LadyRunic

Blood's Jewels (Closed)

Blood's Jewels

“Terreille in Trouble”

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@Torack@eclecticwitch The woman and Eyrien from Dene Nehele went to sleep after a long chat into the evening of that night. All parties shaken by the revelations, though none slept deeper than the three Saroth brothers. Their snores filling the rounding halls of the eyrie. A comforting sound for the Black Widow though perhaps not so much for Fatima, Lucivar, and Andressa. The Black Widow however remained awake longer into the night than the Queen or her men. Her fingers tracing the threads of a tangled web as she considered the shape of the Court that was forming. What she had seen was becoming reality and Faeril Ashkevron was worried it wasn't necessarily a good thing. The moon was lowering towards the horizon when she did rest, the Queen settled in the room behind her. No danger would touch the Lady.

@nohbdies@13org The morning came and with it the sky was a bright blue, with clouds that scuttled over the sky due to a quick and fierce breeze. The mountains of Askavi towered over the bowels of valleys and the forests that clung to the slopes like a skirt of green about the grey stone. Dark forms of Eyriens flickered high overhead as they went about their daily tasks. Aren was slowly waking as dawn broke into the valley over the proud peaks. Standing over it all like a dark looming pillar was Ebon Askavi. The Keep and lair of Witch. The Sanctuary of the Blood. There were plenty of rumors about the place that made the Blood of Terrielle wary of it. That it was shut to all, that there were horrors in those halls the Blood did not dare risk. Yet, every so often someone would be so brave or desperate to chance it. The small home that they had been directed to lay far above him, a staircase carved from the side of the mountain narrow and doubling back on itself. Yet at the top was a home carved a mountain's face. The windows sparkling from the rain of last night. The garden blooming in delight of the rain. The door looking battered but study as it dared any to approach it.

Heroes of Olympus: the Next Age of Heroes

Athanasia, Daughter of Hades

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Athanasia Theroux

Character Quote: "You can't buy love, but you can pay dearly for it."

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Character Summary

Name: Athanasia Theroux
Aliases: Ash, Athana/Athania, Theroux
Age: 10
Birthday: August 27 2010
Ethnicity: Swedish
Birth Place: Delphi, Greece (Lived in Providence, Rhode Island before Camp Half-Blood)
Godly Parent: Hades
Cabin Number: Hades Cabin
How Many Years At Camp: Over a year
Gender: Female
Occupation At Camp: Camper
Languages: Ancient Greek, Swedish, English

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Appearance

Height: 4 foot 5 inches
Weight: 60 pounds
Body Type: Slim
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Pale blonde
Skin Tone: Pale white
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:
Personal Style: Athanasia, or Ash if one is familiar enough with her, is a lady of quality. She enjoys a good taste in fashion and while perhaps not the favorite person of her mother's husband- her step-father- Ash does live a comfortable life. This is relevant in her taste for dresses of a Lolita sort as she considers the current trend 'too bland' for her cuteness. Wearing reasonable skirts and, only if she must, adorable pants with equally adorable shoes. She has a arrayed a collect of purloined and carefully cared for attire. Something Athanasia is very protective over as getting replacements are not easy. Especially replaces of her many, and very different, hats and her teddybear purse. A gift from her mother.

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Psychology

Cunning * Vengeful * Passionate * Cruel * Perfectionist * Sharp

Sexuality: Demisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Athanasia can be termed in one word as adorable. She's the 'Little Lady' of the party, the type that can smile and charm. A bright and friendly person, that people feel comfortable telling their problems to despite her age. In part this is due to her persistence to 'help' and in part to the fact she is very honest and considerate. But that is merely a mask of sorts, yet friends will still come to her to cry on her shoulder and speak of their woes. Something they can do safely as Athanasia has never broken her given word. No matter what may come because of that. Breaking her word is akin to a mortal sin in Athanasia's point of her view. It would break all the reputation she's built up and her image of being the perfect little daughter. Mind you, she's ten.

Perhaps because of this she wears a very different face in her more private life away from the public eye. In private she is a vengeful spirit that wields her sharp tongue and wicked humor to great effect against any slight to her or those close to her. It is not something she reveals to many. Her sharp temper and pride are a bold streak across her young mind while her quieter and softer affections are her mask, the true affection is far more genuine. She cares deeply for those who can accept her her and embraces those rare few she lets in so far that they can see the flaws and cracks within Ash's battered heart. For all her smiles and sharp temper (the latter when pushed), Athanasia is a very delicate person at times who does need the quiet affection and companionship of good company of friends to be her cornerstone rather than her being theirs. Though she is often wary of people, fearing rejection. Either due to her tastes, her status, her Father's identity or failing to be perfect.
Fatal Flaw: holding grusges
Habits: She has a habit of pouting when thinking or troubled and pulling her lower lip. She also has a horrible habit of giving elaborated sighs of 'Oh, La!'. Her other favorite saying is a sweet and venomous 'Kiss, kiss' and have it mean someone should go shove a knife up their butt.
Hobbies: She enjoys drawing, listening to music, collecting Lolita, tea time and taking long walks about to random places to sketch the scenery. Though, dancing and fencing come in shortly after that.
Fears:

• Breaking her word or being 'lesser' than what she could be
• Chimera
• Causing a friend's death

Likes:

• Drawing
• Nighttime
• Cats
• 'Discussing' (Her form of verbally sparring)
• Skulls (Not that she will admit this openly)
• Music

Dislikes:

• Monkeys
• People who break their word
• Those who talk down to her
• Early mornings
• Getting dirty
• Her eyes

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Skills

Demigod Abilities:

• Necromancy - As the daughter of Hades she can summon the dead, or their remains, to aid her as well speak to them. However, this makes her sensitive to when someone is dying and she often fears that she could inadvertently speed up someone's death when they are on the threshold. So she will often flee from an dying ally rather than help them.
• Umbrakensis - Control over shadows and the ability to travel through them. It is this skill she hones far more regularly than her Necromancy powers. It is on her long walks in private when she works these powers and pushes them to do more and do better. Constantly unsatisfied with her abilities and constantly degrades them and herself privately.

General Skills: (What does he or she know, must fit in within what the character knows)

• Sketching
• Dancing
• Sneaking about
• Charismatic
• Archaeology - Namely the study of bones and human anatomy
• Acrobatics

Combat Skills: (Must fit what your character knows)

• Beginner Archery
• Fencing
• Martial Arts
• Dodging

Magic Item: (It can be something like Percy's Riptide, Annabeth's invisibility cap, ect)

• Black Rose - It is described as being lighter than a broadsword, but double edged like one. Made from Stygian Iron The hilt was studded with pale gems and was topped by a green crystal. It can drain away a beings essence- life. Turning the opponent into a corpse Athanasia can use as a support. It's a bit big but she's growing into it. A gift from Hades.
• Chatters the Skull - A chattering,talking skull her powers accidentally brought about. He can't really do anything other than talk and observe the world about him. As well as move his jaw, thus gaining the name Chatter. Quiet often the unwilling participant to many of Athanasia's tea times.

