Shepard's Eldemore Characters.

Share your stories and written works here. Keep all writing user friendly.

Shepard's Eldemore Characters.

Postby Commander Shepard » Wed Aug 07, 2013 1:36 am

I need a place to store these <3

Please, no posting. I'll be filling in pages later with character info, when I'm not suffering the effects of orange allergies << Ah whatever, post if you want xD I'll just link everything here on the first post.
Last edited by Commander Shepard on Wed Aug 07, 2013 3:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Eldsona -- Shepard & Companions

Postby Commander Shepard » Thu Jan 22, 2015 7:21 pm

Username:
Commander Shepard

Character Name:
Shepard (has abandoned given name, no replacement, just uses surname)

Gender:
??? (She/They pronouns)

Race:
Half-blood (human/avian -- House Tyto)

Homeland:
Has a home a little ways outside Alabaster, but mostly nomadic.

Age:
24

History:


Considered a 'small' family of the already rather sparse House Tyto, Aurora Tenebriscosa was the seventh of what eventually turned out to be nine children. Though expected to be educated in the usual noble teachings, she was granted a tad more freedom than her siblings. With her beloved Sooty Tiger Griffin, Aurora had a tendency to wander far from the Avians' distant homeland and to places settled by other races. Truthfully, Aurora was... bizarre, in that she was curious about other races. When she could slip away, she loved to check out any settlements she could, from the humblest hamlet to Alabaster City itself, and... observe. Interaction was unwise, but sometimes she managed to slip into a tavern for a few stories and songs. And eventually... love. A sweet human woman named Riley Shepard, who had her own experiences being among the fringes and outliers of society. Who was willing, even after learning Aurora's true nature, to give things a chance. Though their relationship was sometimes strained due to the infrequency of Aurora's visits, it lasted long enough for Aurora to find herself pregnant.

To find herself disgraced, exiled to the lands of the husks she dared sully herself and her noble blood with, her name blasted from the records and any mention of her afterwards treated as empty air.

Riley did all she could for Aurora, but the pregnancy was troubled, ending early and in Aurora's death. Riley knew she couldn't take care of the child alone, so she sought out her aunt and uncle, praying their accepting natures from so long ago would still hold, would stretch enough to accept this infant, innocent, far from the horror stories of 'demon birds'...

They did. Simple farming folk, far and away from any village, they decided it would be a peaceful enough place to raise the child. For the first six years or so, things went... amazingly, all told. The child grew, always a bit tall, her eyes taking on the characteristic mixed look of all half-borns; in her case-- the left deepening to a deep, deep brown that left no white visible, just like Aurora's eyes had been, her hair an astonishing shade of silvery-gray since birth. She was calm, enjoying nothing more than playing in the fold with the Rune Sheep, the only other real manifestation of her heritage being the long conversations she would hold with the local birds.

It wasn't meant to last.

A nightmare sent the child into her first transformation. Only a few feathers born of absolute terror created by her mind, but further fueled by the unfamiliar situation, until she resembled a monstrous Sooty Owl. Her mother, aunt. and uncle were able to calm her and eventually the situation reversed itself, but things were never quite the same after that. As she grew older, the child suffered more nightmares, bouts of uncontrolled magic and simple stress as she was taught of her heritage-- positively of course; her family never wanted her to feel ashamed... but finding out more about how half-avians were perceived didn't sit well. Her more intense transformations were rare, and none ever reached the level of the first one, but it soon became more common than not to see her sporting a few feathers along her face or arms.

She did find some relief from her night terrors, though-- at around eleven years old, the child's lack of sleep and frequent night terrors attracted the attention of a local Rune Dragon. A Dream Catcher to be precise, old and seeming unperturbed by the conflicting aura of magical and non magical blood. Though never actually bonding, the Dream Catcher seemed to adopt the child herself, settling in to make the nights a little easier to bear. Her companionship made the next few years easier to bear-- her aunt suddenly passing away just after her thirteenth birthday; an unknown beast started assaulting the sheep and sending the family into financial struggle, her uncle suffering a stroke that left him unable to do any more work around the farm. Coupled with her mother's advancing age, it left Shepard the only one able to regularly keep up with the chores, and even then... they had to hire on help. Just local kids, but it exposed Shepard to the prejudices she'd long been shielded from, and the outpouring of love from her uncle and mother could only do so much to help.

By sixteen, Shepard had become... withdrawn. Tense and speaking only when necessary, doing all she could to avoid interacting with others. She'd developed a tendency to fight when faced with the taunts of other children-- mostly a sharp slap, a punch or just grappling, but there were times where she'd do nothing but run. Once, one of the older boys had thought it fun to pluck a feather, and it had taken everything Shepard had in her to flee before her transformation grew worse. In this time, her only friends were local birds and creatures; and if there was one thing Shepard took solace in any more, it was her tendency to befriend them. She knew news from far and wide thanks to passing crows and sparrows, stories of grand cities and endless plains of sand, of oceans and mountains and forests deeper than time; stories that ignited a wanderlust that ached even more than the anxiety that so often gnawed her mind. There were other creatures, too-- in particular, those who stuck around being a pair of rare Glasswork dragons she saved from being crushed after a storm blew them into the sheep's pen; a little family of Prong Foxes who were nearly exterminated after being mistaken as the source of the sheep losses; and most extraordinarily, a Yuletide Elkrin doe who bore a pair of spindly antlers.

These friends helped Shepard as she grew... if not better, at least a little happier and calmer when not dealing with people outside her family. By eighteen, she was still... troubled, but more stable than not most days. That summer though, her life changed forever. After the beloved old ram, one who'd led the flock since before Shepard was even conceived, was stolen, the family decided enough was enough. Shepard and Ashlyn camped out for a week steady, even as a violent storm picked up, and in that storm... they finally found the beast that had been depleting the flock. A drenched Griffin framed in lightning would unsettle even the bravest soul, so Shepard had little shame in shrieking at the top of her lungs as she charged the creature. In its prime, it would have shredded Shepard within a moment, but it was thin and hurt... and seemed to hesitate, once it saw Shepard. Shepard herself felt the strangest sensation as well-- a bizarre... pull to the griffin, a recognition like they had been meant to meet a long time ago. The two sat back, staring each other down even as Riley stormed out with a lantern; one that was quickly dropped at the sight of a face she hadn't seen in nearly two decades.

Shepard and Riley took the Griffin aside, away from the sheep to where she could be properly fed and healed; as Riley explained the most likely reason the fight had ended so quickly-- this was Paine, Aurora's Griffin thought lost upon her exile. And as Shepard took over taking care of her, the two seemed to develop a companionship; soon deepening-- against all odds, despite Shepard's mixed blood... the devotion to the last trace of her former rider's presence calmed Paine enough to accept a new bond. A tenuous one though, the griffin had been badly hurt and often attacked by humans in her time alone; and she would frequently dispute Shepard's orders to stay put and stay gentle.

