There'd been voices once. He remembered. Calling him Earth GIver, Great God, Sacrifice... They'd taken his stone while he slept, Cut into his back and carved through his ribs, taken out his heart. Or perhaps they'd cracked his skull and stolen his mind. He did not know. He'd meant to sleep for a thousand years, perhaps he had, the world he'd awakened to had been one of utter darkness, stirred only by distant words beseeching him. Formalised into prayer. He was not a god, yet they prayed to him, offering gratitude or further wishes. The first he appreciated, though he could do nothing with it, and the second he could do nothing about.
He could not even move. There was a tightening about his limbs that did not even allow him to turn his head. He could not close his eyelids.
Aylen found himself locked in a panicked struggle to do just that for a time that seemed beyond counting, but at the same moment, the short length of a blink. He could not understand what had happened, but he did know that his body was no longer his, and that whatever held him now was far too small, and immobile, to be of any use. As his struggles continued, the voices faded, the knowledge they brought of the seasons passing, and his people growing, drifted into a darkness his eyes could not pierce. It was strange, to be aware of himself and at once trapped beyond his senses. He could touch nothing, he could see nothing, he could smell and taste nothing... And after a time, there was nothing to hear as well. So he struggled alone.
As he could not tell the passing time, he did not know how long he spent simply trying to move something, anything at all. But even that boon could not keep him stubbornly set against his prison. Eventually, he stopped trying.
The moment he was no longer trying to define himself through movement, the constrictions eased. His mind relaxed, and the world around him opened up. There was still nothing to see or feel or hear, but there was space. He could sense that much, if little else. Maybe there was nothing else. He'd given up his body to a people that needed it more. That he could still think was miracle enough. It was a miracle he did not appreciate. He had not planned for millenia with nothing to do. The idea of being trapped, immobile, within nothing, weighed on him as heavily as his earlier paralysis, but with unexpected results. Rather than constricting his mind, or presence, feeble as it was, it squeezed it outward, and he felt stretched. Pulled and tugged and twisted, thoughts abraded into worthless segments of emotion and instinct until there was no more space, but an infinite abundance of chaos. None of it belonged to him.
There were edges and folds and reverberations, ripples in colour and waves of sound. It took him further into time deciphering the mess, until he discovered a single, vehement presence among the rest. Pure and shaped, faceted and singing a low sweet harmony in discord with one cracked tone. Stones. Precious gems, flawed but priceless, even the one that had chipped some time ago. With that focus, he slipped to the next realisation, feeling a strange flatness of wood that was meant to be round. It was carved flooring, weighted down and pierced with metal into an emptiness below. Every new discovery lead to a greater one, Aylen's mind burgeoning with freedom throughout the house walls, feeling footsteps and weighing walls with nails holding up fired sand, sheets of thin metal, carved stone, cold outside and layered brick walls. And yet, though he could creep through everything that came from the earth, though he could have laid out a plan of the house in every other detail, including the hidden rooms and second cellar, he could not have said who the people were within it, nor what half the metal he could feel did, hot or cold or stirring of what seemed its own accord. Nor, and this struck him sore, could he have said what faces hid behind the glass. And though he could feel streets beyond the wall, he could not go to them.
He was trapped in the highest room of the building, surrounded by other things that did not mind the gathering layers of dust, nor the light thread of spider's silk winding around their sides. And that was well and good, for he recognised items that, although he could not see them, had no use other than to collect dust and provide a home for arachnids insofar as he could tell. He did not belong. And it was a curious thing, for he could not feel himself, nor the thing that contained him. Without the memory of pushing through it, he would not even have realised it was hard stone. He could not feel the striation of layers pressed together by some heavy force in the beginning of time. He could not see the smoothed edges worn shiny by so many groping fingers. He'd been turned into an idol, two foot high and delightfully posed stepping free of his pedestal. It was a crude rendering, when compared with many of the surrounding valuables and artefacts, but the artist had captured the elemental well enough to trap him within the depiction of a bearded old traveller. Had he been capable of it, Aylen might have paused in his desire for escape to find humour in the little spider hanging from his nose. As it was, he sought only some explanation, and a means of freedom.
