Ginnungagap

Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

Yay, and now I wait.

Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

Glen Pearwoolf

Glen Pearwoolf

"All dreams are born of a truth in the heart of the dreamer"

Age: 31
Gender: Male

Appearance

Glen is an unassuming man of about 5'3", a short man of sleek build and who practically blends into the background when left to his own devices. Tired green eyes stare out at a world full of lies, always accompanied by either bags or dark circles below them. His salt-and-pepper hair is kept short but remains terminally unkempt, only cared for in the most superficial of ways but otherwise allowed to simply do as it desires.
His fashion sense is equally substantive, in that it possesses absolutely no backing in anything. He wears suits that don't fit because they fit just fine two years ago and they still fit now, and most of his clothes are already suits so he might as well just keep wearing them. Ties are worn because they're easier than bowties, not because of trivial things like actually matching his shirt. It's honestly a miracle that he usually manages to wear slacks that go with his shirt, but that probably has more to do with a lack of variety than any actual effort on his part.

Personality

Glen is the very image of a man who has been chewed up and spit out one too many times. He is a man with no drive and who long ago forgot what it meant to have ambition, moving only according to his needs and acting only to keep his place in the world. To be quite honest most people would perceive him to be a dullard, given his unwillingness to do anything more than what is absolutely necessary with little regard for the consequences of doing such subpar work, and his utter lack of enthusiasm towards anything one might call fun. Sure, it's possible for him to get caught up in the moment, but it's always in the moment with him.
At least he was up until a little witch pulled on his chain. That brought something out of him, though whether it's what she wants or what she needs, only time will tell. Something about service seems to have relit that little dead ember in his heart called passion, but when he speaks with such a fire in his heart it betrays he had a reason to bury his years ago.

Abilities

Affinity - Dreams
Mana Quantity - Average
Mana Quality - Superb

• Sleep - The most basic application of Glen's affinity is of course to send the undefended off to a blissful nap, though this generally doesn't do much against anyone with even the barest mental defenses still standing. It's a simple trick, and not one Glen trusts too often. Far more useful is the other side of such sleep magic, delving into the dreams of someone who is asleep and taking command of them, twisting them to either deceive or to terrify the dreamer.
• Actualization - The Pearwoolf lineage's real art, however, is taking dreams and desires and making them real. While the things they make are images born of the mind, unlike an illusion they have substance to them; a sword drawn out of the desire to strike out still cuts just as well as a real sword. The number and frequency of distinct objects are limited by Glen's relatively subpar mana quantity for his line, though the durability and strength of his conjurations are typically rather high, so long as the aspiration he pulls has enough force behind it to support itself. A fleeting, momentary desire for something is just that when made real: fleeting and momentary.
  Lucky for Glen the act of creating a tool or weapon comes with enough knowledge to competently use whatever he makes, though that is only to the point of competence, not expertise. Unluckily for him, aside from creating and dismissing the things, both of which require a spell, Glen has no special control over the things he Actualizes, e.g., something made of fire could be taken over by a pyromancer and thrown back in his face, or could simply burn him from being foolish enough to touch it.
• Nightmare Actualization - One might assume with all this talk of aspiration and desire that the Pearwoolf line has avoided touching bad dreams with their magic, but this is incorrect. A frightful, turbulent dream of horror is still a dream and still has that inkling of Truth that they shape their magic around, and Glen is just as capable of pulling some horrible, visceral thing out of the heads of those nearby or from his own mind as he is something noble and wanted. Creating a thing out of someone's nightmares follows all the same rules as creating something from their dreams, however, and any fear caused by a creation is normal, mundane fear. Sure it might be custom-tailored to the viewer but people are kind of known for flight or fight responses.

Skills

• Accounting - Glen's good with numbers, books full of numbers, and money. Good enough to get a job working with just those things.
• Inspiration - Despite the fact that it's a long-unused skill, Glen is actually good at inspiring feeling and emotions in others, if he actuallys puts his mind to it. He'd be a natural muse if he wasn't such a sadsack.
• Lucidity - Even without magic, Glen is naturally a lucid dreamer, capable of taking control of and shaping his own dreams with no need for a spell.
• Technical Aptitude - Seeing as it seems to be a trend with some of the cast here, it's probably worth noting that Glen does not have any issues with modern technology and is quite capable of things like using a computer for everyday tasks.