What Do They Carry On Them:
This includes your clothing, jewelry, your wallet, your id, your keys; cash (denote which country), a picture, lighter, cigarettes, weapons you may carry, shoes, purse, bag, pistol and so forth. If it is not listed you are not carrying it. Again, keep it grounded in the real world. Limited to spots provided.

• Clothing - A dress generally (Or skirt with a matching blouse), with shorts, a hat, gloves on her person somewhere and generally a few sections of jewelry. Ash can be found wearing either MaryJane and some form of stockings or sandals.
• Stuffed Teddy Bear Backpack -
• A sketchpad and pencils (with sharpeners)
• 10 dollars US, 100 Swedish krona, and 30 drachma in a skill emblazoned wallet
• A parasol to match her clothing
• Several packages of candy
• A teacup (metal)
• Several Handkerchiefs
• A MP3 player
• Several bags of tea

Possessions In Cabin:
(What Does he or she keep at their assigned cabin, anything from weapons, trophies they have take while on quests, and any other personal possessions they have.)

• A tea set
• A picture of her mother and 'Papa' (Thought its often sitting under the tea set.)
• Her other sets of Clothing
• A fencing sword
• A small practice naginata
• Several books about the human skeleton
• Several notebooks filled with sketchs
• A journal
• A world Atlas with pictures of where her mother has been.
• A small army of health and beauty products
• A large baseball bat

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History

Biography
It began in Delhi, Greece with the wail of a small child. Born in the archaeology camp there, for her mother was a foolhardy woman who loved her work a bit too much. Ryssa Theroux had always loved ancient history and even written a good few papers on the subject. The only problem was a lack of funding, so she had married into money. A wealthy man who fell for the tall and fair haired Swedish woman. Athanasia did not understand this, nor does she still. Her first memories were of travelling with her mother during the long summer months to the different archaeology camps she would go and examine. Though she never really fit in there, Athanasia had a strong respect for the history the places held and a fascination with the dead. Something that horrified her mother and many others. During the school year when her mother turned the lecturing and working from her desk, Athanasia met and entertained the 'Important Guests'. People who were business partners of her parents. It was at five years old Athanasia noticed something odd. Her Papa never smiled or really paid much attention aside when these 'Important Guests' came and never smiled at her aside from then. Knowing better than to lie to her child (for when she once did to replace a lost teddy bear, Athanasia had rejected the bear for a solid two months and had refused to speak to her mother), Ryssa settled for as much of the truth as she could give Athanasia.

Her 'Papa' was not her true father at all, but this strange and unknown 'Father' was far away and very busy. Athanasia had not known what her mother meant fully but that she was trying to explain something without delving too much. Her mother had explained to the small child that this was a secret that she must tell no one. Well! Athanasia was very good at keeping secrets, so she took on this challenge. She also was used to being told no or half of the truth, so the child took to listening at door and sneaking about the house like a ghost. She learned that her 'Papa' was hurt by her being around so she often made herself scarce to the man when she was not needed to entertain 'Important Guests' and let them comment about how darling and charming she was. Things that only resolved that little girl notion if she was perfect then she would not hurt him so much! When she heard him complain she was too perfect, that little vengeful nature shaped a grudge as she had been doing it for him and held it close. If being perfect bugged him, well then she would be all she could be and as perfect as she could be! He was the one who was never satisfied. Her mother insisted that Athanasia learn how to fight and tumble. The former she hated but was diligent on, learning karate and in her later years fencing when she commented to her mother how graceful they were. For the young half-blood already was dancing in a effort to be 'perfect' and 'charming'. The latter she learned with delight for tumbling about felt like she was flying and it was relaxing to the young-er Athanasia.

When she was seven, Athanasia had traveled with her mother to the city of New Orleans, and gotten horribly lost in the massive Saint Louis Cemetery to her mother's horror when Ryssa turned to find her child no longer there. She was found hours later near midnight sitting in one of the oldest sections. Athanasia said that her friends were playing so she had gone to listen to them. Which was written off as childish foolishness. Her mother knew the truth however. Taking Athanasia aside during that night in their hotel room, her mother informed the child of her unnamed father, Hades. Oh, Athanasia knew of the Greek Gods. Her mother was a historian after all. But Hades? Her father? Athanasia had taken three months to come to terms with it and by then she was eight. Deciding at the end of the day it didn't really matter as Hades was not here. She planted her feet and set her course to being perfect and the person she had always tried to be. Though she admitted to her mother that she would have to learn a lot more to be all she could be much to the woman's amusement. The words that she did not need to be perfect fell on her spine of iron and slid away. There was a grudge to be had against her father, but Athanasia carefully held it in check. Unsure what to make of Hades even when she met this unknown 'Father'. He gifted her with the Mávro Triantáfyllo, her sword. Something which confused her even further, though she strives for the Lord of the Dead's approval.

How Long Have They Been At Camp Half-Blood:
Athanasia came to Camp Half-Blood after a particularly bad experience with a monster. Had it not been for the self-defense lessons her mother had insisted that she take, Ash would most likely have been in deeper trouble. Constant horrors stalking her in the middle of the night, which irritated her Papa's temper and weakened her mother's pleas, developed into a full blown run for freedom from some unknown terror that Athanasia has shoved to the back of her mind. Finding the house in utter ruins and a small Athanasia curled up in her mother's small study gripping the old skull her mother had been studying with a strange boy in their house. It was one thing for a girl to have such a horrifying nightmare, but clutching a skull and a house torn to shreds? Athanasia's step father had had enough. The boy turned out to be Ryland Astrapi, the half-blood Son of Zeus and left with her paternal cousin to travel to the camp with a tearful farewell by her mother. It's been a bit over a year since and the fright of that night has only sharpened Athanasia's hatred for the monsters who would kill, harm or hunt her. Though she misses her mother terribly she does understand this is what is best for her. Which is what her mother wants. Her relationship with Ry developed from there into a sibling like relationship, though she does maintain a teeny-tiny bit of hero worship to him which she covers with snippy comments.

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Additional Information

Theme Song:

Extra Information: Egyptian Mythology, Set, Post
I agree to follow the rules for this RP and understand that if I do not follow the rules, the GM or Co-GM may kick me out of this roleplay.

Relation Sheet - Arc One

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Relations

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Athanasia Theroux

"It's all fun and games until someone loses their flesh."

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣️Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨️Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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💛 Kiera Donovan 💛
"She's more active than my beautiful self, but still!"
Kiera is a active and friendly woman, one who Athanasia has gotten to know and chats to on occasion.

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💛 Marco DePaulo 💛
"Oh la, he has incredibly good taste in clothes."
Athanasia's and Marco's friendship blossomed and flourishes over fashion. While it isn't necessarily Athanasia's top care in the world, they come high on the list. Fashion buddies.