Nemaisare Member
- Last Seen: 2 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Nemaisare
- Joined: 13 yrs ago
- Posts: 1070 (0.23 / day)
- VMs: 6
-
Username history
- Nemaisare 13 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
cottonferret,
Festive,
Hope Lover,
Mjolnir,
vue2026,
RPM,
Vampiretwilight,
Krasnaya,
ppppppp,
Not a Sayan
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Lol, the post is still coming, one sentence at a time, I am soo sorry it's taking me this long.
We're getting folkses. Yay!
Whoo!
Whoo!
Doodeedoo here we go, time to start posting.
Short person! Looking good. :D
Character sheet
Name: Lacchi
Age: 37
Appearance: As a human, and it isn’t likely that anyone is going to see him like this often, Lacchi has the same, dark, flashingly curious eyes, but really, he doesn’t look much like a dog. He could, if one felt like being impolite, term him as being a mutt in that he doesn’t resemble any particular race and is just, well, human… He is lithe and lean, muscular but not well muscled or overly defined in that way and his body is geared more towards stealth and slinking quietly through shadows than it is towards making quick, frightening first impressions on folks. He is quite short, approximately 5’5”, 5’6” or thereabouts, but looks taller, so long as there’s no one around to compare, because of his lankiness. He has long limbs and, despite the years, hasn’t gained much in weight. With a golden tinge to his fairly pale skin, he doesn’t match up with the light skinned races or the dark skinned races. His hair, a light brown, is short and curly and he has the sort of confident grace of one who trusts his body’s abilities to take him away from trouble but uses his mind to direct it rather than instinct.
Head,
Left side,
Right side
Background/history: Lacchi was born and raised a wild lad. His father leaving him to his own devices more often than not after his mother died. It wasn’t for the sake of not wanting to spend time with him; more simply it was that he had very little spare time already. Lacchi’s father was a locksmith, well known if not well paid. He was a good man, gentle, honorable, loving and a master of his trade. He taught his son all he knew of locks and took him as his apprentice. He was a busy man, however, and more often than not was away or unable to give his son the attention he required.
So Lacchi played in the streets, and he befriended a nice lady who just happened to be a pick pocket. She liked his attitude and, more to the point, his nimble fingers and quick mind. She taught him what she knew and so he learned both sides of life. The hardships and the love, both in the law and outside it. When his father died he was thirteen and not old enough to look after the business, it was sold to the highest bidder and he was forgotten about. The pick pocket took him in, gave him what shelter she could along with further teachings. Lacchi learned quickly and well, the lessons embedding themselves in his mind to remain forever remembered. By fourteen she had him breaking into houses and stealing objects of greater value than what was on the streets, he knew locks better than she did and he could slip through smaller places. He never felt guilty about the stealing and never will.
His father had taught him patience by example and Lacchi did not lack of it, he could wait for as long as he needed before starting something and he very rarely did anything rash. He was determined to be the best at what he did, and he liked doing it, the heists were exciting, dangerous and every bit his kind of adventure. Quick, clever and never one to give up a challenge, Lacchi did become known among the rather secretive thieves guild as good, and, a bit more dangerously, he was also known among the city guards. He eluded most of the traps they set for him, though they managed to catch him once and got him chained in a cell to await his punishment. Fortunately, the guards had not found his lock picks when they searched him, so he was free and vanished at the next change of guard. Later, he returned for the knives they had taken from him and slipped away again. It was this feat that had him hiding in a stable when a girl, around his age, began her chores.
She was not a great beauty, in fact, she was rather plain, but it was her spirit that he saw, and that was more beautiful than any mortal face. She was singing as she worked and he watched quietly, listening and admiring. Lacchi left gifts for her, nothing that he had stolen, for that would only get her in trouble, and soon he showed himself to her. She has since told him of that first sight she had of him, a brown-eyed youth with a confident smile and cat-like grace, rough voiced and wild, but a man purely himself and nothing else. She had seen a rogue, but not a scoundrel and she had loved him from the first, just as he had her. Within that year, his nineteenth, they were wed and living in the small house Lacchi had bought with the money he had saved up. Though she never could quite convince him to forget his thieving ways, she did extract the promise that he wouldn’t do anything more dangerous than picking pockets.
