohog, Twelfth of Elona and first of House Tamarus.

The great sages, K’Ehelyr of Okaara and Ganthet of Oa, recorded that it was on the 43rd day of Maktag when the fire first appeared in the skies over Tamaran. It was the start of what all the nearby stars would come to know as the Citadel War -- an aggressive push by the Citadel Star Empire for interstellar dominion. The heavens beckoned the Tamaraneans to answer a call to arms, and their warrior culture responded in kind. Since the time of the first High Kings, the advance of the Citadel was halted against the immovable spirit of the Tamaranean people.

And the heart of Tamaran caused great changes in the cultures of their neighbors. The once peaceful planets of Okaara and Euphorix adapted to ensure the survival of their societies, and the first Council of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds was formed. Where once Okaara had fostered men of great learning in the Grand Viziers, now it became feared for the shrewd, unmatched strategy of those who would be called Warlords. Euphorix, prized for its engineers, harnessed its knowledge of energy to great impenetrable shields that secured their world and those of their allies.

And so the war lingered on, day by day, year by year, decade by decade. Neither side yielding, as the Citadel consolidated its power throughout the Vega Galaxy. From beyond the edge of their stars, the Guardians of the Universe moved to contain the malevolent ambition of the Citadel to within its own galaxy, restricting the Citadel’s reach while also limiting the ability of Tamaran, Okaara, or Euphorix to receive aid.

So has it been for more than one hundred years.

...until today.


- excerpt from the memoirs of Shaka, "When the Walls Fell."


T H E D E C O N S T R U C T I O N O F F A L L I N G S T A R S
P A R T I

T H E M I L K Y W A Y G A L A X Y

Space Sector 2814 | The Sol System

The ship blinked into existence.

Exiting out from the jump point, the small vessel listed to one side as it careened wildly through the unfamiliar star system it had just entered.

Inside the cockpit, a golden child struggled to breath through acrid smoke that was clouding the interior. An unkempt mass of fiery red hair framed his youthful features, and the term fiery was used advisedly -- as shimmering and flickering flames seemed to spark within the thick mane of hair. His eyes were as gleaming emeralds, entirely green with no visible sclera.

Flashing in the heads-up display, two larger vessels appeared in the space behind him. Lights ignited the heavens, as bolts of plasma sailed over the canopy. The ship bucked and rocked, pitching the lad from out of his seat as the vessel was assaulted.

The boy’s left hand dialed in a series of commands to the vessel’s navigation. A series of red markers, however, gave notice that the ship’s engines would not support another jump. He had exhausted his resources in the fleeting leap that had brought him here.

...where ever here was.

So, instead, the boy began looking for alternatives. There were eight planets in this star system, two of which were gas giants and one of which had a substantial debris field encircling it.

Angling the ship toward the epistellar jovian, the child did his best to hold course as the ship struggled against his hand, and the repeated harassment of the larger vessels was certainly not helping to smooth the passage.

As chunks of ice and rock began to become more thickly present, that difference in size started to work to his advantage. Weaving among the particles and debris, the boy managed to maneuver a small lead over the attacking vessels.

Pushing the engines for what they might yet yield, the boy sped toward the middle of the star system. An internal debris disk offered a wealth of asteroids, both massive and miniscule. If he could find a cave or shelter, or even just find a place to land and power down, then his pursuit might well mistake him for the rock.

He had barely made it half the distance, when they caught up with him again. Red bolts of plasma lanced into the side of the ship, sending the vessel into a slide that the boy could not repair. So, instead, the youth threw the helm over.

The small vessel seemed to shudder, bucking against the rudder even as it turned back upon its course. As it did, it collided with the closest of its pursuers. In the impact, both vessels were engulfed in a plume of flame as their reactors briefly flared into miniature novas... and were quickly extinguished by the vacuum of space.

And, from out of that cold, endless dark, a green spark ignited.

Enveloped in emerald flame, the child flew through the stars under his own power. The flames burning from off his head seemed to lengthen, forming a brilliant contrail as he pushed onward toward one of the asteroids.

Slipping under and behind the first, the child looked for a second to duck away to, before the enemy ship re-positioned to try and re-acquire him.

A sharp, burning sensation was piercing beneath his breast. A hand pressed to his chest, as he tried to quell the pain. The smoke inside the cabin of his stolen transport had not given him the opportunity to prepare for exposure to vacuum.

Turning his hand over, the jewel atop the gauntlet that he wore around his wrist glowed faintly. The fourth planet from the sun was closest to this orbital axis, but the measurements indicated that its atmosphere was too thin to have offered any respite. The third and second planets, however, were showing indications of a more substantial atmosphere.

Slipping between another pair of asteroids, the flaming haired nymph risked the briefest survey for signs of the enemy, before he launched in a dead sprint across the endless night for the faint blue-green light that might be his only hope.