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🎆💕 Ryland 'Ry' Astrapi 💕🎆
"The exact combination of an awesome big brother and an awesome fighter that requires some ego monitoring."
When a guy saves you from the Chimera when you're nine, you generally find that guy pretty awesome. It may have been coincidence that brought the two of them together, but Ry was the first Half-Blood other than herself Athanasia met and became her lifeline in the turbulence that erupted afterwards. He was her hero for that and his knowledge of this new life she had been thrust into. Though she does tease the poor hero mercilessly at times, she did learn to fight with a shield to emulate him. Not that Athanasia will openly admit that.

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👋 Aella Perez 👋
"She's nice, but a bit snappish with the whip."
Athanasia respects Aella, though she find her honesty a bit biting about the edges, especially how Aella can pick on flaws. Nothing that is too odd to Athanasia. Being that she herself can be very honest, Athanasia can get away with it being her childish, adorable facade.

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💛 Rebecca Eventide 💛
"A kindly enough tea companion."
With both having control of the dead, Athanasia sometimes trains with Rebecca. That training being namely in the necromancy powers both possess. There's also the odd cup of tea the two share. Athanasia enjoys the conversations with Rebecca.

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👋 Bronwyn Rae Knowles 👋
"A odd girl, but a nice one."
Their relationship is a quiet one that isn't quite friendship. Being her friendly self, Athanasia is aware that Brynn is rather wary of her and thus gives her space.

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🎆💞 Arthur Stanford 💞🎆
"A half-brother. We get along til we don't."
Athanasia never knew she had a half-sibling, but once the facts were laid out what could she do. They get along quite well with both being vengeful, clever and sophisticated children. While he may 'lead' the cabin, Athanasia does put in her two cents and beware he who does not heed her!

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💛 Ericka Yumia 💛
"An intelligent mind."
Ash has a cup of tea with Ericka Yumia every now and then. Enjoying the conversation, and picking things up from the older Half-Blood.

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👋 Zoey Kepler 👋
"Another bookish daughter of Athena."
She knows Zoey in passing thought not overly well. Friendly as she usually is Athanasia does keep trying to learn more about people, for her own reasons.

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👋 Amalia Reyes 👋
"Another target to befriend."
Athanasia finds Amalia a curious person she knows in passing. Another person she plans on befriending to her own ends.

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💛 Emily 💛
"A friend of a friend. Consider her father she has a very good eye for tea."
Athanasia is amused by Emily, she's never met anyone like her and finds the half-blood interesting. Enjoying a good spot of tea with Emily, it really is simply a relationship that is a 'friend of a friend'.

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😈 Ezekiel Kel 😈
"Kiss, kiss."
Athanasia tries to get on with people. Friends are easier to deal with than enemies, but for Zeke? Oh, his antagonistic outbursts rub her sharp temper the wrong way. So she lashes back with a sharp and cruel tongue. Something that only irks her further as she tries so hard to keep that bit of her- that cruel, vengeful side in check. Though she doles out her own brand of justice in petty, vengeful ways.

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👋 Alana Colt 👋
"Oh, la! She's a interesting one with unusual talents."
Athanasia only knows Alana in passing, though she is friendly towards the other half-blood.

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Heroes of Olympus: the Next Age of Heroes

How does she look @Nallore?

Camp Half-Blood CS

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Athanasia Theroux

Character Quote: "You can't buy love, but you can pay dearly for it."

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Character Summary

Name: Athanasia Theroux
Aliases: Ash, Athana/Athania, Theroux
Age: 10
Birthday: August 27
Ethnicity: Swedish
Birth Place: Delphi, Greece
Godly Parent: Hades
Cabin Number: Hades Cabin
How Many Years At Camp: Over a year
Gender: Female
Occupation At Camp: Camper
Languages: Ancient Greek, Swedish, English

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Appearance

Height: 4 foot 5 inches
Weight: 60 pounds
Body Type: Slim
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Pale blonde
Skin Tone: Pale white
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:
Personal Style: Athanasia, or Ash if one is familiar enough with her, is a lady of quality. She enjoys a good taste in fashion and while perhaps not the favorite person of her mother's husband- her step-father- Ash does live a comfortable life. This is relevant in her taste for dresses of a Lolita sort as she considers the current trend 'too bland' for her cuteness. Wearing reasonable skirts and, only if she must, adorable pants with equally adorable shoes. She has a arrayed a collect of purloined and carefully cared for attire. Something Athanasia is very protective over as getting replacements are not easy. Especially replaces of her many, and very different, hats and her teddybear purse. A gift from her mother.

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Psychology

Cunning * Vengeful * Passionate * Cruel * Perfectionist * Sharp

Sexuality: Demisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Athanasia can be termed in one word as adorable. She's the 'Little Lady' of the party, the type that can smile and charm. A bright and friendly person, that people feel comfortable telling their problems to despite her age. In part this is due to her persistence to 'help' and in part to the fact she is very honest and considerate. But that is merely a mask of sorts, yet friends will still come to her to cry on her shoulder and speak of their woes. Something they can do safely as Athanasia has never broken her given word. No matter what may come because of that. Breaking her word is akin to a mortal sin in Athanasia's point of her view. It would break all the reputation she's built up and her image of being the perfect little daughter. Mind you, she's ten.

Perhaps because of this she wears a very different face in her more private life away from the public eye. In private she is a vengeful spirit that wields her sharp tongue and wicked humor to great effect against any slight to her or those close to her. It is not something she reveals to many. Her sharp temper and pride are a bold streak across her young mind while her quieter and softer affections are her mask, the true affection is far more genuine. She cares deeply for those who can accept her her and embraces those rare few she lets in so far that they can see the flaws and cracks within Ash's battered heart. For all her smiles and sharp temper (the latter when pushed), Athanasia is a very delicate person at times who does need the quiet affection and companionship of good company of friends to be her cornerstone rather than her being theirs. Though she is often wary of people, fearing rejection. Either due to her tastes, her status, her Father's identity or failing to be perfect.
Habits: She has a habit of pouting when thinking or troubled and pulling her lower lip. She also has a horrible habit of giving elaborated sighs of 'Oh, La!'. Her other favorite saying is a sweet and venomous 'Kiss, kiss' and have it mean someone should go shove a knife up their butt.
Hobbies: She enjoys drawing, listening to music, collecting Lolita, tea time and taking long walks about to random places to sketch the scenery. Though, dancing and fencing come in shortly after that.
Fears:

• Breaking her word or being 'lesser' than what she could be
• Chimera
• Causing a friend's death

Likes:

• Drawing
• Nighttime
• Cats
• 'Discussing' (Her form of verbally sparring)
• Skulls (Not that she will admit this openly)
• Music

Dislikes:

• Monkeys
• People who break their word
• Those who talk down to her
• Early mornings
• Getting dirty
• Her eyes

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Skills

Demigod Abilities:

• Necromancy - As the daughter of Hades she can summon the dead, or their remains, to aid her as well speak to them. However, this makes her sensitive to when someone is dying and she often fears that she could inadvertently speed up someone's death when they are on the threshold. So she will often flee from an dying ally rather than help them.
• Umbrakensis - Control over shadows and the ability to travel through them. It is this skill she hones far more regularly than her Necromancy powers. It is on her long walks in private when she works these powers and pushes them to do more and do better. Constantly unsatisfied with her abilities and constantly degrades them and herself privately.