Assets

Though his family is influential in Wales, Glen is individually not, and he is also not in Wales at the moment, so he must rely on his own resources instead of theirs for the most part...

• A wizard's stave... - Warded against the eyes of those uninitiated to the supernatural, Glen habitually carries a willow quarterstaff capped with a hand-sized hoop filled with cloth, displaying a red dragon with a background horizontally split into white and green. He claims it's a badge of his office in representing his family, if questioned, but it also makes a rather good weapon for just beating things when he inevitably runs out of mana.
• A forest's grove... - The only benefit Glen really considers part of his role in representing his family is that it does come with existing housing that he doesn't have to pay rent on, though it's a bit of a sad state of affairs: a quaint cabin in Buckhurst Hill, adjoining Epping Forest. On the one hand it's been the home of magi for centuries and is warded as one might expect a place that has long housed such people. On the other hand it's been the home of magi for centuries, so modern conveniences like 'running water' or 'electricity' are somewhat lacking. And getting pizza delivered is difficult with wards like that around.
• An everyday life - Glen does, on the other hand, favor modern conveniences, and owns both a laptop and a phone which he can put to good use, and although he lives a relatively simple life he does keep plenty of perfectly mundane objects around where other magi might not. While not rich he still has quite a bit of savings in the bank he can use, and that's measuring from an accountant's standpoint.

Brief Backstory

The house of Prengellyg, anglicanized as Pearwoolf, draws its origins as a single family from the late 9th century, as a union between a family of Danish seers from Northumbria and Welsh druids in the court of King Anarawd in Gwynedd during a regrettably short-lived alliance with King Guthred of York. It is sufficient to say that their position in the Welsh court became strained in the decades that followed, and in the centuries that followed as the power of Wales shrank until it was finally conquered by the English, their influence waned ever more, and they did not regain any real status until the ascent of Henry VII to the throne of England, but from there they were determined to maintain their status as a noble line of mages, holding fast to their heritage in the face of a world that was rapidly changing.

Glen Pearwoolf is the product of this family, and grew up in the tiny village of Aberffraw on Anglesey, the ancestral home of his family. He was raised traditionally, taught everything he would need to be a proper representative of the pride of his people, and then sent off to the Tower of London to complete his schooling in the art of magic.
He came back home having learned how to be English, how to live among the uninitiated, how to work like the uninitiated, and how to use magic. As he was really only supposed to pick up one of those things before coming back and helping to further solidify the family's power, like his brothers and sisters and cousins had, the only solution was to send him back to England to live amongst the tyrants. To that end he was made the family's representative to England, a formal position with about as much prestige as one might expect from a traditionalist family of Welsh nobility, and sent off to go represent them there.
Aside from some minimal duties of showing up and relaying news back to the family, Glen has very little contact with his relatives, which suits him just fine. He found work in London, becoming an accountant, and just sinking on down into that role until it just became who he was.
And then someone pulled on his chain and given he knew the reputation of who was calling on him, a certain blonde devil, he decided it was better to resign from his mundane job to save face. Because chances were, at least in his mind, that she wouldn't have enough mercy to let him off the hook for something as simple as 'having a real job'. That would imply someone else's life was as important as hers, and he knew damn well that no respectable mage would dare think such a thought.

Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

I'm just gonna put this down before I add any more detail on anything because honestly I have more than enough now.

Glen Pearwoolf

Glen Pearwoolf

"All dreams are born of a truth in the heart of the dreamer"

Age: 31
Gender: Male

Appearance

Glen is an unassuming man of about 5'3", a short man of sleek build and who practically blends into the background when left to his own devices. Tired green eyes stare out at a world full of lies, always accompanied by either bags or dark circles below them. His salt-and-pepper hair is kept short but remains terminally unkempt, only cared for in the most superficial of ways but otherwise allowed to simply do as it desires.
His fashion sense is equally substantive, in that it possesses absolutely no backing in anything. He wears suits that don't fit because they fit just fine two years ago and they still fit now, and most of his clothes are already suits so he might as well just keep wearing them. Ties are worn because they're easier than bowties, not because of trivial things like actually matching his shirt. It's honestly a miracle that he usually manages to wear slacks that go with his shirt, but that probably has more to do with a lack of variety than any actual effort on his part.