The burning in his chest was gnawing at him. The veins in his head and neck became prominent as the body began to lapse into the grip of suffocation. His vision was blurred, even as he felt himself colliding with a powerful radiation source. Green flame spiraled from off his body, as the energy he absorbed began leaking through every pour. He would have screamed in pain, if he had so much as a single breath left him.

He knew not whether the world below was paradise or poison, but as the child descended upon its atmosphere, he felt his consciousness slipping away even as he succumbed to the harsh embrace of its gravity...

[ theme ]

"I'll rent a chocobo to pull this along, and everyone can get into a carriage--we go straight to the Goblet!"

The young Padjal inclined his head slightly. Picking up the shepherd's crook, the horned child had a confused look on his face as he uttered, "We're going straight to a cup?" Seriously, goblet? Had he heard that right? What did goblets or saucers or even full-sized dinner plates have to do with Free Companies or adventurer housing?

Following along with the others, the Padjal at first sat in the carriage... though as the ride progressed, the boy started looking back over his shoulder. Then craning his head to try and see over the side of the carriage. Then finally stood on his knees, with his body leaning over the railing so that he could look and see all the things.

He could see the housing district up ahead.

It did not, in fact, resemble a goblet in any way. In his opinion anyway. Just who was in charge of naming these things? At least Lavender Beds had actual lavender flowers... or so he was told, anyway.

Peering out from the opposite side from how Lyveva was facing, the boy hadn't seen whatever had caught the woman's attention. But when she had hoped out and said that it was because of a boy, the woman had his attention. Bounding from off the bench on the carriage, the small White Mage leapt down with a renewed sense of energy and purpose.

"I was just about the ask if there were any children here," the Seedseer chimed, somewhat wistfully. "I'd rather like to meet one," he added pensively. It was rather difficult to meet any kids his age in Gridania. For one, the Seedseer Council was forever occupying his time with studying, or meditation, or more studying. And, two, the presence of the Woodwailers discouraged pretty much anyone from getting too close to one of the Hearers. It made it difficult to even have a conversation with someone. Particularly someone without horns on their head.

"...for purely professional reasons, of course," the Padjal added, as his eyes darted off to the left for a moment.

Children needed healers from time to time after all.

Not for any other reason.

...were there trees? How did one build a proper fort in a desert such as this?
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
W I L D F I R E

R Y A N D ' R O F T A M A R A N E X I L E M E T R O P O L I S I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am stronger than I look."

Ryand'r of Tamaran is the youngest of three siblings and the only son of King Myand'r of Tamaran and his queen, Luand'r. According to Tamaranean law, he is currently second in the line of royal succession, after his sister, Koriand'r. This is due to the fact that their eldest sibling, Komand'r, was deemed unfit to rule. Like all royalty of Tamaran, Ryand'r was sent to the Warlords of Okaara for education off-world and thus experienced a Spartan-esque childhood.

During the Citadel War, in which Komand'r led the Citadel Empire against her people, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were both captured and handed over to the Psions for experimentation. When loyalists attacked the ship ferrying them, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were able to escape, but were separated in the attempt. Ryand'r crashed on an alien world that was unknown to him, pursued by the Psions.

This world is not his home, but it is safety for the time being.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Ryand'r is an alien to Earth, allowing me a good POV for exploring the mutant fear and including social justice commentary in an otherwise action-adventure storyline. As far as goals, I realized that I had written myself into quite a sandbox and so this character is an attempt at interacting more, by building in connections to other characters (such as @Inkarnate's Supergirl and @Byrd Man's Green Lanterns).

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

THE GOOD
Al-x. A Green Lantern cadet learning the ropes.

Sammy Pare. One of the so-called "Morlocks" living underneath Metropolis.

Micah Flint (Rock). A mutated astronaut.

THE BAD
Albert Michaels. An irradiated S.T.A.R. Labs scientist now known as the Atomic Skull.

Reggie Meyer. A young mutant with the ability to create duplicates of himself, shared with a hive mind. The strength of his clones multiplies based on the number of clones that he creates.

Worldkiller.exe. A Kryptonian artifact uncovered beneath the melting permafrost of the Arctic.

THE UGLY
Suicide Slums. The last refuge of the homeless and destitute, where crime is rampant, police presence is minimal, and life is cheap. M-Town can be found here, one of the only places where mutants may find landlords willing to rent to them. At least the ones that can pass as human. It's rumored that underneath the Suicide Slums, those poor souls too inhuman to walk among society hide in the shadows...

P O S T C A T A L O G:

CHAPTER 1: THE DECONSTRUCTION OF FALLING STARS
Since its been awhile since we spammed the OOC thread, I just want to say here that all talls deserve to be bopped.

Sincerely,
The Smols.
I just want to point out that only one of these apps is flying Lord Superboy colors.

Choose right. Choose Lord Superboy.

Paid for by the Committee to Elect Lord Superboy.
Someone tell me "yes."


Fix'd
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
W I L D F I R E

R Y A N D ' R O F T A M A R A N E X I L E M E T R O P O L I S I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am stronger than I look."

Ryand'r of Tamaran is the youngest of three siblings and the only son of King Mythus of Tamaran and his queen, Luand'r. According to Tamaranean law, he is currently second in the line of royal succession, after his sister, Koriand'r. This is due to the fact that their eldest sibling, Komand'r, was deemed unfit to rule. Like all royalty of Tamaran, Ryand'r was sent to the Warlords of Okaara for education off-world and thus experienced a Spartan-esque childhood.

During the Citadel War, in which Komand'r led the Citadel Empire against her people, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were both captured and handed over to the Psions for experimentation. When loyalists attacked the ship ferrying them, Ryand'r and Koriand'r were able to escape, but were separated in the attempt. Ryand'r crashed on an alien world that was unknown to him, pursued by the Psions.

This world is not his home, but it is safety for the time being.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Ryand'r is an alien to Earth, allowing me a good POV for exploring the mutant fear and including social justice commentary in an otherwise action-adventure storyline. As far as goals, I realized that I had written myself into quite a sandbox and so this character is an attempt at interacting more, by building in connections to other characters (such as @Inkarnate's Supergirl and @Byrd Man's Green Lanterns).

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

THE GOOD
Al-x. A Green Lantern cadet learning the ropes.

Sammy Pare. One of the so-called "Morlocks" living underneath Metropolis.

Micah Flint (Rock). A mutated astronaut.

THE BAD
Albert Michaels. An irradiated S.T.A.R. Labs scientist now known as the Atomic Skull.

Reggie Meyer. A young mutant with the ability to create duplicates of himself, shared with a hive mind. The strength of his clones multiplies based on the number of clones that he creates.

Worldkiller.exe. A Kryptonian artifact uncovered beneath the melting permafrost of the Arctic.

THE UGLY
Suicide Slums. The last refuge of the homeless and destitute, where crime is rampant, police presence is minimal, and life is cheap. M-Town can be found here, one of the only places where mutants may find landlords willing to rent to them. At least the ones that can pass as human. It's rumored that underneath the Suicide Slums, those poor souls too inhuman to walk among society hide in the shadows...

P O S T C A T A L O G:

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed arcs and stories.
Edited.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
N O M A D
A N D T H E
O U T S I D E R S


S T E V E N R O G E R S S U P E R S O L D I E R A W O L O U T S I D E R S

Denied.


[ theme ]

Standing guard over the cart that was said to contain Tillman's pilfered wares, the young Padjal kept vigil there in the midst of the Silver Bazaar.

The vantage point beside the blue-haired Lalafellow afforded the horned youth with the opportunity to observe the comings and goings of the bazaar more closely. Which was when he discovered something that seemed as out of place in Thanalan as he was.

Taking a few steps further from the caravan, the Padjal gave a bow as he approached a most unusual sort of creature. Most would have said that it was a cat, but with bat-like wings and a glowing, round tuft above its head. This particular one was even further distinguished by the cap and satchel that it wore.

It was a delivery Moogle. They were found all through the Twelveswood, from Hyrstmill to Quarrymill, though it had never once occurred to the boy that the Moogles extended their reach beyond the forest. Though, before the Padjal could address his pom-kupo friend, a now familiar voice rang out from behind him.

“A lovely entourage, and all for me?”

The flamboyant Miqo'te was hard to mistake. Neither was the familiar form of Kajin, who emerged following after the dancer. Turning back toward the Moogle, the boy bowed his respects before traveling back toward where it seemed that J'horta and Kajin were appraising Lyveva of their apparent progress with Tillman.

"We believe this is the cart holding the remainder of what can be recovered," the Padjal noted, joining the conversation. At the use of the term 'we', the boy gestured toward the blue-haired Lalafellow named River.

"At the very least, you all deserve a respite from the heat, and lunch, and a bath, and..."

The boy just blinked. It was quite hot. Even being dressed for Gridania's temperate climate, he found that the leather jerkin he wore to be sticking to his skin. The Twelveswood attire was definitely not well suited to the Thanalan environment. Lunch sounded quite lovely as well, as the boy realized that he hadn't eaten anything since the crumpet at the Quicksand that morning.

The mention of a bath, however, caused the boy to give a look of confusion. Which, was when he realized that he was quite grimy, with sand clinging to his skin. And possibly smelling a bit like a chocobo from the caravan ride from Ul'dah. Even if it was just mid-day, a bath probably would be required before entering into whatever kind of abode this free company house was.

He had heard about such housing. Gridania even had a district dedicated for such things, known as the Lavender Beds. However, strange as it may have been, E-Siri had never so much as seen what it was like. When he was in Gridania, he was usually cloistered away inside Stillglade Fane. And, on those occasions that he managed to escape, the Wood Wailers usually ensured that he was delivered to his business in the Twelveswood without either delay or any deviations from the intended travel path.

The other Seedseers all seemed content with this arrangement. E-Siri found it incredibly frustrating. What was the point of the Council if they were only going to concern themselves with what was happening to the small parts of the world they solely concerned themselves with? That seemed to do little good for Gridania or the Twelveswood.
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