In the end, it was Shepard who wound up taking Paine's desires to heart. No one would want to come near a farm bearing a half-avian and Griffin, and the bond had only deepened Shepard's urge to roam. With a heavy heart, just before turning nineteen, Shepard said goodbye to her mother and uncle. With her favorite creatures following along, Shepard and Paine set out to explore the world, to seek whatever they could find. Time proved it to be mostly new and astonishing creatures, and after an... incident in Silverport, a budding association with the Watch Crows and a blood bound crow they've since named Amethyst. Shepard managed to find a small home a little ways outside Alabaster City, sharing it with their ever increasing collection of creatures; and once the horde grew beyond a reasonable scope, another half-born (though of what, Shepard couldn't name to save their life) named Calliope.

At twenty four, Shepard has managed to become... happier. Still struggling with anxiety, still prone to a sharp temper (even if she's good at keeping it under control, she's still... feathery, most days), but she's become more assertive, taking pride in her heritage and fighting the stigma of half-born avians however she can, hoping one day maybe even to visit the lands her mother came from...


Appearance:
Tall but stocky (about 5'10, little over 200lb), fairly pale-- she doesn't tan much if at all, just burns and freckles a bunch. Arms and hands are rather scarred. Right eye is normal looking, plain brown; left displays the tell-tale near black of house Tyto, no visible sclera. Prominent dark circles under their eyes, still has trouble sleeping sometimes. Hair is naturally a silver-gray color, but they like to dye it bright pink whenever possible; usually kept cut quite short. Favors heavy boots and seafarer's coats over sturdy pants and plain shirts.

Companions:
Owns near on 2000 creatures, but her most prominent companions are Herald, Songbird, Elizabeth, and Ashlyn. The prong fox family tends to follow her around, too-- Aurora, Streak, Bon, Bright, and Eclipse.

Bonded creatures: Paine, Amethyst.

----

Creature:
Name: Paine
Gender: Female
Species: Griffin (Sooty Tiger)
Personality: A proud griffin, the sudden exile and death of her first rider have left Paine rather... edgy. She seems to feel the need to immediately be on the defense, even among her companions, and is sensitive to even the suggestion of rejection. She can become extremely withdrawn during such times, even fleeing and isolating herself until Shepard comes to find her. She is improving on this attitude though, becoming more sure and more confident in Shepard's loyalty... but it's unlikely she'll ever escape such doubts entirely.

On her better days, Paine's age and experience shine through. She is extremely perceptive, her instincts often saving her and Shepard's hides from trouble of all kinds. She is quick to make her opinions known, unafraid to scree up a storm if something just isn't right. Granted, this has led to nearly as many problems as it's solved, but still, her track record is better than not, so what can you do?

Appearance: ImagePaine About the size of a Siberian Tiger. No riding gear aside from a collar for Shepard to hang onto.

Name: Amethyst (Ame)
Gender: Female
Species: Crow
Personality: For a creature shrouded in such secrecy and superstition, born of a forbidden blood ritual, Amethyst is perhaps the most lighthearted of Shepard's crew. She loves to pull pranks whenever possible, often hiding favored objects all around the camp or city they might be, snatching food or mimicking sounds-- even voices at times, she's gotten the hang of Shepard's voice and Paine's calls. However, for all her joking, Amethyst is extremely loyal, ready to fight or help however she can to keep her bonded and companions safe.
Appearance:ImageAmethyst
Other: Eye glow is deep violet fading into pink. Wears a pair of black steel rings set with amethyst around her legs.

Other:

Creature:

Name: Ashlyn
Gender: Female
Species: Rune Dragon (Dream Catcher)
Personality: Silent, but very sweet and affectionate, likes to be cuddled.
Appearance: Here! (About the size of a great horned owl)
Other: Used to be bonded to a human, but lost the connection some years ago.

Name: Elizabeth
Gender: Female
Species: Glasswork (Delta 1)
Personality: Quick-witted but a little naive, very good at finding things others might miss at first glance. Likes to hoard shiny things.
Appearance: Here!
Other: Seems to be life-long friends with Songbird.

Name: Songbird
Gender: Male
Species: Glasswork (Springtime)
Personality: Protective, and often downright violent for a Glasswork, when his friends are in danger. Often carries a needle around.
Appearance: Here! Abnormally large for a Glasswork, about the size of an Atlas Moth.
Other: Seems to be life-long friends with Elizabeth.

Name: Herald
Gender: Female
Species: Elkrin (Winter Wreath)
Personality: Steadfast and cautious, very imposing. Has no qualms headbutting others out of her way.
Appearance: Here! (Antlers are rather small and spindly; result of a mutation that sometimes leaves does with antlers. ... actual thing that happens in rl deer too :D)
Other: Is often given a wide berth by other elkrin due to her mutation. Does not accompany Shepard into cities, but will follow her through almost any and all wild locations.


Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Lorenna Leda Buccinator Cygnus

Postby Commander Shepard » Sat Feb 04, 2017 2:07 am

just crammin down thoughts

-Swan Avian (House Cygnus)
-Noble, youngest of three daughters
-Based on The Bonny Swans
-Wings were mutilated by her eldest sister in a fit of jealousy and rage bc rank marriages n such
-Reverse ugly duckling story
-Difficulty speaking, purely psychological though. Sings more often than speaks
-Graceful dancer, probably eventually ears a spot among ballet troupe?


Name: Lorenna 'Lore' Leda Buccinator Cygnus
Age: 24
Race: Avian
Gender: Female
Appearance: Once considered the prize beauty of House Cygnus, Lore has... well, no one quite knows what to say when the story goes in reverse. Her hair is long, lank and the downy gray of a cygnet, often pulled into a messy bun or; when she has the energy, braided and worn in a crown. Her skin is pale, almost ashy looking in certain lights; her black eyes dull and sunken and ringed with dark shadows. The feathers still clinging to her long legs are unkempt and rather ruffled, and never did quite regain their perfect snowy tint; and her talons barely even qualify as fingernails. She is tall, nearly seven feet and rail thin, though it's hard to tell as Lore is often wrapped in large cloaks. Her very favorite is a cape made of real swan feathers, kept in pristine condition, though she has a few jackalope and dire wolf hide ones for more ordinary wear. Her back is marred by a pair of deep scars where her wings once were-- they were clumsily hacked away some time ago, leaving only a few tiny feathers that she doesn't even try taking care of any more.
Job: Transient singer, has potential for ballet/dancing.
Theme song: The Bonny Swans
Companion: Image

----

House Cygnus has always been known for the beauty of their kind. Even among Avian standards, they are considered the epitome of grace; admired all the more for often having strength to match their beauty as well. With wide, snowy wings (or rarer still, black as ink), they fly clad in shimmering silks and jewels to catch the sun, so all the Isles, all Eldemore, may better bask in their radiance.

