~JaneDoe~
- Locked due to inactivity on Apr 14, '18 3:54am
Thread Topic: ~JaneDoe~
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I love that plot!
Would you like to be Muse A, or Muse B? -
I WOULD BE TOTALLY CHILL WITH EITHER I'M JUST EXCITED SO YOU CAN PICK HONESTLY I LOVE THEM BOTH
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Okay ^w^
I'll be Muse B! Character sheets? -
I will take the fairy boy then.
You can include what you feel is important to know about your character, along with the basics. Is it okay if I use a realistic face claim? -
That's fine! I'll be working on my character sheet. It may be short and simple, but my responses will make up for that. ^~^
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Alright! Let me get mine done up. c:
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Name: Aurel Wilder
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Physical Appearance: Aurel
Personality: Aurel is a fairly reserved person. Although his head is always filled with thoughts, he barely ever finds cause to voice them, especially since he knows his seriously everyone takes what he says. Because of all the responsibility placed on him by his village, Aurel is practical and hardworking, and doesn't believe in the idea of taking a day off or resting. He seems to have an almost endless supply of energy, and though he is usually quiet, he is upbeat and tries to put out a positive vibe. However, this isn't to say that he's an optimist. No, Aurel is a realist, but he tends to be very around the bush with how he sees things. He'll go out of his way to avoid upsetting someone else, even if it inconveniences him.
Abilities: Weather Divination, Xenoglossy (knowing a language without ever learning it), Divination (predicting the future), Healing
Limitations: Although Aurel is usually accurate in his predictions as far as the weather, he is unable to actively predict the future. Usually images will come to him in dreams, but often times they are confusing and he is unable to interpret them. Likewise, although he can heal, it exhausts him. He prefers to use his "six sense" to create remedies for minor illnesses. However, if there is a grave enough energy, he'll do what he can- But the xenoglossia comes and goes, and often fails him when he's working under pressure. The spells that will come to him are never in any language he can write down or explain out of context.
Likes: Reading, sunsets and sunrises, the ocean, warm clothing, his mother
Dislikes: Alcohol, fire, large animals (but they like him!), winter storms, the dark -
ame: Manov (Last name is unknown)
Gender: Male
Age: 18-19
S/O: Undecided
Appearance: He is slightly tall, and averagely built. Even though he was ignored a lot, he decided to train himself. He walks with a slight limp from where he tried leaping off the edge off a small cliff in an attempt to gain, or control his 'magic'.
Clothing Style: He will usually wear one solid color, but there are times when he will dress up to feel good about himself. He also carries a home-made dagger for hunting purposes and he will wear it on a belt that is always on his person.
Bio: Some of it will develop in the RP
Other: He has a wolf that will follow him around. He named her Tango.
(Would you like to start?) -
I can start as soon as I get home from school. c:
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Okay!
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If he could pretend that the dark stains on his shirt were from oil and not blood, Aurel might be able to convince himself that all of this is just a bad dream. It would be one that he had had before- Mother, stomach cut open by a man wearing a black mask across his nose and mouth. It's always the same, her trying desperately to tell him something with her dying breaths before he screams himself awake, the very woman stumbling into his bedroom with a candle and a face full of concern.
But this isn't a dream. The burns on his arms where one of the Masks (that's what he's taken to calling the group of bandits in his head, ever since the first dream) caught him with a torch are very real, so painful that he feels like he could black out at any second. And the black stain on his shirt isn't oil or tar or paint or any of the other hundreds of things he wishes it could be; it's mother's blood, and she's dead. It isn't a dream.
Whatever she had meant to tell him, she'd died before she got the chance. Just as he'd seen in his dreams. The fact that he's been through this before doesn't make it any easier. Aurel sat in the middle of the pasture clutching his mother, screaming for several long minutes as she laid limp in his arms. When he'd come to his senses, it was too late. The smoke rising up in the distance was thick, black and angry, and by the time he made it back to the village... It was gone.
