TwilightDragon

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

The Next Morning

Trying to sleep had been hectic. Snores slipped through nooks and crannies in the walls, depriving her of a good night’s sleep. Not to mention that she had been thinking about Helena, recently. Oh, Helena. If I had died instead of you, it would have been so much better for the Shepherds… the thought frequently crossed her mind as she laid in the creaky old bed, staring at the shadowy walls of the room. The night air nipping at her skin made it worse. Goose bumps rose up, and she had no other way to warm herself up other than a thin, stained sheet that used to be white.

When she woke up, she packed her things and walked down the stairs. She advised that everyone get something warm in their stomachs, and that they should move out immediately after. She had not seen Zaino, but she knew that he would not leave from there. Not without something important to him. Ambra felt dirty for stealing things, but a man that had sustained as many wounds as him should not leave their group. Even if it had been a woman, she would have done the same. The red haired woman looked around the main floor, watching everyone gather their things and begin to pay the innkeeper for their night’s stay.

Nestled safely in her satchel was Zaino’s bloodied, worn shirt. Taking it off of him had been a hassle, because she did not want him to wake up and see her undressing him. Yet, it had been worth it. She was pretty sure that he would not leave the inn without all of his clothes. She should have taken something else other than his shirt. Yet, how was she going to conceal his sword? Not to mention that it might be so important to him that he would slit her throat when he found out.

A loud laugh to her right made Ambra glance over at a pale haired, rosy faced lady that she quickly recognized as that Wyvern Lord. She had been rutting around with that Knight a few hours ago, and already she was getting drunk. She was actually sitting on another man’s lap, straddling him with her arms, but she didn’t get a good look at his face to determine who exactly he was. How she could act like that all of the time, she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out. How she could ride or guide her wyvern or walk, she didn’t know that either. Such a loud woman. If I ever act like that, someone should give me a good smack on my head.

“Loud, isn’t it?”

Ambra glanced up to see a man, wrapped in bandages and as bald as… well… she didn’t know what to compare him to other than a mummified mage. The Musician groaned as he walked up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder for support. She winced as she expected a heavy weight upon it, but he was surprisingly light. ”Hello… my name’s Ambra.” she greeted, nodding her head. ”Nice to meet you.”

“Name’s Talbot. You can call me Tal, if you want.” The musician glanced over at her. “That girl wants to learn from you, you know. The thief.”

Ambra narrowed her eyes, but Talbot raised a hand. “Don’t object. She has a spark in her, Ambra. And you keep on smothering that spark in hopes of it dying. Yet, that spark has grown into an ember, and then a flame. Every time you attempt to smother it with the heel of your boot, it will grow larger and larger. It is a fire you cannot put out.”

”So, what you’re telling me is that I should teach this untrustworthy woman so she could become deadlier?” Ambra asked.

“Think about it, Ambra. Even if she does turn on us, can a measly thief get very far after she has harmed one of us?” Talbot patted her on the shoulder, and turned away, limping to the innkeeper and ordering a bowl of soup. The red haired woman was left standing there, confused.

Should I..?

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

XD

I'll post the skip then.

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

NYAHHHHH

I was hoping I could skip tonight, before I go to bed.

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

Asura, have anything else to post?