The family Buccinator was always small in number and rather lower in standing; but as Lord Ebert was fond of saying, theirs was a bloodline touched by Zeypher himself, unmatched in quality, even as they dwindled to only twenty individuals, the latest generation having only three daughters to show. But they were the pinnacle of Avian beauty, at least as far as most Cygnus were concerned; with wide wings and slim, graceful forms, seeming to guide the wind more than be guided by it when they flew. All three attracted many a suitor, but their parents never arranged any marriage-- Cygnus pair for life, and each would make the choice for herself.

As it happened, the youngest, Lorenna, found herself smitten with one of these suitors-- none other than a proper Prince, whom both her sisters had tried and failed to win over. He was handsome, true, but Lorenna had been won over more by his voice, how his wings would flutter when something delighted him; how he tripped over punchlines to silly jokes and would join her in flights through a moonless, star-spangled sky, tracing constellations and talking of those funny light spots on the ground that marked human villages. In time, they were mad for each other, and agreed to wed just after Lorenna's twenty-third birthday.

The second sister had nothing but congratulations-- perhaps hasty, as she was embarking on a trip to visit her own beloved, a Corvus watchwoman stationed some halfway around the world.

Her parents were beyond themselves with happiness, seeing their daughter find not only a true and lasting love, but to carry the bloodline on and higher into the world, what more could they hope?

The eldest...

She raged as only she could. A woman of intense passions, of jealousy and suspicions and worst, of certainty. She was the eldest! The fairest, the first to court the prince and the heir to all the Buccinator family held, therefore such... happiness, such luck by right should be hers, for that was how the world worked, was it not? And perhaps some of it was fear-- most elder relatives had passed away long ago, their parents were aging, one sister long gone and the other about to fly free and joyful, leaving her... what? To languish alone, care for her aging parents until they died? Never mind that plenty had asked her hand, only to be turned down because they were too common, too ugly, too poor... she would always find something, even when playing polite, she simply could never be satisfied.

Still, she thought she might finally have enough, if only she could have the Prince. So, some month before Lorenna's birthday, she requested... just a trip. A little flight over the countrysides Lorenna so loved, perhaps a rest by a secluded, mossy glade cut by a river. Lorenna was delighted and took her sister up on the offer without a moment's hesitation, even bidding her griffin to remain behind-- they would be safe, she'd said, back before moonrise.

So they flew, landing among a cove of trees covered in moss beside a merrily bubbling stream. They rested there a short time... and from there, Lore's memory is patchy. She doesn't know if her sister brought the knife to her wings before or after shoving her into the river; doesn't know if she tore out her talons trying to rip her sister's throat out or in the rotted bark of a tree in her attempts to escape.

She remembers blood, remembers seeing it whisked away ahead of her and the terrifying sensation that, for the longest time, left her convinced the rushing waters were to fill her veins instead. She remembers screaming, sobbing and pleading as her sister faded, remembers tumbling over a small waterfall and her head cracking against a stone at the bottom, but the water growing gentler, if only she had any strength left to try and stay afloat; remembers something soft floating by and clinging to it for dear life.

Remembers that it was her--

But there, the memories grow black; she refuses to allow them any place in her mind. She only allows the later, when she washed up at the shore of a miller's cottage and a young woman's shout of astonishment. "A swan," she'd said, "A swan or a woman?"

Her recovery was miraculous, given the extent of her injuries; as was the fact that she regained proper use of her arms. The miller had offered her to stay as long as she wished, but Lore stayed only long enough for the worst of her injuries to heal. The sound of the river terrified her, as did the sight of passing swans; she needed to get as far away as she could. She left one warm spring evening, though at least not alone-- the miller's other daughter had come to visit, but she was a harper in a city far away, and gladly offered to bring the strange swan-woman along her way back.

It was a rather silent journey, for since becoming conscious enough to speak, Lorenna found she could do very little of it. Couldn't even speak her full name, so they had come to know her only as Lore. Strangely though... strangely, while spoken words came out barely more than a whisper if they came at all, they flowed effortlessly if she was allowed to sing. Old familiar tunes or new ones, as long as she had music and the words of others, she could sing from sundown to dawn. The skill proved useful in earning her keep once she made it to the city-- usually, alongside the miller's daughter to accompany her harp, but sometimes in any tavern that needed some entertainment.

That aside? Lore lives alone, in a tiny room above an inn. It's sparsely furnished, and she finds herself almost trembling at the sight of jewels and other fineries. That she could even purchase the swan-feather cloak is a feat itself, for the actual creature still inspires dread. She is regarded mostly as a curiosity by the general public-- that she is an Avian is impossible to ignore, but one so unkempt? Who barely has fingernails, let alone the mirror-bright talons that have inspired so many fearful stories? Who makes her home on the ground, who seems to have no wings to speak of? Surely she was some serving caste, perhaps a criminal and this is her punishment.

Lore doesn't mind these stories. But a part of her hopes that perhaps, someday she can find the strength to sort through the memories... though she doubts she will ever be able to speak of it.

But perhaps... perhaps one day, she might be able to sing it.
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Re: Shepard's Eldemore Characters.

Postby Commander Shepard » Wed Feb 08, 2017 11:15 pm

Eleanor & Chani notes bc we might lose power tonight and I want to have this down before I lose it

OLD CHARACTERS and not exactly Eld specific, but they're gettin an incarnation here bc I love em and they need some life

CHANI:

-Trueborn Wolfkin
-Clanless-- her clan were followers of the Ancient of the Wilds, and developed a deep mistrust of Chani when, under dire circumstance, she embraced the full nature of the wolf and called to Hubris, taking on the dreaded form of his followers. However, she was allowed to at least live, as her actions saved the clan's primary territory from becoming fully uninhabitable due to a blocked spring. Though others might call her A'taihin, she has refused to take the name herself, and she has also rejected all names from her bloodline. She instead adopted Chani, an archaic term for the beautiful spring of green and flowers that follow the final winter storms.
Looks more like an Avian than a Wolfkin-- six feet tall, slim and graceful, with deep brown skin. Fur varies, mostly tones of brown, but with striking creamy white patterns here and there. Eyes are a deep, almost black, shade of brown.