General Skills: (What does he or she know, must fit in within what the character knows)

• Sketching
• Dancing
• Sneaking about
• Charismatic
• Archaeology - Namely the study of bones and human anatomy
• Acrobatics

Combat Skills: (Must fit what your character knows)

• Beginner Archery
• Fencing
• Martial Arts
• Dodging

Magic Item: (It can be something like Percy's Riptide, Annabeth's invisibility cap, ect)

• Black Rose - It is described as being lighter than a broadsword, but double edged like one. Made from Stygian Iron The hilt was studded with pale gems and was topped by a green crystal. It can drain away a beings essence- life. Turning the opponent into a corpse Athanasia can use as a support. It's a bit big but she's growing into it. A gift from Hades.
• Chatters the Skull - A chattering,talking skull her powers accidentally brought about. He can't really do anything other than talk and observe the world about him. As well as move his jaw, thus gaining the name Chatter. Quiet often the unwilling participant to many of Athanasia's tea times.

What Do They Carry On Them:
This includes your clothing, jewelry, your wallet, your id, your keys; cash (denote which country), a picture, lighter, cigarettes, weapons you may carry, shoes, purse, bag, pistol and so forth. If it is not listed you are not carrying it. Again, keep it grounded in the real world. Limited to spots provided.

• Clothing - A dress generally (Or skirt with a matching blouse), with shorts, a hat, gloves on her person somewhere and generally a few sections of jewelry. Ash can be found wearing either MaryJane and some form of stockings or sandals.
• Stuffed Teddy Bear Back Pace -
• A sketchpad and pencils (with sharpeners)
• 10 dollars US, 100 Swedish krona, and 30 drachma in a skill emblazoned wallet
• A parasol to match her clothing
• Several packages of candy
• A teacup (metal)
• Several Handkerchiefs
• A MP3 player
• Several bags of tea

Possessions In Cabin:
(What Does he or she keep at their assigned cabin, anything from weapons, trophies they have take while on quests, and any other personal possessions they have.)

• A tea set
• A picture of her mother and 'Papa' (Thought its often sitting under the tea set.)
• Her other sets of Clothing
• A fencing sword
• A small practice naginata
• Several books about the human skeleton
• Several notebooks filled with sketchs
• A journal
• A world Atlas with pictures of where her mother has been.
• A small army of health and beauty products
• A large baseball bat

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History

Biography
It began in Delhi, Greece with the wail of a small child. Born in the archaeology camp there, for her mother was a foolhardy woman who loved her work a bit too much. Ryssa Theroux had always loved ancient history and even written a good few papers on the subject. The only problem was a lack of funding, so she had married into money. A wealthy man who fell for the tall and fair haired Swedish woman. Athanasia did not understand this, nor does she still. Her first memories were of travelling with her mother during the long summer months to the different archaeology camps she would go and examine. Though she never really fit in there, Athanasia had a strong respect for the history the places held and a fascination with the dead. Something that horrified her mother and many others. During the school year when her mother turned the lecturing and working from her desk, Athanasia met and entertained the 'Important Guests'. People who were business partners of her parents. It was at five years old Athanasia noticed something odd. Her Papa never smiled or really paid much attention aside when these 'Important Guests' came and never smiled at her aside from then. Knowing better than to lie to her child (for when she once did to replace a lost teddy bear, Athanasia had rejected the bear for a solid two months and had refused to speak to her mother), Ryssa settled for as much of the truth as she could give Athanasia.

Her 'Papa' was not her true father at all, but this strange and unknown 'Father' was far away and very busy. Athanasia had not known what her mother meant fully but that she was trying to explain something without delving too much. Her mother had explained to the small child that this was a secret that she must tell no one. Well! Athanasia was very good at keeping secrets, so she took on this challenge. She also was used to being told no or half of the truth, so the child took to listening at door and sneaking about the house like a ghost. She learned that her 'Papa' was hurt by her being around so she often made herself scarce to the man when she was not needed to entertain 'Important Guests' and let them comment about how darling and charming she was. Things that only resolved that little girl notion if she was perfect then she would not hurt him so much! When she heard him complain she was too perfect, that little vengeful nature shaped a grudge as she had been doing it for him and held it close. If being perfect bugged him, well then she would be all she could be and as perfect as she could be! He was the one who was never satisfied. Her mother insisted that Athanasia learn how to fight and tumble. The former she hated but was diligent on, learning karate and in her later years fencing when she commented to her mother how graceful they were. For the young half-blood already was dancing in a effort to be 'perfect' and 'charming'. The latter she learned with delight for tumbling about felt like she was flying and it was relaxing to the young-er Athanasia.

When she was seven, Athanasia had traveled with her mother to the city of New Orleans, and gotten horribly lost in the massive Saint Louis Cemetery to her mother's horror when Ryssa turned to find her child no longer there. She was found hours later near midnight sitting in one of the oldest sections. Athanasia said that her friends were playing so she had gone to listen to them. Which was written off as childish foolishness. Her mother knew the truth however. Taking Athanasia aside during that night in their hotel room, her mother informed the child of her unnamed father, Hades. Oh, Athanasia knew of the Greek Gods. Her mother was a historian after all. But Hades? Her father? Athanasia had taken three months to come to terms with it and by then she was eight. Deciding at the end of the day it didn't really matter as Hades was not here. She planted her feet and set her course to being perfect and the person she had always tried to be. Though she admitted to her mother that she would have to learn a lot more to be all she could be much to the woman's amusement. The words that she did not need to be perfect fell on her spine of iron and slid away. There was a grudge to be had against her father, but Athanasia carefully held it in check. Unsure what to make of Hades even when she met this unknown 'Father'. He gifted her with the Mávro Triantáfyllo, her sword. Something which confused her even further, though she strives for the Lord of the Dead's approval.

How Long Have They Been At Camp Half-Blood:
Athanasia came to Camp Half-Blood after a particularly bad experience with a monster. Had it not been for the self-defense lessons her mother had insisted that she take, Ash would most likely have been in deeper trouble. Constant horrors stalking her in the middle of the night, which irritated her Papa's temper and weakened her mother's pleas, developed into a full blown run for freedom from some unknown terror that Athanasia has shoved to the back of her mind. Finding the house in utter ruins and a small Athanasia curled up in her mother's small study gripping the old skull her mother had been studying with a strange boy in their house. It was one thing for a girl to have such a horrifying nightmare, but clutching a skull and a house torn to shreds? Athanasia's step father had had enough. The boy turned out to be Ryland Astrapi, the half-blood Son of Zeus and left with her paternal cousin to travel to the camp with a tearful farewell by her mother. It's been a bit over a year since and the fright of that night has only sharpened Athanasia's hatred for the monsters who would kill, harm or hunt her. Though she misses her mother terribly she does understand this is what is best for her. Which is what her mother wants. Her relationship with Ry developed from there into a sibling like relationship, though she does maintain a teeny-tiny bit of hero worship to him which she covers with snippy comments.