As One | Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Username: Dragon
Name: Cyril Leggieri
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Country of Origin: Italy [more specifically, Lipari, Sicily].
Role: Student -> Subordinate -> Future Eleventh Generation Storm Ring Guardian.
Flame: Storm
Weapon/Fighting Style: Will be Chakrams; currently, he has no weapons and fights like a normal teenager- with his fists.
Appearance: At fifteen years old, Cyril has long hair that goes a bit past his neck. The young man is approximately 5’7—not necessarily tall, but he doesn’t care much for height. His physique is slender and built perfectly for someone who relies on speed. Even though he’s scrawny, one shouldn’t mess with Cyril. At twenty five years old (person on the right), his hair has become longer to the point where he can’t stand keeping it loose anymore; he keeps his rowdy hair tied up in a taut ponytail. Cyril continued to grow until he reached 5’9, yet he became a mere 136 pound man. It is obvious that Cyril has a small frame, even in his adult form.
Personality: Young Cyril is dark and humorless with people who don’t know him well. His face is usually set at a deadpanned expression. Exasperated sighs, annoyed grunts, and light hums as he gathers his thoughts are the only things that show that he actually has feelings and thinks about things other than being solemn. Sometimes a wry grin or a sarcastic bark of a chuckle escapes his lips when someone dares confront or annoy him. Despite taking on a very aggressive appearance, Cyril has an amazing amount of patience. He allows people to curse and spit at him, shoving his anger, fear, frustration, annoyance, and other feelings deep inside himself. Yet, even someone as patient as Cyril has a breaking point. All of bottled rage can spill out at any time, however, he tries to keep such “moments” as fuel in battle. Depending on the amount of feelings he’s closed away, he could be the first or last to strike in an encounter with an enemy. In combat, he is almost purely offensive, lest he have to block or defend a particularly powerful blow.
Even though Leggieri seems like a bland youth, he has a couple of quirks that don’t sit well with him. He easily blushes, which often makes him frustrated and adds more fuel to his inner fire. He also draws random doodles on the sides of his notes and chews on pencils.
Cyril only shows his mischievous and playful side to his aunt.
History: Cyril was born in Lipari to a subordinate of a very small Family. Being the only child, he was very pampered and spoiled. His parents would give him whatever he asked for. Yet, the younger years of his life were very lonely—he had no one his age to play with. Thus, he began spending his time reading books, drawing, and even writing. His sloppy artwork and crude stories began to evolve when he was around ten. It was at this time that he created very imaginative—and legible—stories of his own. Though, it was also around this time that his father began to show him how to fight and behave like a proper Mafioso. Cyril found that he had less and less time to draw, read, or write, and this didn’t bode well with him. He was not interested in becoming part of the Family. When he told his parents, they paid him no heed. Cyril’s father continued to train him until he was about twelve. Frustrated at his predicament, and after having suffered under his father’s lessons for two years, he fled from his home in Lipari with only the clothes on his back and a pocket full of money. He used said money to take a ship to Venice, where he found his aunt. His aunt welcomed him with open arms and allowed him to stay at her home for as long as he needed.
Cyril believed that his father would send someone after him, but none of the members of the Family back in Lipari ever showed up in Venice. The young man returned to his calm life style of drawing, reading, and writing. His aunt, of course, enrolled him in the local middle school in order for him to receive a proper education. Cyril picked up a few more hobbies, such as playing video games and (occasionally) playing the violin.
Overview: Cyril Leggieri is a dark haired, dark eyed fifteen year old who seems like he doesn’t know how to smile. His battle philosophy is “take no prisoners”. Born in Lipari, he fled to Venice at a young age and currently lives with his aunt.
Other: “My aunt says that I should forgive my enemies. Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

Ambra and Zaino have Support Level C.

Um, so they'll talk in the midst of battle? XD

Anyway, I'll have the skip post as my characters by the morning.

As One | Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

I posted a somewhat small first Cyril post. I might edit more in, later.

As One | Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

The day was already progressing slowly for him.

The young man sighed as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes lazily flicking up to the windows as the teacher droned on about something. Luckily for him, Cyril didn’t have to listen. School didn’t interest him—yet again, something rarely did. He much rather be at home with his aunt, fooling around with his violin or sketching something in some random notebook he found. He didn’t want to hear about some stupid lesson.

Cyril Leggieri was a fifteen year old, dark haired, dark eyed boy. Standing at five foot seven and very slender, his appearance usually did not threaten others his age. It was his attitude that did. Cyril closely resembled some sort of dark furred wolf that stared down its prey before sinking its teeth into the puny thing’s neck. Watching, always watching, until he finally snapped and his bloodlust got to him. This, of course, was not often. Cyril was usually calm in his class; he always sunk lower into his chair, always remained silent even when the teacher called on him to answer a question. This, of course, earned him horrible grades on his report cards, yet he would always pick up his act at the end of the year and barely scrape by.

It was not too hard to believe that this guy was in the mafia once, that is, if anyone found out.

Once.

His brown eyes focused on one point on the chalkboard as he wondered about what exactly happened with his mother and father. Cyril had believed that they would rush after him and drag him all of the way back to Lipari. Yet, he hadn’t seen any of his father’s “family” around Lipari. Whether they hadn’t come for him or he wasn’t looking hard enough.

A long and loud sigh escaped his lips, prompting people to glance over at him. The teacher ignored him, however, and continued on about whatever he was talking about. Sometimes I wish my life could be a little less… mundane… he thought as he lifted the pencil he had in his hand to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the old, yellow wood. If I had thought that it was going to be this boring, I would’ve stayed with father back at Lipari… not.

It was then that he thought about his father. He looked very much like him. His father was a tall man, almost six feet, with dark, dark chocolate eyes and hair as black as a raven's feather. Even though he was tall, his father looked like the type of person one could shatter in one blow. The man wasn't sickly, but he was skinny enough to give him an amazing amount of agility. Heck, that was how Cyril could dodge most of the punches one threw at him. However, he was almost never on the defensive. Offense was the way to go for him.

His mother was quite different. Cyril didn't remember much of her, but he did remember that she had the palest golden hair that he ever saw, almost white. Other than that, her other aspects were all a blur to him. Then again, he saw his father more often. He always dragged him off to practice. You always have to be on your toes, Cyril. his father told him once. There is no one you can trust.

Yet, what could he do? It was this or the mafia. If there had been a middle option, he would have taken it.

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

nyah

Song of Betrayal | Fire Emblem

We have them done on a website. It's a collaboration website, so...