ELEANOR:
Avian -- maybe halfborn if they can have wings?? I've seen other half-avians with wings so idk
Either way, considered an absolute disgrace to her family (Corvus Cyanocitta -- blue jay), and threatening their standing so severely it would be better if she simply weren't.. present, any more.
Wings were clipped and she was unceremoniously abandoned in the desert, as they didn't want to get their hands dirty.
Eleanor's build is unusual for an Avian, too-- stocky and short, only at 5'10, but well muscled and with incredibly powerful talons and legs. She fights dirty-- usually aims for the eyes first.
Medium-brown skin tone, hair is black around the hairline, but fades to blue, feathers are a mix of blue and white with bits of black. Has a tendency to dye the end of her hair red, though. Displays a bizarre mutation against her family's usual eye color though-- they are, in fact, a deep, bright red.
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Ancient of Chaos -- Nyarlathotep

Postby Commander Shepard » Sat Feb 11, 2017 9:56 am


Image

Name: Nyarlathotep. (Nye, Nyra; has had many nicknames over history.) Adopts the surname Zmätok when among mortals.
Age: Endless & beyond comprehension.
Gender: Genderfluid-- will accept any pronouns, doesn't actively present as anything other than... well, Nyarlathotep. Generally regarded as male by others, will use he/him pronouns through this form for ease.
Race: Ancient.

Personality:

One would expect chaos to be... well, chaotic, right? Always flickering here and there, bending reality left and right and a hundred directions that don't exist... yeah, you want that? Go find Nye's brother. Nyarlathotep is downright sedate most of the time, simply watching and waiting... though for what, well, even he doesn't know. He seems almost... bored, most of the time, truth be told. He can look into every course of action, every possibility the universe has to offer and what's within the universes they spawn, and so on and so forth into eternity. Everything's eventual, is his motto; sooner or later every potential scenario will play out. Oblivion sealed forever, Oblivion released. A giant winged elkrin propelling itself into space on glittery toots, magic vanishing entirely from the world to be replaced by technology, technology spontaneously transforming into quivering cubes of tofu hell bent on consuming all carbon-based matter in their vicinity. Now, that one's unlikely, but such is fate-- if not in this universe, then in another where the laws of existence allow for such a thing to happen. Peering so far beyond like that takes a toll even on the most ancient of minds though, so Nyarlathotep keeps his focus on Eldemore... and a few of its timelines, admittedly, just for the sake of comparison.

More often than not nowadays, he also seems... melancholy. Not outright sad, but something weighs him down, something seems... missing. And indeed, something is-- his first summoner, and against all odds and their intentions, the first being he could ever admit to truly loving, has been long gone from his life, though he has an inkling that she is... still around, in some form; but that is one set of possibility he forcibly refuses to examine. But he still has a tie to the mortal world, in his dear daughter Calliope. Even if all things are to come to pass... he still feels immeasurable happiness that in this space, in this time, he was fortunate enough to see her brought into the world. His feelings towards the... rest of his family are a little less clear though, simply because he has been in a more observational, withdrawn mood for quite some time now.

Nyarlathotep is rarely followed by the peoples of Eldemore, and he's just fine with that-- he has no desire to be an object of worship. However, he does show a particular fondness for the half-borns of the world, delighting in their mere existence, the sheer improbability and infinite possibility such unions produce. Should he hear the rare invocation or cry for help, he is willing to... alter the odds, just a bit, to assist, though so far, he's never directly interfered when asked.

Nyarlathotep does seem to share one trait with his brother, though, and that's a penchant for making reference to things from outside the current space and time. He seems to get a particular kick out of anything involving a choice between blue, green and red objects...

Appearance:
Never constant. His most common ones though, are his natural dragon form and that of a... avian-ish human. As a dragon, he is actually... usually very reasonably sized, no taller than a griffin. He is generally wingless, with a long, peculiarly angled face and long, feathery ears. His cheeks are feathery too, as is the ever-wisping mane on his neck, his forelimbs, and tail. His coloring is quite striking, too-- a red so deep as to be liquid black void along the center regions of his body, growing brighter as it radiates outward. There are a number of ever-shifting luminous red dots under his skin, while his face shows a number of lightning-crackle red-gold markings. His eyes are similarly gold, all throughout, and shine so bright as to illuminate his face. His left arm is marked with a glowing red, roughly 'C' shaped design, radiating crackles and a smooth line down to his foot. When enraged or in need of... leaving an impression though, he grows so as to seem to encompass the entire area he's in, and looks... wrong. Dimensioned in such a way that shouldn't be possible, on you from all sides, all angles. And should he be really angry... well. He doesn't show multiple mouths like his brother, but his grin becomes something wide, stretching all along his neck and down to the chest from every which way, ready to swallow you up into the infinite abyss within.

In human form, he's much less terrifying. Almost able to pass as an Avian or half-born Avian, Nyarlathotep stands at about 6'3, with dark olive skin and deep red-brown hair-- almost like dried blood, others say. His eyes are still a brilliant gold, and he still sports the feathers along his jaw and chin, and long, feathered ears. The markings on his left arm is still present though, though only glows when he utilizes his powers. He dresses plainly, taking on whatever style most befits his surroundings.

Other:
-Seriously dotes on Calliope, making sure to visit her at least once a month and catch up on what's been going on; occasionally brings her gifts from his interdimensional wanderings.

-Is actually kind of freaked out by the hoard of pets Calliope's housemate has, but... well, she's happy with the arrangement, so he's happy for her.

-Seems to like griffins more than any other creature?? Maybe it's all the feathers.

-About as much of a tea addict as his brother, though not prone to parties or the like. Rather, he'll make himself a fine cup, and drink from it until he's done with it. Even if that takes a hundred years, the cup will still be full to the brim and piping hot. "There's always a possibility I didn't take a drink, and that it didn't cool down," is how he explains it... well, that and the fact that he's an ancient being tied to the nature of chance, improbability and uncertainty, so he can actually exploit those little loopholes.

-As an Ancient, of course, he can't bond to any creatures. However, he looks after a pair of Rune dragons-- Oriana, a baby Dark Matter Rune; and a very old, very heartbroken Paragade Rune named Adrian, the former companions to his dear Gabriella. There was a third, a Dream Catcher Rune named Ashlyn, but she vanished even before Calliope was born...

-Will never wish you 'good luck', because luck is an absolute lie. It's all about the when and where-- so instead, he'll simply wish you to be where you need to be, when you need to be, and that things line up for the best. (Even if you don't think it's the best, at the time.)
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

The Night Carnival

Postby Commander Shepard » Sun Feb 19, 2017 11:41 am

Not a character, but a location-- one ever-shifting, never quite in the same place twice.

The Night Carnival, as its name suggests, only appears during the nighttime, though signs of it are present during the daytime, either as it travels or as its settling into the day's chosen location. By day, one might see an abandoned field or lot suddenly guarded by a pack of Dead Zone Direwolves. They do not attack, but their presence tends to keep any busybodies out of the way as... well, clearly there's some kind of setup, but the carnival site appears stark empty until the second night falls.

