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06/24/2022 05:33 PM
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Girls! Girls! Girls! (Not Formatted for Mobile)
Disclaimer: Gods and Goddesses in their verse come in two categories- Manifestation and Embodiment. Then are broken into categories and types. Minor Goddesses have limited power or few followers; whereas Major Goddesses are the opposite with complete control and many temples/songs/devoted worshippers.
Manifestation Gods weild their element(s). Typically they command a certain realm, look relatively human, and can use their power/affect their element on a whim. Example: Zeus and his lightning. He chooses to summon it.
Manifestation Gods often rely on their name and deeds being known to give them spiritual strength.
Embodiment Gods are their element(s). They disguise themselves in bodies but are as wildly unteathered as their associated power. Example: Erebus personifies Darkness. He is what he effects.
Embodiment Gods do not require fealty to a name or pilgrimages to a specific place. They are everywhere and anywhere their element is, and whether mortals curse or rejoice at it, they will exist however long their element does.
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Name: Umiaq'karinvk
Pronunciation: Oomyahk - kaur - een - vuk
Nickname: Qka (KU-ah)
Minor Goddess of Famine
Major Goddess of Devastation
Eye color: violet-black, reflect crystal blue in direct light
Hair color: charcoal gray to black ombre
Physical details: skintone ranges from mid-fair to light tan, each shift to humanoid shape slightly different than the one before
Big teeth, thick and sharp
Extremely tall (shrinks to 11' tall indoors), buff and boundlessly curvy; every fifteen ounces of muscle is met by thirty ounces of fat
Large hands and feet with thick, hooked, black claws
Dresses in furs of fallen comrades and deceased family members; touching said furs without permission is an act of war
History (condensed): From a long line of snow and wind spirits. She is the first in three generations to take form. Naught fifty years into leading a clan of Snow Leopard shifters, Qka fell in love with thunderstorms and left to search for their source. Believing all storms to have a soul, as she did. Eventually wanting to engulf the entirety of that terrible, beautiful, destruction.
Without their leader, her clan scattered. When finally Qka attained her goals, she went about gathered them up one by one. The blessings of lightning and thunder helping to ferret them into her flock again.
Personality: Her creed lays somewhere between an "ást eiđr" brand Viking and an El Dorado (2000) Conquistador. The Viking mentality relys heavily on community, long standing tradition, and a strict honor system. Whereas a Conquistador values only themselves and the strength of their Divine Right. Qka is fair in most cases, but firm in her authority.
Aside from that, she is boisterously friendly. Adores banquets, prefers a gladiator pit. Has many scars, which she proudly enhances by using bright blue paint to trace their most jagged edges.
Forms: Goddess, Human, Snow Leopard.
The latter two are typically bipedal. Though her Leopard is more like a tank or a bear, than a cat. It's a body made for mass murder.
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Name: Elipka ♥
Pronunciation: Eh - leap - kuh
Nickname: Elli
Minor Goddess of Scribes/Record Keeping and Written Communication
Major Goddess of History, specifically dealing with Past Lives and Karma
Eye color: timid gray
Hair color: silver hair with dark gray tips
Physical details: fair skinned, ear-shaped body, delicate facial features, persistent snow leopard ears and big fluffy tail
History (condensed): Orphaned as a cub. Endearingly considered Qka's mate by their enclave. Qka doesn't believe anyone has enough to offer Elli to be worthy of having her, and has thus pretended to want her for herself. Figuring only the brashest, bravest, of men could someday make themselves capable of winning Elli's hand. (Elli desperately hopes for such a person to appear) As in public, Qka behaves as if Elli is a disposable but dutiful little wife. Jokes about when they'll have cubs, keeps her on her lap, and has Elli attend her as a slave would. Which irritates Elli, though not enough to make her refuse, staying as Qka's fake bride is starting to drain her patience.
As a Goddess Elli keeps track of sins and holds them as a guillotine. Waiting until the mass of wrongdoing grows too heavy for the one incurring them to ever atone for in their present life, then cuts their current incarnation short, releasing them to try again in a new timeline/body/circumstance. Or worse, kills their body and plucks their soul from the cycle of rebirth until they can be 'cleansed'.