Personality

Glen is the very image of a man who has been chewed up and spit out one too many times. He is a man with no drive and who long ago forgot what it meant to have ambition, moving only according to his needs and acting only to keep his place in the world. To be quite honest most people would perceive him to be a dullard, given his unwillingness to do anything more than what is absolutely necessary with little regard for the consequences of doing such subpar work, and his utter lack of enthusiasm towards anything one might call fun. Sure, it's possible for him to get caught up in the moment, but it's always in the moment with him.
At least he was up until a little witch pulled on his chain. That brought something out of him, though whether it's what she wants or what she needs, only time will tell. Something about service seems to have relit that little dead ember in his heart called passion, but when he speaks with such a fire in his heart it betrays he had a reason to bury his years ago.

Abilities

Affinity - Dreams
Mana Quantity - Average
Mana Quality - Superb

• Sleep - The most basic application of Glen's affinity is of course to send the undefended off to a blissful nap, though this generally doesn't do much against anyone with even the barest mental defenses still standing. It's a simple trick, and not one Glen trusts too often. Far more useful is the other side of such sleep magic, delving into the dreams of someone who is asleep and taking command of them, twisting them to either deceive or to terrify the dreamer.
• Actualization - The Pearwoolf lineage's real art, however, is taking dreams and desires and making them real. While the things they make are images born of the mind, unlike an illusion they have substance to them; a sword drawn out of the desire to strike out still cuts just as well as a real sword. The number and frequency of distinct objects are limited by Glen's relatively subpar mana quantity for his line, though the durability and strength of his conjurations are typically rather high, so long as the aspiration he pulls has enough force behind it to support itself. A fleeting, momentary desire for something is just that when made real: fleeting and momentary.
  Lucky for Glen the act of creating a tool or weapon comes with enough knowledge to competently use whatever he makes, though that is only to the point of competence, not expertise. Unluckily for him, aside from creating and dismissing the things, both of which require a spell, Glen has no special control over the things he Actualizes, e.g., something made of fire could be taken over by a pyromancer and thrown back in his face, or could simply burn him from being foolish enough to touch it.
• Nightmare Actualization - One might assume with all this talk of aspiration and desire that the Pearwoolf line has avoided touching bad dreams with their magic, but this is incorrect. A frightful, turbulent dream of horror is still a dream and still has that inkling of Truth that they shape their magic around, and Glen is just as capable of pulling some horrible, visceral thing out of the heads of those nearby or from his own mind as he is something noble and wanted. Creating a thing out of someone's nightmares follows all the same rules as creating something from their dreams, however, and any fear caused by a creation is normal, mundane fear. Sure it might be custom-tailored to the viewer but people are kind of known for flight or fight responses.

Skills

• Accounting - Glen's good with numbers, books full of numbers, and money. Good enough to get a job working with just those things.
• Inspiration - Despite the fact that it's a long-unused skill, Glen is actually good at inspiring feeling and emotions in others, if he actuallys puts his mind to it. He'd be a natural muse if he wasn't such a sadsack.
• Lucidity - Even without magic, Glen is naturally a lucid dreamer, capable of taking control of and shaping his own dreams with no need for a spell.
• Technical Aptitude - Seeing as it seems to be a trend with some of the cast here, it's probably worth noting that Glen does not have any issues with modern technology and is quite capable of things like using a computer for everyday tasks.

Assets

Though his family is influential in Wales, Glen is individually not, and he is also not in Wales at the moment, so he must rely on his own resources instead of theirs for the most part...

• A wizard's stave... - Warded against the eyes of those uninitiated to the supernatural, Glen habitually carries a willow quarterstaff capped with a hand-sized hoop filled with cloth, displaying a red dragon with a background horizontally split into white and green. He claims it's a badge of his office in representing his family, if questioned, but it also makes a rather good weapon for just beating things when he inevitably runs out of mana.
• A forest's grove... - The only benefit Glen really considers part of his role in representing his family is that it does come with existing housing that he doesn't have to pay rent on, though it's a bit of a sad state of affairs: a quaint cabin in Buckhurst Hill, adjoining Epping Forest. On the one hand it's been the home of magi for centuries and is warded as one might expect a place that has long housed such people. On the other hand it's been the home of magi for centuries, so modern conveniences like 'running water' or 'electricity' are somewhat lacking. And getting pizza delivered is difficult with wards like that around.
• An everyday life - Glen does, on the other hand, favor modern conveniences, and owns both a laptop and a phone which he can put to good use, and although he lives a relatively simple life he does keep plenty of perfectly mundane objects around where other magi might not. While not rich he still has quite a bit of savings in the bank he can use, and that's measuring from an accountant's standpoint.

Brief Backstory

The house of Prengellyg, anglicanized as Pearwoolf, draws its origins as a single family from the late 9th century, as a union between a family of Danish seers from Northumbria and Welsh druids in the court of King Anarawd in Gwynedd during a regrettably short-lived alliance with King Guthred of York. It is sufficient to say that their position in the Welsh court became strained in the decades that followed, and in the centuries that followed as the power of Wales shrank until it was finally conquered by the English, their influence waned ever more, and they did not regain any real status until the ascent of Henry VII to the throne of England, but from there they were determined to maintain their status as a noble line of mages, holding fast to their heritage in the face of a world that was rapidly changing.

Glen Pearwoolf is the product of this family, and grew up in the tiny village of Aberffraw on Anglesey, the ancestral home of his family. He was raised traditionally, taught everything he would need to be a proper representative of the pride of his people, and then sent off to the Tower of London to complete his schooling in the art of magic.
He came back home having learned how to be English, how to live among the uninitiated, how to work like the uninitiated, and how to use magic. As he was really only supposed to pick up one of those things before coming back and helping to further solidify the family's power, like his brothers and sisters and cousins had, the only solution was to send him back to England to live amongst the tyrants. To that end he was made the family's representative to England, a formal position with about as much prestige as one might expect from a traditionalist family of Welsh nobility, and sent off to go represent them there.
Aside from some minimal duties of showing up and relaying news back to the family, Glen has very little contact with his relatives, which suits him just fine. He found work in London, becoming an accountant, and just sinking on down into that role until it just became who he was.
And then someone pulled on his chain and given he knew the reputation of who was calling on him, a certain blonde devil, he decided it was better to resign from his mundane job to save face. Because chances were, at least in his mind, that she wouldn't have enough mercy to let him off the hook for something as simple as 'having a real job'. That would imply someone else's life was as important as hers, and he knew damn well that no respectable mage would dare think such a thought.

Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

@VitaVitaAR Well I don't see a clear defining thing for mana on this, but how does quantity vs quality work. Good quantity and good quality is good. Bad quantity and bad quality is bad. But what's it like when you've got good quality but bad quantity? And vice versa?

Already got a personality and I'm working on abilities right now, I think my writing style might be getting a bit too flowery right now though so I'll probably have to tone that down a bit so that the abilities section doesn't read like an absolute madman wrote it. Because reading it back it kinda feels like I went a bit overboard on it. I might just give up and write it out more in list format because that'll stop me from randomly starting soliloquies.

Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

Poking in to express some interest in joining in too, since this seems open. I gotta finish reading through everything before I know if I've got an questions or a character to throw up

Erstwhile School ~ Fantasy Board School RP

I know I did a longpost but please tell me I didn't scare everyone off, it's been so quiet these past few days.

Erstwhile School ~ Fantasy Board School RP

Woohoo, finally found time and energy to get out that post.
I kinda wanna know how Galdin felt about being passed up on that position...but I wonder if he'd be relieved after seeing that by not being made the representative that he managed to avoid being directly equated to a bird. Jeralt, meanwhile, has to deal with the fact that his test scores are competitive with a bird's, and that he'll be inevitably called a birdbrain.
Even if I have to have Garuth be the one that says it.

Erstwhile School ~ Fantasy Board School RP

The girl was speaking to him, which, to be honest, Garuth should have expected. Given the size of the crowd, however, he did not give any sort of response that could be considered an answer aside from a few rushed caw-caw-caws that could at least be interpreted as acknowledging what she'd said to him.
It certainly wasn't a very good answer to a proper introduction but he'd been warned time and time again one simple thing about peacefully interacting with other peoples.
Humans and elves and honestly pretty much everyone were afraid of fire. Or at least afraid of fire that wasn't strictly regulated by a human, elf, and/or some other elf-shaped creature. It made them panic, and there were a whole lot of them here moving around unpredictably, so a bit of impromptu incendiary skywriting would probably be a rather poor choice even if the girl couldn't otherwise understand his point. She'd have to settle for not understanding. Or maybe she did understand birdsong? She did seem pretty bird-like after all.