At that time... it's truly a marvel, all other feelings aside. It begins with a voice calling through the night, deep and booming to every resident, no matter how widespread the area might be. And while some will ignore, to many... it is compelling. At least enough to take to the streets, and there... there, is a sight to behold.

It begins with three griffins, unlike any known through the rest of Eldemore, pulling a caravan so black as to be made from the void itself, marked only by a strange, luminous red rune on the back. Upon it stands a man, calling out to those who wish to witness the event of a lifetime-- no two shows will ever be the same, even if you find the carnival again, they even are somehow performing the same sequence of events and stunts, it will never be the same as what you will see tonight. Behind this man is a parade of other caravans, creatures rare and ghastly-- Foo Dogs and rotting Rune Drakes, some even swear to have seen a quintet of Basilisks within the throng. Those who do wish to see are compelled to follow the strange parade, the man now leading in strange songs, until they reach the chosen site.

The empty space is filled then, with grand tents and stalls of games, of merchants selling food and trinkets and very often creatures, ranging from runes to glasswork dragons, Drake eggs and Foo pups and everything in between; creatures the like never seen before or thought to be in this world no more. Truth be told, the setup is quite beautiful; the tents decorated with brilliantly glowing runes and strange scripts in every color of the rainbow and seem to shift each blink, the games in fact fair and the prizes quite nice (mostly plush toys, though some indeed award creatures or strange items)... even the creatures being sold seem to be in excellent condition, though it's best not to question beyond that. The smaller tents all host a curiosity-- a truly unique creature, performers going through practice routines, singers and jugglers and fortune tellers, sometimes simply a lone figure telling a story of ages past.

In time though, the crowds filter into the grandest tent, astonished to find that for as huge as it might appear outside... within, it's even larger, the canvas walls pitch black and dotted with luminous, shifting red stars all throughout.

In a flash of red light, the ringleader appears, golden eyes shining ever brighter in the gloom as he shares his delight that so many have come. That while he regrets this is all he can do in the current situation... he hopes that it might be enough to keep spirits up; that until the dawn comes? There is no blight, no corruption, no curse of Oblivion. There is fear, oh yes... but this is a fear they experience on their terms. That in this night, they are safe and free and equals all, bearing no obligation but to enjoy the show.

No one is ever truly certain how the show ends, at least no one in the audience. To them, the last act finishes, the performers take their bow, and the ringleader takes center again to speak... and then they are in their homes, watching the first rays of sunlight peer over the horizon; and the site as empty and pristine as it was the day before. Yet anything purchased or won that night remains... though not every attendee does. It's rumored the price for the Night Carnival is a few unlucky souls, but in truth? One might see them again, should they ever catch another show...


(The Night Carnival is a production run by none other than the Chaos Ancient Nyarlathotep; his attempt to reconnect with a world in turmoil that he is forbidden from directly interfering in. However, he hopes that the carnival can foster some happiness and joyful memories for any who attend, and he is always willing to take in those who wish to be part of the show themselves. He'll never say where the creatures who assist in the shows are from though, just that their proper owner is out of the story for now and he'll take them right back once they're around again...

The Night Carnival is an open location, you are free to include it in your characters' back stories/current story!)

Characters of mine involved in the carnival:
-Nyarlathotep
-Calliope
-Eleanor
-Chani
-Maybe Lore?
-Literally every single one of Shepard's pets except for Amethyst (and maybe Paine) now
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Eleanor De Witt (Corvus Cyanocitta)

Postby Commander Shepard » Sat Apr 15, 2017 8:30 am


Full Name: Eleanor Fitzroy Corvus Cyanocitta Stelleri; has since adopted De Witt in place of Avian family name.
Age: ? Somewhere between 23-28
Race: Trueborn Avian, Corvus (Steller's Jay)
Gender: -vague hand gesture- (she/her)
Orientation: Pan; taken by Chani.
Occupation: 'Gladiator' in The Night Circus-- gets into controlled fights with the more exotic, threatening creatures; takes care of most of the griffins on the road.


Appearance & Personality:
Stocky, rather pale, and downright short by Avian standards, Eleanor was denounced as bad blood from birth. She doesn't quite hit 6' tall, and exhibits some degree of leucism-- her deep blue feathers and black-blue hair are shot through with splotches and streaks of white, and the effect is not helped by her tendency to dye the ends of her primaries and tail a deep red... that happens to match her eyes; no one has any idea where that came from (though rumors persist there's been a Vireo or two in her lineage). Her personality is also... well, House Corvus is certainly known for its warriors, but Eleanor's zest for conflict is at odds with the honorable, disciplined traditions-- her opening move, most times, is to immediately try jamming her talons in her opponent's eyes, for example. Eleanor takes great pride in her claws, spending a good hour or so every day ensuring they're sharp and polished, that the heavy rings (she's a sucker for shinies, and besides, they add good weight to a punch) are set securely, and they're in general working order. Her wings are another source of pride, and while she's small for an Avian, Eleanor is quite strong, and an excellent aerial combatant. Her style is rather sloppy though, and more than two people will often prove more than overwhelming enough to see her subdued. Clothing style tends towards plain and serviceable.

Bonded:
Image

Daisy, a particularly large and fierce Apex Griffin. Shows as much pride as her rider, though appears to have a significantly better understanding of odds, strategy, and general common sense. Noticeably calmer, too.

Companion:
Image

Named after the deep desert spice the Dire is so fond of, Melange was rescued from a Sandwyrm nestling and has been following Eleanor ever since. Bit of a birdbrain and easily distracted, but quite obedient and unerringly loyal to Eleanor.

----

She was bad blood, terrible at taking orders and just a chaotic mess of a bird... frankly, the shocking thing is how long it took before Eleanor was essentially disowned. Not just by her family, but by the entirety of House Corvus. Which is a fact she will proclaim, proudly, within the first ten to thirty minutes of meeting her.

Eleanor never felt at home in Avian society, and really would have gladly left if they'd just asked, but no, that'd be the decent way to do things. Instead, she was plied with rich wine (... okay, pretty cheap and really strong liquor), drugged further so she slept like the dead as her feathers (and those of her Griffin) were clipped, as she and Daisy were caged up and unceremoniously dumped in the most remote, inhospitable part of the Darak'i desert the troupe could find. And then left to sleep off the mix for the next several hours, including a good chunk of time in the hottest part of the day, right under the sun.

