dreamingflowers

As Darkness Fell - A dark fantasy story

@Nariata
I actually found the old thread. I can't believe it's almost three years ago!
Reading it all back it doesn't like feel that at all. Wow.....I remember the first few scenes, it was so action packed, right from the get go.

It was called When the Walls beckon. I'm not sure if I can come up with a good character, and if you even want me here XD
I mean the story didn't get very far that time.

As Darkness Fell - A dark fantasy story

This seems so familiar for some reason. I might have been part of this before, if it had a previous run?

The Sunday Group

Name: Malena Sapienti

Age: 24

Concept: Hereditary witch wearing a Catholic veil

Powers/skills: Intimately familiar with many Italian occult traditions and ancient texts, practicing pagan witch who uses sympathetic magic, experienced fortune teller, able to find and remove the Malacchio (the evil eye) from people and places/objects.

Writing sample:

WIP

End + Sleep

@Ferrocerium

She looks amazing!
Thank you so much. I loved the way you worked in the written description of my character sheet. The floral embroidery on her blouse is beautiful. I'll save it in my folder I have for her.
Thanks again ^.^

The Sunday Group - Paranormal Detectives

Very interested!

End + Sleep

Thanks. I like being able to visualize my characters. In fact, if anybody wants, I'd happily try my hand at making your characters.

@Ferrocerium

I already have a character portrait, but I am really curious what you can cook up. If you'd like to try to create Floure that would be pretty awesome. You don't have to though, if you for any reason can't or don't want to.

CLOSED.

I'm still here too.

@Ace of flames01
I'm so sorry for your loss. I wish you a lot of strength during this difficult time.

End + Sleep

Floure

A wealth of raven locks spilled out over the pillow underneath her head. Pale eyes were looking up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, worry drawing down her features into a frown. She was safe.......for now at least. The town of Alonso wasn´t very different from the other small hamlets she´d passed on her wayward journey. A useful difference however was the mixture of ordinary common folk and travelers from all over the provinces. It made her less of an attraction. No one would give her a second look if she snuck out of the young farmer´s barn, and come the morning she wouldn´t be on the lips of every housewife in the village. It was the easiest and most safe method of finding a place to spend the night, next to a preferably handsome farmer, blacksmith or whoever cared for her company.

At times like this, where she was alone with her thoughts, the uncertainty of her future could drive her to madness. The caravan she grew up in was no longer her safe haven. Floure had no idea where they were, what had happened to them after that Midsummer eve, or if they were even still alive. She dreaded to think about her family no longer breathing the same air as her, but the possibility seemed more likely every day. She had put as much distance between her and the place where she´d last seen them, fearing whoever or whatever had attacked them would come back for her. Distance never mattered, they always knew of a way to pass on a message. Why had no one sent her a letter?, a sign?, a whisper in the night. It had been dishearteningly silent.

Floure slipped out of bed quietly, holding the bedding to her chest, tying them around her body as a make shift dress. Somewhere in the corner of the room she'd gathered her belongings. She rummaged through a bundle of tangled up clothes to uncover a small wooden box, taking it with her back to bed. Every trinket that spilled from the box conjured up its own memory and emotion. An old deck of frayed playing cards, used many times by her revered grandmother, a small glass bottle of precious jasmine oil gifted to her by an equally precious sister, a silver comb with swirling vines and flowers. The contents of the box made her smile and soon her mood was lifted.

The sheets next to her moved, someone stirred and shifted. Then suddenly she felt a pair of soft lips follow an invisible trail of kisses up her arm. A strong arm wrapped itself around her shoulders.
"What are you smiling about?" His boyish voice was a strange match for his mature physique, but it was also endearing in a way.
Floure dabbed a little jasmine oil on her neck, the back of her ears and the insides of her wrists. The sweet floral scent immediately surrounded her, casting its enchanting spell.