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Additional Information

Theme Song:

Extra Information: Egyptian Mythology, Set, Post
I agree to follow the rules for this RP and understand that if I do not follow the rules, the GM or Co-GM may kick me out of this roleplay.

[High Casual to Low Advance] [18+] Wide array!

bump

Darke Magyk - Concluded

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Rhys Asher

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Location: Esmeralda's shop

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Wiping away the projectile Esmeralda had spat at him. He wiped it with the end of one of her table cloths. His green eyes narrowing as he hissed softly. "Tread carefully, Esmeralda. My apprentice- my son's life hangs in the balance of this matter and you were a fool not to seek me out when you first found out." The man studied the woman who's bed was the more effect of her charms. It was good she had that fire, he could- and would- use it to heal his boy. While he had never thought of having a child, never considered the thought that he probably did have a few bastard seeds roaming the streets. It just had never figured into his plans.

But this! This was an insult he would answer. His apprentice who was fittingly his son and thus a worthy heir to his legacy was in danger. Normally he would expect the boy to get out of it himself, but these Sickenesse preyed on all and even he was in the hazard zone. His strides beat the drum of war as his pride led the way. Casting a firm look over his shoulder as he gripped the knob with tight knuckles. His voice lightened from a snarl into a even more dangerous croon that would normally thrill a woman. "If you had, I would have seen to it you had all you desired. I still might- for him." The Rogue Wizard jerked his head. "I won't kill you Esmeralda, there are worse fates. For the sake of my son I spare you. I value his life, I won't lie on that. But be warned... If you cross me, it will not end well. Come. Your son awaits." It was not much, but at least he could try and see if the pathetic witch had any ideas. With this new revelation he would tear down the Wizard Tower brick by brick and wring the blood of every person in the Castle from their corpses to see his heir healed and well.

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Skaoi Silverveil

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Location: Infirmity

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Skaoi gripped Tristan as he began to lie down. The poison was still in him, and she didn't want him sleeping heavily. Her pale eyes glanced about sharply as the woman made a lunge across a table weighed down with notes, a few that went floating to the floor due to her actions. But there was a triumph gleam as the woman gripped her prize, a sewing needle. While Tristan was falling asleep making it ever so much harder to get antidotes into him, Skaoi was going to make sure he was aware enough to swallow at least. Gripping the Prince's hand she stabbed him sharply with the shiny implement namely for sewing- or in this case keeping poisoned princlings awake.

Just for good measure she gave him too sharp slaps on the cheek and pinched his nose close. Her pale blue eyes wide at what she was doing and who to! But surely his life was worth these small indignities. "Stay awake, Your Highness." The physik practically commanded as she hovered about the Prince, pressing the cup of antidote to his lips and urging him to drink. "You must drink this. Don't you dare fall asleep!" Her whisper soft voice was a calming, soothing tone that was incredibly motherly. Often people wondered why Skaoi didn't have a husband with her looks and children with her attitude, but Skaoi saw such happiness and thought she did not deserve it. Not after that fiasco.

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Grimspound

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Location: Aricie

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Grimspound's dark hair ruffled in the wind as he looked up as Minerva as her hand wove through the air in a beckon of recognition. The water and light about his hand that he had been toying with shifted as the man pulled himself from the depths of his own mind. The paths were many and curious. Each one unraveling into more questions, more wonders that he had yet to find answers for. Long legs moved him across the deck with a panther's grace. His sea legs had been quickly found within the first week aboard the ship, if only so he didn't look like a fool. The thought made Grimspound expression break out into a wry smile, as he bowed slightly awkwardly due to the tilting of the ship to the girl whose accent placed her from the northern lands. In a proffered hand was a enchanting flower like none other that could be found. The petals made from ice, and light flickering from the bud in the center. Really it was a minor feat, one that would melt within the hour at this temperatures with how fragile the ice was.

"Minerva Frost, as I live and breath." He greeted with a wink of amusement. He had met the girl before and they had shared a bit of conversation. A mundane thing really, but she was a interesting site aboard this ship. A puzzle he was trying to solve, just as everyone was. His chuckle rolled over the waves in amusement. "And my dear, you know enough of me to be well aware I shall always have a book upon my person." In fact, in a few of the taverns he was well known in (mainly those about the Dyrki village where he grew up) it was often joked upon that if he was without a book in hand, then dire things were afoot. Namely a woman was out for his skin.

Let something happen once, you hear about it the rest of your life.

Shaking his head, the man leaned against the railing and gazed up at the crow's nest and the man within. He was a handsome fellow, and Grimspound found himself contemplating seducing the man just to see what would happen. To see what made Ahote tick. "Why, you ought to come down!" The scholar called up to their lookout with a inviting grin. "Join the conversation without the rest of us getting crinks in out necks. Especially the ladies, I hear their heads can get stuck like that." The wry grin was in full force after the slight dig at the smaller girl at his side as Grimspound turned about just enough to observe the port. Soon. Soon he would have answers and more knowledge at his fingertips. There was a fire of interest in his emerald eyes as he cast a longing look towards their destination.

~Nyte Bloods~

Alice nodded absently and murmured an assent to the food. It hardly mattered either way to the tailor. All she could taste was the bitter loss. She could be eating cardboard and Alice doubted she would notice. But the second question made her grow quiet considering the fact the last time she had seen a certain patron at the bar she had flung a very hate filled, albeit desperate, insult in the werewolf's face.

"Conner?" She puzzled. Dalton was the friend she had chased away with quite figuratively a big stick. Though it had been to escape a brutal scene, Alice still felt guilty over that. "I'm not sure." She admitted, Thought the prospect of leaving the apartment terrified her, she didn't think she could remain inside much longer. "But... perhaps. Perhaps I'll go."

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Richard Laine

Location Cells

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"You are coming if I have to drag you out of here myself, Thalia." The Adder snarled at the woman as he grabbed the human agent by his neck and shoved him towards Thalia's cell. Leveling the gun at the man's butt. While it wasn't the usual target, the fact he was all too willing to pull the trigger would have warned any man to tread carefully. "Unlock her cell." The assassin snarled deeply in his throat.

Though Richard did shoot Allison an amused look, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "Girl's got bite." The British accented voice noted as the man studied his captive. The hand not holding the gun, frisking the man with efficient movements. This was not the first time he had done such, doubtlessly it would not be the last. Some days he wished it would be, but heck. Sometimes it was fun to watch the fools twist about in terror. "Allison, get those door open if you can and keep them intact if you can. Should be bullet proof. We could use them as shields."

Ayita Dyrkin

Location Cells

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Watching Dean yelp like a wounded pup and scramble back, his limbs failing about as he tried to kick her away. In all honestly, Ayita had flinched back as well. A habitual jerk when something went flying towards her face. Survival instinct. Rubbing at the graze on her cheek the woman frowned at Dean. "There is no reason to touch your eyelids. You are awake and aware." The Dyrkin shook her head at the young man's foolish nature. Dean was a odd duck that was for sure, and she was talking.

Looking at Allison she raised a brow at her friend's harsh words. "I approve, and agree. Though I do hope my powers return soon." The Dyrki woman noted with a gleam of fury at the human as her brother shoved him towards the dragon-woman's cell door and searched him. Part of her hoped he would shoot the man, but it was a small part. One that was still feeling the rage of her brother's supposed death. A hard thing for the younger shifter to deal with. That horror gave her chills even now as it haunted her.

Darke Magyk - Concluded

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Rhys Asher

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Location: Esmeralda's shop

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"So his name is Fayard..." The Rogue Wizard mused as he studied the furious Witch. She was angry and rightfully so, but he couldn't help but be a bit irritated she wasn't answering his questions. Still gripping the palm reader's wrists fast the man growled deeply. "Reading of your thoughts, to find the boy I into my home I brought." If this didn't work then he'd get the answers he sought another way. His eyes were cold as the spell began it's work. Showing him facts he wished he could erase from his mind as he let the Disguise Spell end.

Fayard, Badger... The boy was his son. "My son. Esmerelda. You left my son with your good for nothing brother." The dangerous tone of his voice was a sharp hiss as he whispered into Esmerelda's ear. His other hand wrapping about her throat as they tightened. "Tell me he is alive so I can kill him myself." He snarled, shoving the woman off him and standing as he released Esmerelda's throat and shook her like a rag doll. Keeping her wrists in his grasp, the Wizard shoved his hand through his hair as he let out a too soft sigh. "Close your shop for the day. I'll take you to your son, stupid wench. Our son has the Sicknesse. Something I have been trying to cure." He hissed, his green eyes dark with fury, a clear warning the woman would be wise not to test him. Not after this.

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Skaoi Silverveil

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Location: Infirmity

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Skaoi gave Lyra a quick nod of her head. "Please, inform her. It would not do for this Sicknesse to continue to spread. Anything we can do to stem this horror." The woman quickly turned her attention back to her patient, concern fixed over her pale features. Pulling out a handkerchief she gently dabbed at the tears. "If it is any conciliation, it appeared to be fast and he didn't- It was quick. He did not linger." Death was never pleasent, never pretty. But the poor lad out in the hall had gone quickly and didn't waste away in an agony like so many about infirmary. Her thoughts were disrupted as Princess Luna came in and apologized.

"Princess this is an infirmary, I would request that you bath and change before you enter again." The Physik practically order with a tone of deference in her voice. She was correct as the infirmary was a place for sanitary, which vomit wasn't. As she watched the woman walk away she pressed the tea cup into Prince Tristan's hand and raised it to his lips. "Drink." The woman advised as she busied about brewing together a slight compress for shock. Talking almost absently to herself, if it wasn't for the fact her pale eyes were holding Tristan's fast. "That was not a request, Your Highness. I can work and make you better but only if you follow my routine. I can fix many things, but I cannot fix what truly hurts now." Laying a hand on his shoulder, Skaoi pressed a wet cloth to the lad's forehead. "Please rest, but do not encourage or use magyk."

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Grimspound

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Location: Aricie

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The waves rolled and lapped at the sides of the ship as the Aricie plowed through the waters, her sails snapping in a breeze that smelled of salt and brine. Perched on a barrel near the rail, a book in a slim fingered hand that would belong to an artist rather than a warrior a young man studied the contents of the pages. Or pretended to. The bits and snippets of gossip flittered past like the spray of the sea. It was hardly a appropriate place to read a book, but he had sent a spare back home to his mother's clan. Plus, it was a fairly common book written by a sub-par author. It was the mind of the author- the sheer stupidity of this man- he was trying to wrap his own about. All his other books, better reads by far!, were below in the hold within his trunk. Needless to say Grimspound was grateful for the cries of gulls and the relieved sigh of those who were not so at ease with sea voyage.

Looking out over the rail with his deep green eyes, he stretched his neck and listened to the bones pop in relief. His name was Jazen Grimspound Dyrki of the Dyrki Clan. A group of women- and those men who were born into the family- who lived in the Land of Long Nights. A land that was as harsh as their ancestors. His grandmother was still a creaking old woman who was far too fast with her cane in hand then she had right to be, according to his mischievous cousins. The matriarch of the clan, the old woman had been the midwife at his birth. Not to mention she had been the one to prod him to go to the 'Small Wet Country'. He ached to feel earth beneath his feet again and though that could be achieved quite easily, he didn't want to scare the other passengers. He was not like them.

He would never be like them.

His auburn hair had begun to darken years ago, as childhood left him, turning to black. It was not a uncommon thing, a few distant cousins and people he had met in his travels hair shifted darker during the winter months or with age. Amused with the thought, Grimspound considered what he would look like with silver hair for a minute. A old, stern man striking a formal and most definitely regal pose. Of course he wouldn't have one those ridiculously long beards. Though it was an entertaining thought. Snapping his attention back to the book, the man rubbed his hand and felt young skin and saw black hair still fall through his fingers. For all he had mastered shape-shifting, it was not wise to tempt fate. Yet a friendly, if slightly cocky smile graced his features as he stored the book in jacket pocket. Small enough to fit. Fit enough to burn- though he wouldn't. Such a thing would be utterly foolish.

Standing, the man peered at the approaching Port. "A port at last, and here I was thinking of growing fins and making a life amongst the fishes." His voice was a soothing jest that was spoken more to himself than anyone else as he studied the approaching land in earnest. What would await him. What knowledge could he obtain? Already his collect was quite extensive, yet he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to know more, see more. It was a urging he could not deny. Power? It was useless without knowledge. Knowledge would grant tenfold the power. Of course that was a scholar's point of view, but Grimspound was a scholar was scholar if nothing else. Letting an arm dangle over the railing, he yanked up a small palm of salt water through magyk inherited from his father. For all he was an adult, it still fascinated and amazed him. Slowly drops spilled away til he was left with one the size of a large marble and fixed it between two hands. Shaping it to mist, water, ice and back again. Swirling the streams about like needle work as he had done when he was younger during long winter months. Absently he let the water twisted and turn as he wandered the paths of his mind bits of light reflecting off the surface into small rainbows when the liquid caught it right. Listing off what all he had heard of the Small Wet Country, and was hearing from the conversations about him.

Darke Magyk - Concluded

Jazen Grimspound Dyrki

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Jazen Grimspound Dyrki

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Character Summary

Name: Jazen Grimspound Dyrki
Darke Name: Nezaj
Age: 24
Birthday: November 4
Birthplace: Land of Long Nights - The Dyrki Clan
Residence: Temporary Quarters on the Aricie
Gender: Male
Culture: The Land of Long Nights
Education: Self-taught Mage, Scholar
Position: Rogue Adventure
Alignment: Chaotic Good

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Appearance

Height: 6 foot 2 inches
Weight: 175~ pounds
Build: Lean and athletic
Eyes: Emerald Green
Hair: Dark Auburn that is turning black
Skin Tone: Slightly tanned
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: He has several scars from the missteps of his youth. Scratches and bites of various animals. A rather large burn wrapping around his side when he accidentally blew a hole in the side of his mother's home. This is covered by a array of tattoos. Depicting the various stages of his life in small pictures within the banner work. From his birth to his accomplishments. He can make it disappear at will, per his gifts from his father, but he makes the effort to keep it while in his actual form. Goodness knows what his cousin would do if she had to fix it again.
Personal Style: Lavish, yet practical. An odd combination for the Land of Long Night. In his youth he wore the leathers and furs similar to many of his people, yet as he travelled about mainly to different cities outside of the Land he took to the less fuzzy clothing. Sleeker and more respectable. Grimspound has a eye for comfort, but he will get down and dirty if he needs to and he expects those clothes he wears daily (and not for comfort) to be able to handle his traveling life style. Study boots, thight pants and a comfortable shirt under a vest and coat/cloak. He generally wears whatever color and isn't too picky. Though he had a love of silver, amber, crimson and greeen. Tending to stay away from brighter colors. If he's going to be in a possible fight he generally wears leathers. He does however have a thick cloak he wears sometimes, made of wolf and lynx fur.

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Psychology

Friendly * Presistent * Intelligent * Willfull * Cunning * Trickster

Sexuality: Polyamorous
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: What is there to say of Grimspound? He is a trickster through and through, though he is also a scholar at heart. Books fascinate him and he keeps collecting and shipping more back to his home among the women of the Dyrki clan. A restless wanderer, he seeks ground to slake his thirst for knowledge and the constant need to understand things. A lonely, loving traveler. He enjoys the company of others and the simple joys of life- as well as those incidents he happens to leave behind him. Nothing serious, things anyone would get a good laugh out of after a bit. After all, he does realize he is going to need to pass through again probably.

Cheerful and friendly, Grimspound is the sort to start fiddling and dancing on the table to get the folk laughing. But that is not to say he is without his temper. A cold and dangerous thing that can sleep for years only to stir awake in defense of his friends or kin. Rarely does it wake for Grimspound himself as he generally laughs off the curses life throws at him, choosing to work his way through them rather than complain. A lesson he learned from his mother's folk. But it is known among the Dyrki that his temper is honed by his intelligence. A cold mind that when made to turn to the machinations of the defender- or the attacker- he can be ruthless and brutal in his towering rage. It is then he acts without empathy or remorse. A dagger to defend his mother's people and his father's honor as he sees fit.

Habits: Playing about with his magic idly, catching cat-naps, and telling tall tales. He also enjoys spinning lies to confuse his name and his origins.
Hobbies: He enjoys reading, working out problems, hunting, fishing and wandering about listening to people gossip.
Fears:

• Not being able to return to the Dyrki
• Doing something unforgivable in one of his cold rages.
• Centipedes

Likes:

• Books and knowledge in general
• Hunting/fishing
• Eavesdropping
• Entertaining people
• Rainy days
• Good company

Dislikes:

• Those who dismiss knowledge
• Those who insult him
• Bugs in general
• Having to repeat himself
• Those who can't lighten up and smile.
• Being cheated (Though he enjoys cheating others)

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Cards On The Table

General Skills:

• Slight of Hand - User is skilled in fine motor skills when used by performing artists in different art forms to entertain or manipulate. It is closely associated with close-up magic, card magic, card flourishing and stealing.
• Charisma - User has compelling attractiveness or charm that can inspire devotion in others.
• Shapeshifting - Any gender and any form the size of a human.
• Translation - The ability to translate between various modern languages. Users are proficient in all languages commonly spoken at the Castle. This does not include more uncommon languages, such as Serbian.
• Sense Magyk - The ability to detect Magykal auras and See enchantments. This is a passive skill.
• Asgardian Magyk - The innate talent to utilize the Magyk of the Norse gods; best results come after practice and study yet the raw power is always there.
• Intuition - the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.

Cultural Skills:

• Country Knowledge (the Lands of Long Nights) - The knowledge of the general geography of the Lands of Long Nights. This includes the ability to find a path from one location to another, as well as a knowledge of the culture and customs of that country.
• New Nordic - The user has complete fluency, able to read, write, and communicate in the language of the Land of Long Nights. This skill can be used as a makeshift oral storytelling skill, as most of the traditions of the Land of Long Nights are told through stories.
• Olde Tongue - The user has complete fluency, able to read, write, and communicate in the Olde Tongue of the Land of Long Nights. This skill can be used as a makeshift mythos skill, as the user will be familiar with famous texts written in the Olde Tongue, such as the Prose Edda.

Occupational Skills:

• Persuasion - The ability to convince someone of something, whether it is true or false.
• Cartography - The study and practice of making maps. Users are proficient in communicating spatial information, as well as knowledgeable of minor restorative techniques for damaged maps.
• Rooftop running/climbing - Parkour! The user has proficiency in scaling vertical objects, as well as keeping footing on elevated and uneven terrain.
• Perception - The ability to notice things that others may overlook. This does not include items and beings of Magykal origin. For that, see Sense Magyk.
• Blend - The ability to blend into a large group of people and effectively disappear, becoming one of many.
• Climbing - The ability to scale a steep object without falling to an early death (most likely, anyways...)
• Sneaking - The ability to gain access to secure locations without detection.

What Is On Your Person:

• Bow
• A set of knives (Boot, wrist, waist)
• A small kit for first aid
• The book he's currently reading
• A journal and writing untensil
• A hidden pouch with money
• A fiddle

Residence:

• A large pack with various basic travelling equiptment
• A large crate of books ready to be shipped back to the Dyrki.
• Several maps
• A sword
• Several private journals about his travels
• Trinkets from his travels
• A trunk of clothing, lavish and furs and leathers.

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History

Your Path: This is the path his feet and heart too him. The wind calls and he beckons. Leaving his home was the only logical choice as he had learned all he could there. There was nothing else to keep him, so Grimspound left and set out on his own. Despite his very self-relying mother's worrying. Apparently it's not wise to point such out as he had to skip away from the irate woman.

General History: Born to Tersa Dyrki, Jazen Grimspound Dyrki was named and set in his mother's arms by his grandmother. The Dyrki were a matrilineal family, their name passed from mother to daughter and from mother to son. Or so that was claimed. His people were his many cousins and mother, aunts and grandmother. The latter being the matriarch of the small clan. Grimspound never knew his name as anything other than Grimspound, and no one called him otherwise. 'Grim' was his name and he accepted it. Just as the boy accepted the strange man who appeared every year for only one night before leaving. As he accepted his mother calling him Jazen. Odd little things that the boy paid no mind to as he studied the games of the other children and outwitted them. For he was a child and innocent in the matters of grown ups. He was four when he decided to decipher the book his mother read to him from. Needless to say, he managed it to his mother's shock.