The only reason Eleanor isn't a pile of bones and waste in a Sandwyrm pit is due to... well, in her delirious, still mildly drugged state, she's reported as having said something along the lines of 'oh dear gods I'm getting eaten by Hubris', followed by a string of profanities that... well, given her state, their cohesion and sheer number was actually rather remarkable. And then passed out again, taking another few days before making it back to anything resembling true consciousness. Of course, she hadn't been getting eaten by a long-dead wolf god, hardly. Now, it was a primal-formed Wolfkin who found her, and did have to pick Eleanor up in her mouth, but only to carry Eleanor back to her den so she wouldn't burn to a crisp.

Several days, aloe plants, and gallons of water later, Eleanor was fit enough to learn the name of her savior (Chani), realize she had been... betrayed (certainly not Eleanor's choice of phrase), and consider plotting revenge only to decide it would be a worthless cause, as her and Daisy's feathers had been further plucked and otherwise damaged due to sand mite infestation; it would be at least another half year before they were fit to fly again. In the meantime, she (rather humbly,actually) stayed with Chani, having no means to leave the desert and... well, once the shock wore off, the company was. Comforting.

Things went on, love happened, as well as many tussles with desert creatures, rogue wolves (Dire and kin), and a truly spectacular showdown with a Sand Wyrm after Eleanor deprived an infant of the creatures from its dinner. And then there was that time a circus showed up in the golden city, drawing in so many that even a pair of outcasts could slip in freely... though, never slip out. The place was perfect for a pair of outcasts who were wholly unwelcome in their homelands, and the fact it was headed by the Ancient of Chaos, who seemed to make it his personal mission to befriend every one of his staff, didn't hurt either.

So, life could've been... well, way better. But hey, a fantastic job, friends in high places and an amazing partner... in the end, Eleanor feels it was worthwhile, even if she's still got the sunburn blister scars to show for the experience.
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Re: Shepard's Eldemore Characters.

Postby Commander Shepard » Sat Apr 15, 2017 10:09 am

Name: Chani (originally Ayat Kel'Shiyah, formally known among wolfkin clans as Ayat A'taihin).Age: Somewhere between 25-30, depending on timeframe written.
Race: Trueborn Wolfkin
Gender: Nb/Genderflux (a constant flow between almost female and hard agender). She/her, occasionally they/them.
Orientation: Diamoric* demisexual (*A diamoric person is a non-binary person who prioritizes nb people and nb partnerships in their life); taken by Eleanor.
Occupation: Aerialist in The Night Circus, specializes in high-flying aerial silk acts.

Appearance and personality:

It's the eyes that most people notice first. Deep and dark and sparkling like a moonless night; cold and hard as black diamonds, blazing obsidian chips spat from a volcano's crater... if one ever wants to understand Chani's moods, you only need look at her eyes. In fact, unless you are her very deeply intimate partner, her eyes are the only way to get so much as a hint of what Chani is feeling at any given time. Her expression is not unkind, but her thin lips are always set in a neutral line, ears held alert and thick eyebrows moving only the scarcest bit, no matter if she's faced with a raging ves'en, sand wyrm, or mite-infested gel'vo stringing together profanities to shame even the gods. Her skin is a warm brown and she has a smooth complexion, only the faintest old scars can be found on her hands and one just under her right eye. Her hair is dark, quite long and fall in moderate curls, often kept back in a long braid. She wears mostly loose dresses, though richly patterned; and has a fondness for delicate jewelry-- thin chains of gems woven through her braid, golden bands and silver rings set with glittering gems.

Chani is a patient wolfkin, adept at both long-term planning and thinking on the fly. She is swift and though not remarkably strong, possesses great endurance and stamina. She is rather haughty, never hesitating to speak up (or, as the tone so often is, down) to anyone, no matter their rank, if she feels she can do better. Perhaps it's fitting then, that while Kel'Shiyah are ardent followers of the Ancient of Wilds, Chani embraced the teachings of Hubris instead, including the immense, feral wolf form that comes with that path. She is a towering beast then, seven and a half feet tall at the shoulder, with quite a striking fur pattern-- due to a genetic quirk (indeed, one similar to her future partner's), Chani's overall fur is more of a sandy brown, even patched bone white around her neck, thighs, wrists and tail; the proper natural mahogany only really visible on the ends of her ears and tail. She takes a deep pride in this form, as well as the control she has while in it-- though, she attributes the lack of 'primal rage' to common sense; most recorded incidents happened under intense stress or the follower of Hubris being hounded to desperation. What could anyone expect?

Bonded:
Image

Usul, a Dead Zone Dire Chani found in her teens. He is a skittish wolf, prone to striking out at the slightest provocation if Chani isn't there to calm him. He is quite affectionate in his good moods though, tails wagging madly and shoving his masked snout under a friendly hand for pets. No injuries or anything under his mask, but it does seem to keep him calmer than when the gear is off.

Companion:
Image

Rapture, most unusual Griffin in that she willingly follows Chani, despite the lack of a proper bond... and the whole wolfkin thing. Indeed, Chani rides as well as most Avians, and has become adept at aerial strikes or distracting maneuvers before dive-bombing the target... often in her primal form.

---

Ayat, as she was at the time, was eleven years old when she was stripped of her clan and left to the dunes. Always an inquisitive child, always questioning her elders, a practice that led to fewer good-natured laughs and more stern looks the more she probed into the nature of Hubris and the Ancient of the Wilds, into why they had to deny the magic, the gifts they were born with. This came to a head when, following an earthquake one winter, her clan's main source of water was slowed to a mere trickle... a poisoned one, at that. The quake had loosed a number of rocks, and in the clan's attempt to shift them, it was revealed the true source of the block-- while not fully grown, nothing other than a sand wyrm had made its nest in the stones. Three of the strongest warriors were killed within the first ten minutes of the fight; even the leaders were fighting a losing battle, weak from thirst and too-long traveling. Though it was motivated by loyalty and love (and perhaps a little childish hubris), Ayat's actions broke the clan's greatest taboo-- she embraced her full nature, and though rather gangly still, a primal wolfkin was enough of a match to drive the wyrm away and loose the rocks, allowing the river to flow freely once again.

She was hailed as a hero, as her actions did save the clan's traditional base territory, and indeed, saved the lives of their leaders... and for that, Ayat was simply titled A'taihin and cast out into the deepest parts of the desert, rather than killed then and there for embracing such a terrible nature.

To that, she thought, why accept A'taihin? Why carry any name at all, when there was nothing but the sand and jackalopes in her company? For many years, she simply... was. No name, no clan, simply a wolf living and hunting, exploring the desert and honoring the few ruined shrines of Hubris she came across. During these years, she came across a Dead Zone dire she eventually bonded with, naming him Usul; and aside from a few scrapes from accidentally infringing on another clan's territory, nothing interesting really happened until her mid-twenties. It was the middle of summer, and she'd seen quite a commotion the previous night; a small wing of griffins with a great net between them rushing over where her den. Later in the day, she decided to head in the direction she'd seen them light down in... and found an Avian and her griffin, severely burned, surrounded by hastily cut feathers, delirious and reeking of spirits. Well... what else was there to do? She managed to carry the both of them back to her den, and it was at least interesting, tending to the two of them.