"Were you thinking about last night?" The young man continued in a husky voice, sniffing the scented air. Floure bit her lip trying not to laugh. She didn't even remember his name much less what they had or hadn't done. She'd slipped a sleeping potion in his drink after they kissed, so whatever he thought had happened was a figment of his imagination. Maybe she gave him a bit too much, hallucinations were a common side effect after all. Floure slid out of his embrace and safely put her keepsakes back in the box.

"Don't get any ideas" Floure said with a cheeky smile on her face. He tried to pull her back to bed, grabbing onto the end of the sheets she had wrapped around herself. His efforts were clearly in vain, she had no intention of coming back. He groaned and fell back onto the bed, faking defeat. Triumphant Floure continued on her way when a sudden forceful tug nearly made her fall over. She whipped her head around, the beginnings of an angry frown on her usually sweet face. Any anger however quickly disappeared when she stared back into the handsome face of the young blacksmith. He had scruffy brunette hair, warm brown eyes, and the beginnings of a light beard. His body betrayed his trade. Strong muscular arms, skin flecked with small scars where he'd accidentally touched hot iron, calloused hands from working the rough material.

"I have to go, there's something going on outside" She explained, trying to be serious seeing his disappointed face, which was not unlike that of a young puppy dog.

"Will I ever see you again?" He sounded sad all of a sudden. Floure found herself feeling remorseful. He'd given her a place to stay, drawn her a bath, put food in her belly. How did she repay him? She had cheated him out of his fun. Biting her lip she kept her back to him, thinking on her answer. She quickly gathered up her clothes and got dressed. As she made her way to the window, the blacksmith jumped out of bed, afraid this beautiful girl would be gone forever if he didn't stop her.

"Hey....a..at least let me make you some breakfast." He stammered, frantically trying to find his clothes. Floure gazed through the window, a soft drizzle was muddying her view, but she could tell there was some sort of event taking place on the square. There were three cages lined up with people inside. They were surrounded by men in uniforms and a crowd of whispering towns folk. The gallows were looming up behind them. A chill ran down her spine, the sight filling her with a sense of dread. Floure wrapped her shawl around her head, shivering.

The blacksmith came up behind her giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.
"Don't worry, those are not for you"

She turned around to face him, finding his wide eyed, slightly fearful expression amusing. Floure smiled while she took of one of her necklaces, drawing the string over her neck and down her long hair, careful not to get it caught. It was a braided cord of blue silk with a shell pendant filed down into the shape of a heart. She attempted to put it around the blacksmith's neck but even on her toes she couldn't reach the top of his head. He bent down with a nervous laugh, the pendant resting right in the centre of his chest. Floure put her palm on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"I'll come back one day....." She said, sounding wistful. Maybe this time she'd fallen in love a little bit too, but he would probably be another broken promise. Sad but true.

She tugged on the necklace to bring his face closer to hers and gave him a kiss on the lips. The blacksmith closed his eyes in delight, but when he opened them again she was gone.

CLOSED.

Location;; Outside of his friend's flat
Interacting With;; Ditzy female reporter

---

---

"Excuse me.....Excuse me!"
The annoyingly ditzy voice of the female reporter made Francesco cringe inwardly. Okay so not every blonde girl was ditzy and well dumb, but this one certainly wasn't trying too hard to break the stereotype. He gave her a good look over as she was practically running towards him the second he stuck one foot outside of the flat. She was wearing a pretty glamorous outfit for a reporter, completely color coordinated which he could definitely appreciate, if she wasn't as annoying.

"Wow, God they're like a bunch of piranhas, can you believe it?" She said, referring to the other reporters. They were acting like the storm had happened yesterday, harassing everyone for the latest piece of news. As if they knew better than everyone else what was going on........not. The reporter didn't wait for an answer, probably not realizing she was pretty much part of the paparazzi herself.

"Thanks for stopping, everyone is in such a rush today"

Like he had a choice, and obviously everyone was in a rush to get away from the press and go about their day, like normal people.

"Hi!" He put on his most cheerful smile which was nearly as annoyingly happy as the blonde girl.
"It's really no big deal, what did you want to know?"