Now, hours later, day had long since turned into night. Aurel wasn't sure when he'd fallen off of his horse, but he had a bloody gash on his forehead, and had woken up in a part of the forest that even he didn't recognize. He must have fallen unconscious at some point, but he wasn't sure how much time had passed. Red, his father's blood-bay mare, stared at him cautiously a few yards away. He lurched forward, remembering what had brought him there, emptying the remains of his lunch into the leaves. Wiping a hand against the back of his mouth when he was finished, Aurel sat back against the log, staring off into space. Was it safe to call for help? -
Manov walked through the forest, his dagger unsheathed and gripped tightly in his hand. He was looking for his next meal, unknown if he would even find something this late at night. He looked around, and as if right on cue, his stomach gurgled, begging to be fed. He sucked his stomach inward, feeling a slight jolt of pain pulsing through his body. He hadn't eaten a good meal in a few days, but he pushed onward.
As the night progressed, his eyes grew heavy and his heart had lost all hope that he would find any food. He looked around the clearing he was now in, and heard something shuffle in the distance. "What is that?" he muttered to himself. He stopped breathing for a moment to soak in the sounds of the forest around him and heard the shuffling again. He walked over cautiously to where the noise was coming from and spotted a horse. His heart lept with an unforeseen joy. He wasn't too keen on killing a big animal like that, but he could always come back if he needed. The horse looked groomed and taken care of. Maybe it hadn't had a bath in a day or two, but other-wise it was perfect. Before Manov could advance toward the horse, he saw something that made him halt. There, near the horse, staring into the trees was a young man about his age.
The boy looked like he had traveled to Hell itself and back. This slightly intrigued Manov, so he stepped forward, the satchel he carried rubbing against the bushes as he passed. "Who are you, and why are you here?" he said, his voice shaking slightly. He hadn't talked since the beginning of the journey, and now it seemed he was gong to have to get used to his voice again. -
The voice of another person startled Aurel, but he was too exhasted to do much more than turn to look at him. If he was a Mask, if he were there to kill him, he wouldn't stand a chance. In the dim moonlight filtering through the trees overhead, though, he saw that the boy had no mask. He was holding a knife, however, and Aurel instinctively reached towards his own belt, only to remember that he hadn't had time to grab anything before fleeing.
He felt like such a coward, unable to save a single life out of the dozens in the village. When he'd been presented the chance to fight, he had ran. What use were his so-called gifts if there was no long anyone to help? Perhaps this boy would make his death quick and painless.
"Aurel," He said quietly after some mental debate, "Aurel Wilder. M-My... My village is, was.. It's gone. They burnt it to the ground, locked everyone inside the dining hall. 'S gone. All of them, all of it," He curled his hands painfully into his pants, digging his nails into his skin through the fabric in an attempt to ground himself. "I'm the only one left alive." -
The words that came from Aurel's mouth came as a shock, but somewhere deep down inside, he should have known this. He did remember hearing about something happening, but he never did keep up with the village gossip. No one wanted to talk to him anyway, and he preferred to keep it that way. He walked over to Aurel and extended a hand to help him up. "What exactly happened..and why?" he asked, thinking how bad it must have been for the young boy.
Soon, both of them were standing. "I know somewhere we could go. I'm not very liked, but it would be better than staying here in the forest. There are things out here that could tear even the strongest men to shreds." He finally sheathed his dagger, and looked at the horse again, walking over to it and running his hands through it's mane. "You don't happen to have any food do you?" he said, realizing how soft the horses mane actually was. He was thinking about walking back to the village and bringing Aurel with him. He could get him some help. He didn't know how long that would take though. Hopefully not as long as he anticipated. -
"I don't know why," He lied, watching the other boy cautiously, while trying to push himself into a standing position. He leaned heavily against the tree once he had himself upright, eyes still glazed with pain that he was trying to hide. "They just came... During the middle of the day, from the north. They tore through our fields and cut all of our shepherds down, took to the village and set the crops ablaze. They destroyed everything. There's nothing left but ashes.. And bodies."
His hands were bloody, too, he realized while staring down at them while he spoke. It was crusted over his knuckles and under his nails. "I was... I was out at the river. Fishing. When I saw them coming, the men.. I hid behind a beavers dam. I-I could have.. Could have cut ahead, I could have ran and warned them. You shouldn't help me. I have nothing to offer you, not even food or water."
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