Even more interesting when the Avian finally awoke, ranting and raving about a betrayal worse than Oblivion turning against Fate, how she would have the wings of those who'd done this honey-glazed and fried, and by the way what was her name again?

It was perhaps the first time she'd been... unprepared. It had been over a decade since she'd used any name, and so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind and sounded nice-- Chani. No clan name, no surname at all, though this didn't seem to give the Avian any pause.

And so began a... strange relationship, to say the least, and a host of new feelings Chani found... mildly terrifying, given how used she was to having full mastery over her emotions and desires, but she adjusted quickly. Indeed, in time, she came to enjoy and embrace both her own and Eleanor's affections. The fact that Eleanor seemed to... venerate her, give her the deference Chani associated with no less than the alphas, didn't hurt either; but she took great care in ensuring her beloved always received the same respect and veneration in return-- if she was royalty, no less than a monarch to Eleanor... habi'b was too soft, too low a word for her liege of the skies, her ves'en.

Their roaming of the deserts finally came to an end one strange night, when they followed a strange line of caravans to the golden city to find the strangest circus imaginable. Intrigued by the offer of work, and having nowhere else to go, the two agreed to stay on as part of the show, soon becoming quite close to the ringleader and mastermind behind it all, Nyarlathotep. It was in the circus that Chani befriended a griffin she went on to name Rapture, and earn a reputation as a master of aerial maneuvers, weaving through the silks and strings as if she had wings herself.
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Guinevere La Pluie

Postby Commander Shepard » Mon Apr 17, 2017 1:14 am

Name: Guinevere La Pluie
Age: 26
Race: Elvian half-born
Gender: Cis female
Orientation: ? (her isolation makes it hard to even understand; later adopts diamoric when with Sable)
Occupation: Artisan -- jewels, glass, gold, silver, etc.

Appearance:
They claim she is shut away for her health, and it's a reason easy enough to accept. Guinevere certainly appears plenty delicate; her Silver Forest heritage plainly visible in her ivory skin, her shimmering hair and her left eye, a delicate blue so light as to appear gray. Her right though, is a gorgeous amber... literally, amber and glass as a matter of fact. She was born with only one eye, but all her life has been provided (and later, created) with glass and jewel replicas so she wouldn't feel dismayed by the condition (she also sometimes wears an eye she's made herself, an empty silver iris against white glass). She wears only simple dresses, hanging to her bare feet, often white, silver or pale gold. While Guinevere is unmarred by the usual weatherings one experiences in life, she is not wholly unblemished. Her hands have it the worst, though small scars and burns are visible along her arms, a few on her feet, and a particularly bad one on her belly, though it is generally hidden. She works regularly with red-hot, even molten, metals and glass, injury is simply unavoidable. Guinevere doesn't mind these marks, though-- after all, she has precious little experience to compare it to, it simply... is. Despite all the jewelry she makes, Guinevere wears no adornments herself.

Personality:
Truth be told... little to speak of. Guinevere has lived her whole life rather apart and alone, worsening as she grew older and no longer needed supervision or tutoring. Her social skills are severely stunted, conversation is a frightening prospect, as is the thought of stepping from her tower, even standing by the window feels like breaking some unspoken rule. Yet... she longs for something new, sick of the shadow of a life she's led and the shadows of lives she may occasionally glimpse cutting through her part of the forest. Even if it's terrifying, the prospect of wasting away in the tower is becoming steadily more frightening... perhaps, sometime, it might become powerful enough to drive her to act.

History:
Little to speak of here, as well. Her mother was a princess (though a fair ways down the line) of a small clan in the Silver Forest, and had a brief affair with a human that led to Guinevere's birth. Like most half-born into the elvian clans, she was quickly shut away-- first, in the home of a rather old elvian who needed the support offered by the princess in exchange for taking the child in; later in a tower some ways away from the main village when her skill became apparent. Despite her half nature, Guinevere had managed to attract the attention of a young Red Flame elkrin-- indeed, even seeming to bond with him and develop a keen understanding of fire, particularly in regards to glass and metalworking. This became apparent when she was found with a Stained Glasswork Dragon later that same year, her and the elkrin working together to repair the little creature's armor and fix new shards to its tiny wings. The work wasn't perfect, but it was enough that, if nurtured, could turn into master craftsmanship... and as a half-born, with less than a century to her, the sooner they began, the better. The tower was lavish to be sure, and until Guinevere was fifteen, she was visited by tutors, ensuring she was decently educated in addition to her constant practice with glass and metals. While she certainly didn't compare with the elvian masters who had been in the craft for centuries, her work was still beautiful and sold quite well, and she was content... enough. However, her tutors left by the time she was eighteen, and from then on, Guinevere was alone. Her supplies were delivered only when she was upstairs, and the bottom door locked from the outside, the only windows being up past the third floor. True, she might've been able to make a key... but the tower was safe, it was good enough. Right

Bonded:
Image

Lucien. Perhaps it was simple youthful naivete that led to Guinevere and Lucien's bond, two children who enjoyed each other's company and thought nothing of the muddled blood that flowed through Guinevere's veins. Though, admittedly, such an easy life does help-- there's never been any real test to it, and although Lucien's shown to be rather even-tempered and calm, who knows what might happen if they're ever put under strain?

Companions:
Over the years, somehow, Guinevere has become an absolute magnet for Glasswork Dragons-- indeed, she has around one of almost every known variety keeping her company in the tower...

Group & Names here
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm

Re: Shepard's Eldemore Characters.

Postby Commander Shepard » Tue May 02, 2017 9:04 am

Name: Calliope Zmätok (Cali)
Age: Appears in her mid to late 20s....?
Race: Half-born Ancient, though she keeps this information as secret as possible.
Gender: Female....? (She/her)
Orientation: Aroace
Occupation: Caretaker of Shepard's (and later, Falk's) pet collection; caretaker of the creatures in the Night Carnival's resting grounds.

Appearance & Personality:
For an Ancient whose human form resembles an Avian and a human mother, Cali came out looking remarkably like someone with more than a hint of Wolfkin. Olive skinned, with wild red hair, and eyes so gold some swear they glow just the tiniest bit, she's not the most striking... but neither is Cali exactly forgettable. Her clothes are a bit haphazard, she's rarely seen without her utility belt and thigh pouches, thick leather bracers on her arms and strong gloves; but when you're regularly working with Drakes, Foo Dogs and even a Sandwyrm or two, you'd want to be prepared at all times too. She's pleasant tempered enough though, often smiling-- maybe smirking, like she knows something you don't and she's dying for the penny to drop. She has an odd marking on her left shoulder, a birthmark that looks rather like a raw scar, in the shape of the marking on Nyarlathotep's own arm.