His reluctance to be in this situation could be spotted by anyone with a bit of common sense. His body language was clearly saying he desperately wanted to be somewhere else, like the grocery store or something. His facial expression was the complete opposite, all fake smiles and feigned politeness. The reporter didn't notice at all, completely falling for his kindness. He was caught, stuck in a situation he sadly found himself in way too much. His friend had told him more than once that he should just learn to say no, be honest. Being fake would lead him into these kinds of situations over and over again, until he would finally learn.

"Any news of the missing people in your flat? Have you been in contact with them?"
"When was the last time you saw any of them?"

God.....
The floodgates had been opened. The reporter was bombarding him with questions, none of which he could answer and it was making him extremely uncomfortable. He started to feel his skin grow hot and his face was probably going pretty red. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, a nervous habit, trying to come up with some sort of sensible explanation.

"I...I uh......"
"I don't really live here so, I was just visiting my friend."
He sucked in his breath, waiting wide eyed, trying to find some sort of clue in the reporter's facial expression. It was a barely adequate answer, if he was a reporter he would definitely ask a ton more questions. But the question she asked came completely out of the blue.

"Hey.....do you smell that?"

Oh crap.....he was doing it again.

The first time it happened Francesco figured it must have been a one time freak incident. Whenever he was getting nervous he was creating some sort of perfume that messed with people. The night after the storm his friend Nadia who was usually allergic to displays of affection was giving him hugs none stop and that was after bringing him breakfast in bed. The behavior of Nadia had freaked him out but the idea of him having caused it freaked him out even more, especially because he didn't seem to be able to control it. He had a strong feeling the storm hadn't just been causing people to go missing, it had also messed with the people that "survived" for the lack of a better word.

"Yeah it's like...a kind of perfume..." The report looked a little out of it. She was trying to determine the source of the vaguely floral smell. It was so faint she could barely smell it, but the scent was intoxicating. Without realizing it and to Francesco's dismay she was edging closer and closer until she was practically sniffing his neck. He visibly cringed when she accidentally touched his skin. When they made eye contact he could see her eyes were glazed over slightly, like she was daydreaming, it was quite disturbing.

Okay time to get out of here.

"It was really nice to meet you.." He realized he hadn't caught her name. It wasn't really important he just had to get out of here. The grocery store was as good an excuse as any.

"I've got to run by the grocery store real quick and I'm kind of in a rush, sorry.."

He attempted to turn away but before he could take another step the blonde caught his arm. She was smiling at him, gesturing towards her car.
"I can take you to the store if you like, no need to be hauling all those heavy groceries by foot." Francesco pried himself loose with many uncomfortable smiles and a stammering of words and sentences that didn't make much sense.

"No I'm all good, I really got to run!"

And he definitely ran, all the way down the street. He didn't stop until the grocery store was in sight. He stopped on the parking lot for a second to catch his breath and fix his hair. This was really starting to become a problem.

CLOSED.

Francesco Sapienti

_{{ ”Okay so I know I'm a little green but I'm not stupid you know?” }}

---

---

| Name |

Francesco Sapienti

| Nickname |

Little F - A nickname mostly used by the guys in his family, or his few male friends.
Bambi - Some of his friends call him Bambi because of his doe eyes and small stature.
Sleeping beauty - His brother came up with this "loving" nickname, because he always snaps pictures of his older brother when he's sleeping. Francesco hates the nickname and despises getting his picture taken. He never takes any selfies either.

| Date Of Birth |

20 July, 1992

| Age |

24

| Sexuality |

♂ 💕 ♂

| Relationship Status |

Single

| Occupation |

College student

| In Depth Appearance |

Francesco looks young for his age, like he's in his late teens. He has dark brown wavy hair which he usually wears up out of his face. His eyes are light brown and slightly almond shaped. He has an oval shape face with a pointed nose, full lips, and thick long brows. Occasionally he keeps a bit of neatly trimmed facial hair. His body is slim and toned but without much visible muscle, also he's not the tallest guy in the world at only 5'4".