From then on, he knew he was different. It wasn't obvious- yet- but he knew other children would have given up and gone to play. But not Grimspound. He was young and thirsting for this knowledge that others seemed to find boring. During the rainy days and winter months while he learned how to spin wool, he listened to his grandmother tell him tales and lessons on the world. He watched the smith work their forges and the fishers bring in their haul. Those fleeting days of being four and playing games behind him as he was five- then six- and learning to cast a line and hook a snare. The other children taunted and laughed, thought him odd. Yet Grimspound laughed with them and agreed. He was odd. He enjoyed this 'work'. There was so much around him and he could not grasp it all fast enough. Tersa watched with cunning eyes as her child grew and she took him into the wilds at seven. There she taught him how to hunt and kill, how to wield a knife and bow. He was young still but Grimspound strove to learn what he could. To master what was offered to him. The boy learned the words that would hurt someone and the words that would heal as he watched his kin go about their lives. The stranger- his father his mother told him- still came on that one day every year and Grimspound never pried past polite questions. Though there were dozens of questions brimming behind his green eyes, yet to speak wrong would hurt or make the man leave as he had seen others do in the village.

He did aim these questions to his mother and grandmother when nothing but an answer would sate him. They, to their credit, answered honestly. Why did the man not stay as other fathers did? Their answer was simple, where would he? He had no cabin and he was of the Dyrki. It was not that they would not have him, but like the other men this one would come and go. Was it truly so strange? Grimspound was puzzled but did see the sense of it. So the years passed, so the seasons turned. Grimspound grew from child to youth and magic and shapeshifting came to him. His relatives buried him with books, and whatever else could be of use. Eyes that had by passed him as 'Grimspound' now found interest in the lithe form of a boy that was becoming a man. Though few advances were made outside of playful flirtations. No, for Grimspound's nose was firmly in his book as he mastered his magick and shapeshifting. Relentlessly he practiced and studied, his friends and family nearly have to break down his door to get him to stop to enjoy the day in those early days. It was during of his experiences Grimspound found he needed to study near water as when he accidentally exploded his mother's wall and badly injured himself. He learned to be careful and he learned to relax for a miscalculation from lack of sleep had been the cause. Not that anyone let him forget that. He learned the sword from a cousin and how to play the fiddle from an aunt. From his older sister he learned to slip through shadows unseen and the art of sleight of hand.

He was sixteen, just having become a man, when he first felt that towering rage. He had gone with a group of aunts and cousins on a trip to another village for trade and they were attacked by bandits. The first arrows surprised them and his lost an aunt and two cousins. Another was cut down by a sword before Grimspound felt that towering rage of cold fury. Oh, it was just fine if they wanted to shoot him. But his family? The Dyrki? They would learn their mistake. Grimspound rose from the wagon and unleashed a slaughter along side the other fighters. He had learned to hunt as a shapeshifter and killing men hadn't been all that difficult with fangs or with magic. Albeit these men were badly equipt bandits. Forcing that cold rage back, Grimspound wanted to weep for what he had done, yet the fury for those who had died because of those men stopped his tears from falling. His mother and grandmother wrapped him in their love and acceptance and Grimspound learned over the course of a year to accept that power brought such horrors about- and that sometimes it was necessary. "When there is trouble, pound on Grim's door." So was the saying of his village and with good reason.

He was twenty when he took to the road, having learned everything he could from his family and friends. Having felt the need to wander. The pull to travel. He could not deny it and he did not. The years spent on the road honed his silver tongue and his sharp mind. Sword, bow, knife and magic were honed as well as Grimspound ruthlessly practiced. His purse filled and emptied as he fiddled for his supper and sang tales to the audience. As he bought books and shipped them home. As he studied the workings of the world and took pleasure in it.

Thoughts on Sickenesse: He's not sure what to think of it other than the fact that he does not care for it. It worries him, but he also understands it's a plague like any other. While he would normally avoid the town he is drawn to it. Hoping it will not be his doom. He does want to find a cure in case it pops up among his mother's folk.

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Extras

Character Quote: "My darling, and dashing gents. I am Grimspound. I am gifted to have met you."
Theme Song:
Anything Else: Gandalf : Posts
_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.}

Relationships- Book Two

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The Scroll

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Jazen Grimspound Dyrki

"It is good to see that you are well, I hope."

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣️Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨️Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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🌓Neutral Arya Rincewind 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Queen Valda 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Cuyler Eysteinsson 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Fluer La Malificurm 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Princess Luna 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Atkin Bowman 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Rhys Asher 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Myrus Marcellus Silvers 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Amarantha 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Sylvi the Bard 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral [color=F0OAE2]Myth the Muse[/color] 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Bruce Banner 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Marcellus Dumont 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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🌓Neutral Tristan Alvissen 🌓Neutral
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
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Blood's Jewels (Closed)

Blood's Jewels

“Terreille in Trouble”

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Faeril Ashkevron

Location - Ashkevron Residence in Askavi

Faeril looked stunned as the Grey Jeweled Queen slipped past her out into the rain despite the sharp hiss of protest from the Black Widow-Healer. Watching as the Queen pulled the strange Eyriend Warlord Prince's face down to eye level with hers. She could not make out their eyes but a sudden surge of dislike towards the male ran through her. Perhaps that dislike did stem from the fact he was a handsome man and Fatima was the one looking like she found a lost puppy. But Faeril had seen enough Queens with that tone of voice in her youth to recognize what was playing out before her.

Will she or not, this was a member of Fatima's court that would form to stop the taint of Hayll. Folding her wings, the Eyrien woman stepped out to collect Andressa, keeping a close eye on the Queen and Warlord Prince. If he made the wrong move, she would strike and may the Darkness have mercy on him. "Lovely and all, but let us get in out of the rain. And no, Fatima. I am still going to conduct the same search on him I did on you. Else he can stay outside." Touching Andressa's hand the woman let some of her Healing Craft sooth the aches and bruises. Her voice much more gentle from the tartness it held before as she spoke to the woman. "Come. There is warmth and food, and your injuries will no longer ache." Faeril soothed.

@13org The barkeep took a step back, his wing stretching out slightly in an attempt to appear larger. With a snarl, the man cursed Mikhail soundly. But he did realize this wasn't a time to fight. Something warned him off, and that something was years of experience. Old he was, but he had a reason why he lived to get that way. "Ashkevron Residence, though I suggest you wait til morning. The woman is a grouchy bat, and she'll take your head off if you don't give her the proper respect." Though he hoped that the Black Widow would take this one's head off anyways. Lad damn well deserved it.

@nohbdies The man nodded in relief. "Ashkevron Residence, in Aren." He pressed two tankards of ale int Vaclav's hands. "On the house." The man turned away before the Dhemlan could ask more. Busying himself with other customers.

The woman patted Artemis's arm gently. "It is alright dear. The paths entwine to the tapestry."