Fun Fact: The bell she carries is an heirloom. Its chimes can only be heard by those nearing a long overdue death, brought on by their own disregard for the cosmic balance of things. When she tips the bell upside down, the hammer inside becomes a vicious beast* and drags the listener to their fated "doom". Be it cleansing or rebirth.
*Footnote: It's basically a Mario chain chomp but gooey.
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Name: Ringh-ah Dihngadawn
Pronunciation: Ring - Uh, Ding Dong
Nickname: Ringh or Ringa
Demonic Goddess of Peccadillo
(Minor sins and offenses)
"The Hammer inside The Bell"
Angelic beauty with a warped internal compass. There is no 'gray area' for Ringh. Every infraction deserves ultimate suffering. When she held a lordly throne, she ripped through the underworlds until tossed to the living. She murdered countless mortals and immortals alike. Adding their strength to hers. It was quite the unlucky feat to be trapped into the accursed Aurora Bell.
Since being leashed, Ringh became an extension of her "owner" and thus only able to loose herself upon the world at their behest. While Elli technically has been trained to wield Ringh, her mental fortitude is barely strong enough to contain the chaotic Goddess.
Depiction of Pre-Bell Physical Form
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06/18/2022 08:05 PM
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Character Biographies (Formatted for mobile)
I do recommend the brothers going out in pairs,
but ultimately the choice is yours.
Weicht "Wrei" Nathara
Age: Early to Mid 20's
Eye color: #5ac3e3 (lt. blue)
Hair: #f2f9ff (milk white)
Skin: #f0ddd6 (fair/lt. peach)
Does the character drink regularly? No, socially
Does the character smoke? No, asthmatic
Height: 6’3”
Snobby pretty boy who will snark at your choice of shoes
and defend you to the death against strangers.
Ideal Settings: Somewhere and Somewhen
he can be a Prince- Or claw the eyes out
of the current Prince and ascend their throne
sans consequences, obvi.
(Default naga - has magic)
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Tillian "Tilly" Diri-Rune
Age: Late teens to Mid 20's
Eye color: #678892 (gray blue)
Hair: (opalescent white)
Skin: #ad928b (sallow sunkissed)
Does the character drink regularly?
Never had a single drink
Does the character smoke? Never once
Height: 5’11”
Soft, gentle boy with a pervasive darkness inside.
Ideal Settings: Somewhen slow paced or
with deliberate pockets of direct interaction.
(Default werewolf(ish) - has magic)
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Taeriun "Tae" Diri-Rune
Age: Mid to Late 20's
Eye color: #e6c377 (yellow)
Hair: #b0b1b5 (dove gray)
Skin: #b77d70 (tan)
Does the character drink regularly? Occasionally
Does the character smoke?
Dislikes but weak to peer pressure
Height: 6’2”
Frat Boy energy. Thinks he's a Himbo.
Ideal Settings: Somewhen noisy, action packed,
where he can take charge and fail spectacularly.
(Default werewolf - no magic)
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Dunn
Age: Mid to Late 20's
Eye color: #ab9313 (amber)
Hair: #???
Skin: #???
Does the character drink regularly? ???
Does the character smoke? ???
Height: 6’6”
Prefers to be nonverbal and thus appears
mysterious when really he's just a grump.
Ideal Settings: Bodyguard, Anti Hero,
Reluctant Sidekick.
(Default human - no magic?)
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Vaethelian - Val
Age: Early to Mid 20's
Eye color: #9d32a1 (bright violet)
Hair: #151221 (deep blue black)
Skin: #fae6d1 (pale*)
Does the character drink regularly? No
Does the character smoke? Maybe
Height: 5’8”
Never met a fight he wasn't willing to headbutt.
*Secretly fantastic with cosmetics.
Ideal Settings: Somewhen a troublemaker won't
immediately be hanged for crimes
and generally disturbing the peace.
(Default dragon - limited magic)
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Eundroe (E-uhnd-row)
Age: Late 20's to Mid 30's
Eye color: #68751e (moss green)
Hair: #3c463e (gray emerald green)
Skin: #c7b5a9 (cool fair)
Does the character drink regularly? Yes
Does the character smoke? Rarely
Height: 7’9”
Shy giant who loves nature.