Francesco dresses according to the season, a bit obsessively one could argue. Not only does he change up his color scheme, opting for earthy, warm tones in the autumn and winter and lighter pastel colors in the spring and summer he changes his entire wardrobe on the exact date of solstices. Even if it's still cold on the Spring solstice he'll swap out his entire wardrobe. He has a strong fashion sense and favors a bohemian style. He knows what looks good on him and generally sticks to softer colors and shapes, flowy cardigans/shirts, scarves, skinny jeans and boots.

| Quirks & Habits |

¿ Superstitious: Francesco is extremely superstitious and while some are quite ridiculous he won't go against them, even going as far as to warn other people, all with the best intentions obviously.

¿ Mirror mirror on the wall: He's always checking his reflection in any reflective surface, a shop window, his phone or an actual mirror. While the habit makes him seem very vain he actually isn't. He's just checking if everything is looking as it's supposed to, not to check out how hot he is.

¿ Neat freak: When he's down or feeling like crap he gets into a cleaning frenzy. He dusts, mops and thoroughly cleans every inch of the house.

| Hobbies |

✿ Gardening: Despite the limited space around his house, he has turned whatever space available into a certified greenhouse. Pots of herbs line the window sills, the little strip of soil in his front yard is covered in various plants. Because there is so little space he is very particular on what kind of plants are growing in his "garden". He selects them according to their usefulness in the kitchen or as medicine, rather than their beauty.

✍ Handwritten letters: He's recently started to exchange handwritten letters with a guy he knows from social media. It has turned into a small obsession, mainly the decorative part of writing the letters, not so much the actual content.

👗 Fashion: Perhaps a bit stereotypical but Francesco loves fashion, be it putting together his own outfits or that of friends and family.

✋ Fortune telling: A skill that was passed down in his family, much like the secret recipes of the Sapienti's famous pasta dishes it is rarely spoken about or used. Francesco likes to perfect his craft and almost exclusively uses a deck of traditional playing cards.

♋ Astrology: Not taken as seriously as his fortune telling but Francesco does like to match up signs. Arguments, disagreements and other misfortune in his relationships with other people are usually blamed on the fact that their signs didn't go well together.

🎂 Baking: Something he picked up in his early teens, which has turned into a small business for family and friends. It relaxes him, but it's not as fun as it used to be, having turned into a weekly activity.

♫ Piano playing: Francesco dabbles a bit on the piano, he has horrid memory and if he doesn't practice daily he'll usually forget the songs, even though it took him ages to learn them.

| Likes |

✔ Italian food
✔ Italian opera music
✔ Children
✔ Anything disney related
✔ Books on spirituality
✔ Good personal hygiene

| Dislikes |

✘ Violence
✘ Loud people
✘ Meat/fish
✘ Losing
✘ Cleaning up after cooking dinner

| Fears |

☠ Being left behind: Francesco is scared of being stuck, to be the only one who's never had a relationship, who will keep living in the same house until everyone moves out, you could call it a misplaced empty nest syndrome.

☠ Losing someone else he loves: Even though losing his mother was the most difficult situation he's ever had to face he's far from ready to lose anyone else. He'd thought his mother would have been around a lot longer than she did.

| Personality |

Helpful and naive are two words which sum up his character pretty well. If you need help with anything, anything at all you should go to him. Even if he can’t help you he'll find someone who will. He tries to see the good in everyone and the upside to every downside. He's an introvert, calm, shy, and somewhat withdrawn. A very sensitive young man who often feels misunderstood. He hates to argue, or see other people argue and is a peace keeper, crossing his own personal limits to ensure group harmony. Often lost in thought he can come across as dreamy, passive and a push over. Add to this the fact that he has a very strong drive to care for others, a maternal instinct he has no qualms about hiding and you have an eccentric guy.