In their second year together, Sara gave birth to a daughter who became the light of their lives. She had Lacchi’s bright, brown eyes and her mother’s beautiful voice when she laughed, but all too soon that happy life came to an end. Kari caught pneumonia and the doctors they could afford could do nothing. In desperation, Lacchi found himself on the roof of a rich merchant, his gear in his hands and his patience for once abandoned. Slipping quietly over the side, he caught his foot on a window ledge and dropped lightly down to come face to face with the owner of the house. He ran, but the merchant was rich enough to have competent guards and they caught him easily enough.
He didn’t want to reveal his reason for being there as it could have gotten both Sara and Kari in trouble and the man, though he probably would have forgiven Lacchi had he known, felt that proper punishment was due. He turned Lacchi into a dog and took away his mind so that he was, in every way, nothing more than a dog that had strange dreams at night. On his seventh year as a dog, the man tried to restore Lacchi to his humanity, but couldn’t quite come up with the proper spell. He managed to give him back his memories and his own mind, but Lacchi remained a dog, albeit one who occasionally turned into a human. Still, with his memories restored, he hurried back to his house only to find his daughter dead and his wife remarried. It was a shock, but not an unexpected one. He still doesn't know what she thinks happened to him, he was too afraid to spend more than an afternoon watching her. He strayed about the city, living on scraps for a year before hunger, and curiousity brought him to investigate the Emperor's grounds. He slipped in among the other dogs there and, while the kennel masters knew he wasn't one of theirs, they let him stay when he proved well-mannered and without disease. Not to mention, he kept coming back when they tried kicking him out. Two years after he first snuck in, the young Queen of Alcea appeared.
Skills: A good locksmith and pickpocket, is a little rusty at breaking and entering
Fast, with good endurance
Is better at fighting as a dog than a human, but pretty good at bluffing either way
Has learned how to act like a dog, and make use of his heightened senses
Something else?: Lacchi will shift between dog to human once every second or third night, he has no control of it himself, and it happens between dusk and dawn. Unfortunately for him, he usually has no clothes.
Name: Lacchi
Age: 37
Appearance: As a human, and it isn’t likely that anyone is going to see him like this often, Lacchi has the same, dark, flashingly curious eyes, but really, he doesn’t look much like a dog. He could, if one felt like being impolite, term him as being a mutt in that he doesn’t resemble any particular race and is just, well, human… He is lithe and lean, muscular but not well muscled or overly defined in that way and his body is geared more towards stealth and slinking quietly through shadows than it is towards making quick, frightening first impressions on folks. He is quite short, approximately 5’5”, 5’6” or thereabouts, but looks taller, so long as there’s no one around to compare, because of his lankiness. He has long limbs and, despite the years, hasn’t gained much in weight. With a golden tinge to his fairly pale skin, he doesn’t match up with the light skinned races or the dark skinned races. His hair, a light brown, is short and curly and he has the sort of confident grace of one who trusts his body’s abilities to take him away from trouble but uses his mind to direct it rather than instinct.
Head,
Left side,
Right side
Background/history: Lacchi was born and raised a wild lad. His father leaving him to his own devices more often than not after his mother died. It wasn’t for the sake of not wanting to spend time with him; more simply it was that he had very little spare time already. Lacchi’s father was a locksmith, well known if not well paid. He was a good man, gentle, honorable, loving and a master of his trade. He taught his son all he knew of locks and took him as his apprentice. He was a busy man, however, and more often than not was away or unable to give his son the attention he required.
So Lacchi played in the streets, and he befriended a nice lady who just happened to be a pick pocket. She liked his attitude and, more to the point, his nimble fingers and quick mind. She taught him what she knew and so he learned both sides of life. The hardships and the love, both in the law and outside it. When his father died he was thirteen and not old enough to look after the business, it was sold to the highest bidder and he was forgotten about. The pick pocket took him in, gave him what shelter she could along with further teachings. Lacchi learned quickly and well, the lessons embedding themselves in his mind to remain forever remembered. By fourteen she had him breaking into houses and stealing objects of greater value than what was on the streets, he knew locks better than she did and he could slip through smaller places. He never felt guilty about the stealing and never will.