Ideal Settings: Somewhen an Assistant, Medic,
Mom Friend type is useful.
(Default dragon - very magical)
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Aiden "Desdemona" Wreign
Age: Late 20's to Early 30's
Eye color: #818c6b (hazy peridot)
Hair: #e8d004 (blond)
Skin: #99632b (midtone tan)
Does the character drink regularly? No
Does the character smoke? No
Height: 6'7”
Flamboyant bisexual. Will kill for love.
Will kill for sport. Has killed unintentionally.
Ideal Settings: Hiring an assasin, being
pursued by an assasin, rivals chasing
same target, Innocent A & Devilish B trope
(Default Syphoner - somewhat magical)
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Adrastos "Adarra" Imamura
Age: Early to Late 20's
Eye color: #2b9183 (cyan teal)
Hair: (strawberry blond)
Skin: #cd9b6b (light tan w/freckles)
Does the character drink regularly? Yes
Does the character smoke? Yes
Height: 6’0”
Clumsy, shy, clingy type.
Keep your hands at the
level of your eyes. His too.
Ideal Settings: Just about anywhere/when
(Default Shapeshifter - no other magic)
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06/16/2022 05:59 PM
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Reply/Writing Examples (recent & active!)
Excerpts! (Style in parenthesis after description)
Sorry in advance. Grammar is secondary to flow/pacing and character's personal style.
How I Set a scene (Novella):
As the horses lurched them forward, Iliana swallowed back a telltale prickling of tears. Glass clinked, wood crates shifted, the smells that’d overpowered the worn almost dusty smell of the wagon began to fade as she shuttered her eyes from the view of her dwelling becoming the horizon. Determined not to dream of what it might be like to be loved enough to inspire political schemes with scant luck of success. To possess more than a lonely grave-full of devotion. To rise and lay down again cocooned in the surety of loyal family. Not for the first time, her determination afforded her nothing. Iliana dreamed she had the childhood she never allowed herself to yearn. Waking from that security in the barbarian’s encampment, the place where she would be married and live until discovered or disposed of, cut deeply into her weary marrow. As the last vestiges of sleep scattered to the wind, she climbed out into the midafternoon haze. Breathing deeply of the bittersweet almost-freedom. When she stood alone like this, it grew harder to resist the labels affixed to her spine. A bastard princess by birth, false princess by the machinations of cowards, a bride as likely to be wed as to be slain, how many banner-less titles would she carry to the afterlife? Would Death take pity and present her with a crown? Some form of compensation a requirement to dare entreat her forgiveness of indignities she’d suffered, so she wouldn’t haunt her half-sister’s linage until the covenant of realms came to an end.
(This was less than 20% of the whole starter) _____ How I Respond (Para): However rusty, Donahue and Blot weren't smooth-brained to the notions of Orcish magic. Nor were they ignorant of suffering, sincerity, or the expedient changes their young perch underwent. Rather it was the overwhelming reek of warmth and lust radiating from shrinking build that struck both half-lizards wholly stupid.
Nevermind Blot, smushed beneath Cutter's abrupt collapse, unaffected by the blow of his head loudly connecting with the floor. Donahue became an impromptu pillow for how he was tucked behind, beneath, Cutter's head and neck. It was Donahue who moved first. Releasing Cutter and clattering to the ground, hurrying to assist in guiding troubled youth in sitting up. Careful hands at his shoulderblades as former gecko slid close to offer bodily support.
Witnessing increasing distress, Blot snatched the limbs he could away from himself and Cutter. Wriggling helplessly from the combined difficulties of a pant leg that hadn't become smaller when its contents did. Blot glancing to Donahue, who widened his eyes and shook his head, clearly refusing to be the one who considered possible solutions. Narrowing his eyes, Blot leaned his face towards Donahue as if making his frown more apparent would change his partner's mind.
It worked immediately.