Francesco wasn't slow to realize that he's not your typical guy's guy, but doesn't attempt to act differently. Instead he's accepted the fact that he is the way he is. He'll always be a bit awkward around guys and more at ease around girls. In social situations, he tends to speak only when spoken to and sticks with the people he’s comfortable around. He's always the last one to voice his opinion and often only when asked for. He's a late bloomer and while he has experience in some areas he has a complete lack of experience in others.

| Abilities |

Pheromone generation

Probably intended as a funny cosmic joke the storm has basically turned Francesco into a walking perfume bottle, giving him the ability to generate pheromones. The pheromones are the same type used by several plants and animals. The scent is vaguely floral but barely detectable by the human nose. They are used to to impact behavior in members of the same species. With the right pheromones Francesco can create attraction between two people or have people be attracted to him. Stronger pheromones can be used induce sleep, change emotions, draw crowds, mark territory (causing people to feel the compulsion to not go into a certain area), or to leave a pheromone trail which others can follow.

Francesco has no control over his ability, but has figured out a couple of things so far. His ability activates when he's either nervous or feeling hot, which sadly often happens simultaneously. Exposed skin boosts the pheromones power. So far the only noticeable effect is that people around become more relaxed, feeling very comfortable and pleasant. Touching his skin while his ability is activated makes it worse. When that happens people become extremely nice to him, going out of their way to make him feel better, sometimes fighting over who is going to help him.

| Limitations |

Most pheromones are airborne and scent based, strong winds make them pretty much useless. Covering your nose would be a great way to avoid the effects, once you realize they are being used against you, but it's usually too late by then.
There are other pheromones which are transferred by direct skin-to-skin contact, so keeping him at arms length will keep you safe.

| Place Of Origin |

Benevento, Italy.

| Background |

Francesco grew up in a very close knit Italian immigrant family. He was born prematurely and spent three months in the hospital, luckily with no apparent ill effects on his health. This early event in his life resulted in an overprotective and sheltered upbringing. In school Francesco, didn't really fit in but then again what teen ever does? He made a couple of friends and wasn’t bullied much. All in all, he survived high school and passed his exams at 16.

When it was time to select, a follow up education he came up blank. With no idea, what to do Francesco simply followed the advice of his high school English teacher. He told him to go and do something with his language skills. He enrolled in a commercial type of education where he was taught business skills. Basically, he was destined for office work, the way his life was heading anyway. He didn't realize business was all wrong for him until he nearly had his degree. After his graduation, he made the switch to become a social worker.

Every single one of his friends and family told him not to do it. He was too nice, too soft, not cut out for the job. He enrolled despite of what they said, or in retrospect maybe he did it to prove them wrong. It was a fresh start, he finally felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

He made some lasting friends who he also liked outside of school, a big deal for him. Right after he finished his first year of college his mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was devastating news for the entire family but they never gave up hope for recovery. Sadly, it got worse each year, until he eventually dropped out of school to take care of her. After a near three-year struggle she passed away. To Francesco this entire period was a blur, he had been living his life on auto pilot. He took a gap year and went to work at a clothing store, trying to figure out his next steps, a plan b. The way he'd taken care of his mother made him consider becoming a nurse and after extensive (yes, this time around he gave it much more thought) research and soul searching he decided to enroll in what would hopefully be his last time in school.

With a lot of hard lessons learned and some life experience under his belt (he hates belts) he was more focused and less dreamy. He realized one day that even though he was grieving his life wasn't all that bad. He was starting school again, lived together with his dad and little brother under one roof, with family living either in the same street or a few blocks away. He had people who loved him, an important job to do, keep everything going. It was like he took his mom’s place and seeing how they were so much alike it went very smoothly. If that's a good thing remains to be seen.

He struggles with his newfound reality, way more than he lets on. After another fight with his dad he stayed over at his friend's flat in The Lights. When the storm hit, he was hiding under the covers afraid of the booming thunder. The next morning he still felt a little off, he figured he must still be spooked from a restless night. His friend however was uncharacteristically nice all of sudden.