His father had taught him patience by example and Lacchi did not lack of it, he could wait for as long as he needed before starting something and he very rarely did anything rash. He was determined to be the best at what he did, and he liked doing it, the heists were exciting, dangerous and every bit his kind of adventure. Quick, clever and never one to give up a challenge, Lacchi did become known among the rather secretive thieves guild as good, and, a bit more dangerously, he was also known among the city guards. He eluded most of the traps they set for him, though they managed to catch him once and got him chained in a cell to await his punishment. Fortunately, the guards had not found his lock picks when they searched him, so he was free and vanished at the next change of guard. Later, he returned for the knives they had taken from him and slipped away again. It was this feat that had him hiding in a stable when a girl, around his age, began her chores.
She was not a great beauty, in fact, she was rather plain, but it was her spirit that he saw, and that was more beautiful than any mortal face. She was singing as she worked and he watched quietly, listening and admiring. Lacchi left gifts for her, nothing that he had stolen, for that would only get her in trouble, and soon he showed himself to her. She has since told him of that first sight she had of him, a brown-eyed youth with a confident smile and cat-like grace, rough voiced and wild, but a man purely himself and nothing else. She had seen a rogue, but not a scoundrel and she had loved him from the first, just as he had her. Within that year, his nineteenth, they were wed and living in the small house Lacchi had bought with the money he had saved up. Though she never could quite convince him to forget his thieving ways, she did extract the promise that he wouldn’t do anything more dangerous than picking pockets.
In their second year together, Sara gave birth to a daughter who became the light of their lives. She had Lacchi’s bright, brown eyes and her mother’s beautiful voice when she laughed, but all too soon that happy life came to an end. Kari caught pneumonia and the doctors they could afford could do nothing. In desperation, Lacchi found himself on the roof of a rich merchant, his gear in his hands and his patience for once abandoned. Slipping quietly over the side, he caught his foot on a window ledge and dropped lightly down to come face to face with the owner of the house. He ran, but the merchant was rich enough to have competent guards and they caught him easily enough.
He didn’t want to reveal his reason for being there as it could have gotten both Sara and Kari in trouble and the man, though he probably would have forgiven Lacchi had he known, felt that proper punishment was due. He turned Lacchi into a dog and took away his mind so that he was, in every way, nothing more than a dog that had strange dreams at night. On his seventh year as a dog, the man tried to restore Lacchi to his humanity, but couldn’t quite come up with the proper spell. He managed to give him back his memories and his own mind, but Lacchi remained a dog, albeit one who occasionally turned into a human. Still, with his memories restored, he hurried back to his house only to find his daughter dead and his wife remarried. It was a shock, but not an unexpected one. He still doesn't know what she thinks happened to him, he was too afraid to spend more than an afternoon watching her. He strayed about the city, living on scraps for a year before hunger, and curiousity brought him to investigate the Emperor's grounds. He slipped in among the other dogs there and, while the kennel masters knew he wasn't one of theirs, they let him stay when he proved well-mannered and without disease. Not to mention, he kept coming back when they tried kicking him out. Two years after he first snuck in, the young Queen of Alcea appeared.
Skills: A good locksmith and pickpocket, is a little rusty at breaking and entering
Fast, with good endurance
Is better at fighting as a dog than a human, but pretty good at bluffing either way
Has learned how to act like a dog, and make use of his heightened senses
Something else?: Lacchi will shift between dog to human once every second or third night, he has no control of it himself, and it happens between dusk and dawn. Unfortunately for him, he usually has no clothes.
Aww, only females? That rules out half the opportunities. :P Or some more accurate mathematical option I don't care about. I'm interested in giving this a go if you'd like? Would there be leeway in creating the fantasy side of things while you're making up the modern side?
EDIT: Oh, and what's your posting rate expectation? I'm probably on the slower side of things.
EDIT: Oh, and what's your posting rate expectation? I'm probably on the slower side of things.
Hee, just making sure I was understanding, and no rush there, since we've not even an OOC up yet. Nothing's being finalised. :P
© 2007-2026