(This is about 45% of my response)
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How I Move scenes (MultiPara):
Being in no immediate danger, Henry forcibly stretched his shoulders down from his ears. Another warm surge freshly coated his fingers. Instinctively, he blew his nose. The evidence of exploding pain tore through his face. Gritting his teeth, which ratcheted up the pressure in his jaw and temples, he screwed up eyes and brows to keep out much of the sunlight as he could. Attempting to meditate as his breathing evened out. It’d not been a significant distance from the room they’d fled and the outdoors. Certainly his nose wasn’t impeding him worse than whatever waning aperitif edged off the champagne buzz Bash curated prior to the disastrous pronouncement.
Well, Henry was familiar with the other entailments. Prying open his eyes, he felt the familiar comfort of strategizing smoothing over his raging anxieties. He pulled the handkerchief down and leaned over the grass again, carefully shooting off an email to Margret’s solicitor, his lawyer, and the unfortunate bowling pin who’d gotten caught in the bear trap of this last will and testament same as the rest of them. It might kill him to speak anything remotely complimentary to Bash. Didn’t really consider trying. He wasn’t going to express appreciation for being literally dragged along into Bash’s side of things. The messier side. Especially if this wasn’t an elaborate prank or a virulent misinterpretation.
“Shut. Up.” Meant to be a derisive hiss, Henry gruffly sighed instead. “I have a ride coming. I’ll get a copy of the documents now they’ve been made public record.” Pressing the handkerchief back, the stiffness of its unevenly drying patches prodded sore, tender, skin. “Lay low f-“ Groaning, he bit back the command. “Nevermind.” Stepping closer to swipe his foot out and strike downed downer’s lower leg with his lightly muddied shoe, “Get on your feet, Sebastian. The sky isn’t falling on you yet.” With a vague gesture towards the sleek towncar picking its way through the brimming parking lot, he dabbed his nose experimentally and pocketed his phone.
“Don’t antagonize me right now unless you want to march yourself back to the wolves.” Maybe he was saying ‘thank you’ after all. In actions more than words. He’d never had a decent grasp on language when they’d been alright. An odd detail to recollect then.
Throwing the handkerchief away, Henry straightened out his clothes and hair before sauntering off to the summoned vehicle. Ducking in, he rattled instructions to the driver and settled back with a frosted gaze. Numbness lingered in his periphery. He pushed it away. Denial tripped in his gut. What if this was real? What was he, any of them, actually meant to do? Forfeit the ultimate Coup de Tête and final trial set forth by the ever-baleful Mrs. Moors? If it was true, he reminded himself almost desperately. Sacrificing his pocket square to his trickling nostrils; Henry had the wild thought he’d cried more for a busted snout than his dead mother.
The ride to Henry’s private loft in the city may as well be a thousand miles from the main house and the rest of their abhorrent family. Traffic made the journey thrice as long. He’d already called-in a delivery of his favorite comfort foods from half a dozen restaurants on the block across. Everything from Pho to Italian. Bash had been the furthest, close to anyway, thing from his mind when he indulged the urge. Henry wondered if the rattled deviant would demand he share. Frowning at the thought, Henry chose not to mention it.
Henry’s building was a recent construction. Heedlessly shining as the sun set. He moved with decisive swiftness. If Bash fell behind, it was his own problem. There was likely nowhere else for him to go, no one whom he could trust, and a serious chance he could be murdered in a million different ways before Henry received the copies he requested and started to unravel something of relevant consequence. Presuming there was a measurable dribble of sense puttering around in his pickled brain, Bash would catch up and stay close.
(This is probably a cool 60ish% of the total reply)
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Thanks for reading!
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06/14/2022 08:08 PM
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Overdone and Underused
Howdy! 
Alright, I don’t take this site too seriously.
I’m almost entirely an OOC account until we’re actually in a story, then I’ll dedicate my all to what we’ve got.Far as rules-
Do your best at grammar and length. I can work with just about anything. My novella skills are rustier than heck, but if you don’t mind me getting my sea-legs with you, I’ll try to be worth your while.
Don’t be a bigot. Ableism, fetishism, outside of worldbuilding –misia or –phobia isn’t tolerated. Needless to say, gonna say it anyway, no “white power” garbage. Get tf out.And that’s it!
I came back by request, but I have 6 goodish boys to choose from.
If my informal style isn’t your jam that’s no problem  Can leave any time, no hard feelings!
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