The announcements from the stage did draw some of his attention though, even if he couldn't see from his new perspective of the ground. Such strange names these humans had. How exactly did one earn the name Dragon-Lancer? This person was simply a student here, not a fierce warrior who had slain so many dragons that he became known for it, right? Or maybe humans were more impressive than he had assumed despite their strange and nonsensical anatomy. They couldn't even change shape like an Anima-Iht, how could they have hoped to keep pace after all.
And then the youth called him to the stage. This was utterly unexpected. Mostly because he hadn't been aware that this was even a position at play. Sure, it was fine that the humans were blind to his light, but that's because humans were easily blinded when looking at the sun, so of course they hadn't immediately put him on top of the heap. But this Dragon-Lancer had been able to look close enough to put him near the top, where he of course belonged, yes, but he had expected it would take more time for their eyes to adjust to see the truth.
He looked to Leihra, before turning around and extending his wings upwards, an act that would likely catch the attention of anyone who wasn't a six-and-a-half-foot tall giantess standing up to her full height, as his wingtips stretched out to almost the height of a human being, before he flicked them down, launching himself into the air and restarting his flight on to wherever the stage was. It took a few more flaps to get properly going, but that first one had to be slow on the upstroke just to ensure people understood the message and got out of the way.

That platform there looked like a stage. It certainly shone like a stage would. And it had only a few people on it, as opposed to the mass that covered the grounds around it. It would take a bit of maneuvering and time spent just getting to the place, but nonetheless he did fly over to the stage and made a much more graceful landing this time as he aimed for the ground from the start instead of making that decision half a second before impact.
On the other hand, 'more graceful' meant in this case that he swooped in, left a set of scores on the stage as his talons met the nice and presumably polished-to-perfection surface, and initially facing away from the crowd. Though that last part was on purpose, as it let him waddle around on those selfsame talons—with just as much care for the surface now as when he landed—and show off every side of his body after landing. It all would have likely been impressive if he hadn't flown so far uninterrupted and crashed into the ground less than 5 minutes prior, as his feathers, to be as gentle as possible, were in complete disarray, with a couple visibly sticking out on his head.
Not that he was that concerned, really. He preened for himself, after all. Everyone else was meant to recognize just how bright he shined without such trivialities.

Erstwhile School ~ Fantasy Board School RP

They will represent their respective Domicile in the school meetings. Please note, I will be choosing a third leader for Domicile Bellator in a later date. Now please welcome to the stage, your two Domicile Leaders. Garuth Stone-Singer of Domicile Divinos and Jeralt Seymour of domicile Princeps!"

Madman should have checked and made sure he wasn't making a literal bird class president. Meetings are going to be high stakes affairs now, with fire and screeching.
So basically just your normal everyday student council to be honest.

Erstwhile School ~ Fantasy Board School RP

Garuth took another lazy loop in the sky as the bell rang before he took note of the strange landbound person who seemed to be watching him and inviting him.
She was so tall, a mountain among humanoids on a mountain among mountains. But that just made it easier to spot her—he was pretty sure it was a her, she didn't seem too extravagant so that was a point in that direction—so he started to fly on down, pulling his wings in and just letting gravity take charge. As he approached, he spread out his wings and began to slow down, aiming to make a perfect, discrete landing...
Problem was that a nice pretty landing like that, from air straight to shoulder, was something more accessible to a creature much lighter, smaller, and more acrobatic. He tried to slow down enough to land nice and gently, but it wasn't really enough. He recognized that much, and rather than let his talons sink in to the kind lady's shoulder, a few desperate, quick flaps of his wings redirected his path, cutting out his speed and stalling him in the air, to predictable results: He slipped through the air and hit the ground at her feet, a ruffle of feathers and soft flesh tangled up before the harpy. He managed to squawk after that landing though, announcing himself, so at least it wasn't a dead bird at her feet. It would only be a few seconds though before he would start straightening himself up, standing on his own legs and looking up at her expectantly as if nothing was wrong.

@SmokeDragon