Cali is extremely friendly, and seems to have a knack for getting along with the creatures of Eld, however great or small. Always ready to brew up a pot of tea and listen to someone's troubles, Calliope also has a bit of a reputation for being a good fortune teller... sort of. You won't ever see her gazing into crystal balls or tea leaves, but let her at a tarot deck-- even a plain old pack of playing cards-- and within ten minutes she'll be laying out possibilities and perspectives that would have never occurred to you in a decade of mulling things over. Her low moods are rare, and unless you've gotten to know her well, hard to catch. She becomes... quieter, is all. A little withdrawn, going about her routine but only with the bare minimum needed, and she spends the rest of her time reading or simply... staring, just waiting for time to pass until things ease. Very rarely, she appears to just... vanish entirely, though she insists that's just times when she can't bring herself to get out of bed, she was just in her room all along-- honest.

Calliope's anger is even rarer though, but Ancients help whoever does tip her to that point. The reaction is... best compared to Avian half-borns when they lose control. Indeed, she resembles less a dragon and more a perverted incarnation of a phoenix; blinding cherry red feathers and hide covering her skin, sporting a long plumed tail and wide feathery wings and razor sharp talons, the sight alone has always been enough to quell any thoughts of a fight. Thankfully, there have only been two instances of such full changes happening in her life-- it's an incredible drain on her physically and mentally, between the actual change and the struggle to keep from falling into a frenzy of bloodlust.

Companions:
Even children of the gods, even gods of chaos, are bound by some rules. Calliope can't bond to any creature, but her nature does give her a marked advantage in communicating with and befriending them. She's met many over the years, and her current employment puts her in charge of nearly 2,000 unique individuals. Of these though, a few have a special place in her heart.

Image Andromeda, a magnificent Star King Foo Dog who seems to be Cali's constant shadow, especially whenever there's a reading going on. She often sits still as stone, and seems to enjoy startling Calliope's guests when she finally moves.

ImageImage

Tony and Tock, Cali's favorite... guests, from the Hallow's Eve where Shepard met her uncles. They're actually pretty quiet, and not around too often as they are favorite attractions when the carnival travels about.

Image

Alpaca Acapella is the only creature Cali claims entirely as her own. An Oriental Jader won from a raffle some place she can't quite remember, Alpaca has proven an invaluable asset in keeping track of the hoard. She's never been known to bark, and only very rarely growls... yet, she's been seen staring down the Sandwyrm until it finally relents and goes back to its den, so who knows what's going on with her.

History:
Calliope wasn't meant to exist.

She doesn't know terribly much about how her parents got involved, just that her father had been summoned under immensely dire circumstances and he'd been... impressed, that a thoroughly unremarkable and not even particularly brave human would so readily tie herself to a cursed bond if it meant bringing an end to strife. Truth be told, while there was a grudging respect, there had also been outright animosity and hate... which manifested in some. Unusual ways; which eventually manifested in Calliope's birth.

And truth be told... neither Nyarlathotep or Gabriella were ready, or even really willing, to be parents. Really, it was for the best that Cali was left in the care of a band of Mystics who'd dedicated themselves to the the study of Chaos magic-- she was spared the fights that, though less, still came up between her parents, and found a loving, stable environment that kept her from being too frightened and out of control as her powers manifested. By the time she was five, she was certainly interesting to be around-- pitchers of cream would suddenly be filled with solid marble (or, one happy time, sweet cream and blueberries turned to solid silver and sapphires), wheels breaking at exactly the wrong second or creatures that had no right being around suddenly lumbering out of the woods. She experienced minor bouts of transformation, too-- feathers here and there, nails becoming talons for a few minutes before returning to normal, small things like that. It was around this time that she met her father for the first time-- he'd begun to mellow out some, and well... as the self-styled patron god of half-borns, he had an obligation to at least meet his spawn, right?

The memories of her mother are fainter-- Cali knows that, by then, her parents had settled into a much healthier relationship, but it was only a short time later that Gabriella just... vanished, lost even to the perception of Chaos himself. What little Cali remembers is good though, wisps of memory full of warmth and love. The next several years were spent traveling the world, occasionally spending time with her father in his... home (really, there's not a better term for the pocket void-dimension he would bring her to), learning to control her emerging magic-- even if it was only a fraction of the raw reality warping Nyarlathotep held, it could still be devastating if not held in check. Indeed, Cali learned this firsthand when she was about sixteen, though she never speaks of the event beyond that it was what made her leave her adopted family... and that no one actually died.

She spent some time wandering after that, finally coming to a halt after finding a battered flyer on the ground just outside Alabaster City.

"Help Wanted: Caretaker. Can provide all lodging and necessities required. Must be willing to work with every known creature of Eldemore and then some."

It was through this, true and pure chance, that Calliope found herself in contact with Shepard, a half-born Avian with a truly mind-boggling collection of creatures, and almost as curious a history. Shepard never did talk about just how or why they had so many (and so rare!) creatures, nor why they could be gone for months at a time, just that there were Reasons. Her own perceptions helped Cali come up with a strong theory as to what those reasons were, and the pink-eyed crow following Shepard around confirmed at least a few. But, Cali never felt the need to pry-- she had a good home, plenty of space, plenty of companions, and a quiet place to meet her father every weekend or so for a nice cup of tea and some catching up.

Really, as far as being a spawn of Chaos goes, it's all quite a nice routine.

Other:

-Keeps her powers under wraps as much as possible, the only exception being when she does card readings-- and even then, it's only to better discern what actual possibilities might face someone. She can see many, but not all, possibilities, and never knows what the actual outcome will be, but it's a good help when someone needs advice.

-Though she hasn't met them in person yet, Cali is well informed about her uncles and cousin, and quite looks forward to the day she can meet them... whenever that may be.

-Has never been turned into a dog; for bad behavior or otherwise. Did bug her dad for weeks on end to be turned into a griffin once though, and spent a good week enjoying the form before getting bored.
Image
Image
Image
.....
..........................................
(They/he/she)
Call me Shepard or Paine!

..........................................
...art|| trade
.Shep || -
.............
........................
...You can fight
...like a krogan
run like a leopard
but you'll never be better
than Commander Shepard!

........................
.............
..................
...by viddi
.................
...Image
User avatar
Commander Shepard
 
Posts: 408
Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2013 11:47 pm


Return to Creative Writing

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest