✪ Ceras's Character Dump

[♔ CERASRI]

✪ Cerasri's Character Dump!

Current characters & character ideas will be posted here~ ♥

CHARACTERS IN USE:

Fayne Undaria. 18. Undine. Sorceress. Sea Maiden.

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Remy Duquette. 27. Human. No Magic. Con-Artist.

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Raeggos Shaelendren. 866. Elf. Summoning. Traitor.

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Ygritte Blackburn. 34. Shape Shifter. No Magic. Enforcer.

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[FAYNE UNDARIA]

Fayne Nadine Undaria

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[/b], yep so please call me that from now on. i've got 10 birds flying round my head and they don't half get annoying but when you've been around for 21 years you get used to it. have you heard about None yet though I might have one ore two more planned ;D, 'cause they are right awesome so don't mess with me, 'cause i've read the rules and i say hi c:. so read my application yo!?! kthxbi.[/ul][/blockquote][/size]

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FULL NAME!?! - Fayne Undaria
NICK NAMES!?! - Fayne will do quite simply enough, thank you. Sometimes though, in his softer moments, her brother will call her Fay. He is the only one able to call her that though--thank you very much.
AGE!?! - 18.
OCCUPATION!?! - She supposes she could be called a maiden of the sea. In reality though, Fayne has no occupation at all. Ah, but it would be nice wouldn't it, to go on an adventure? Oh if only she weren't quite so scared. Perhaps then she could bring herself farther out of the water than a few paces.
MEMBER GROUP!?! - Undine.
RELIGION!?! Paganism.
MAGIC!?! - Sorcery, for all she doesn't use it she's got a fair amount of power. Enough to defend herself, at the very least, should her brother not be there and a ruffian attack.
SEXUALITY!?! - Ambiguously Heterosexual. Though she prefers the company of men, Fayna cannot say for sure that if she cared for a woman enough, she would not fall for her. Love after all, is a fickle thing. It knows no master, nor mistress, and picks whom it pleases.
GENDER!?! - female.
PLAYED BY!?! - nastya zhidkova

LIKES!?! -

• her brother (he is one of the few things she has in this world. It would be foolish of her, not to like him yes? And he has done so many things for her, too many to count. It is no wonder then, that Fayne would do anything Trith should he just ask.)
• cold mornings (there is nothing like the crisp cool air against one's skin, and Fayne has found she likes the sensation very much indeed. Tendrils of frost picking at her skin, a feeling that only comes once she surfaces from the water on a particularly cold morning. It is strange to feel that sudden bite, and it makes here feel just the slightest bit braver rather than her normal timid self.)
• people(timid though she might be, Fayne has a true love for the people of the surface. They are so interesting, so varied and so colored. She could watch them all day. It is so different than under the water, where everything and everyone is colored with the same blue sheen the moment you go beneath the surface.)
• adventures (oh you might not think it when looking at her, all timid smiles and stutters but Fayne loves a good adventure as much as the next undine. Well, next person really, considering most of her race would rather be content to sit beneath the waves and watch. Now if only she could work on the voice and courage to actually go on one.)
• the surface (Fayne's love for the surface is a different kind of love indeed. It is a frightening one, but a love none the less and while her brother might be content to sit beneath the waves without a care to the humans above, Fayne would like nothing more to explore. The only problem perhaps, is working up the voice (and the courage) to tell Trith that.)

.
DISLIKES!?! -

• loud noises (Ignoring the fact that loud noises hurt her ears, they startle her, sending her jumping. Really, must people slam doors so often? )
• herself (or perhaps, her own timidity. Oh if only she could raise her voice to say what she truly thought, what she truly wanted, without caring about what her brother (or anyone really) thought.)
• tall people (perhaps not a dislike but merely intimidated by. Being of rather short stature it stands to see that she might be frightened by a man who towers heads higher than her, yes?)
• meat (though fine with eating the occasional fish, Fayne cannot understand how the races above the surface can stand to kill the furry creatures that inhabit it for food. Surely the faces the animal made as it was being down were enough of a deterrent, yes? At the very least, Fayne knows one thing. She will not eat meat if she can help it, much preferring the taste of vegetables and greens instead. At the very least, they do not stare at her with pleading eyes as they are about to be slaughtered.)
• being pressured (timid by nature, if there is one thing Fayne hates above all others it is the feeling of being pressured. She does not make decisions easily, and being pressured to make a choice faster merely makes her do the opposite and it turns out quite badly for everyone really.)

GOALS!?! -

• to go on an adventure (it wouldbe an exciting thing, she thinks, if only she weren't so terrified by the prospect.)
• make her brother proud (Trith is Fayne's world and if there is one thing Fayne would give anything for, it is to see a look of pride on Fayne's face when he speaks of her. To no longer be the timid sister to be protected but rather, the sister that could be an equal rather than a burden.)

FEARS!?! -

• disappointing her brother (she's already seen a look of disappointment on her parent's faces and to see such a look on Trith's face would absolute devastate her. It would mean she was useless, worthless and that above anything, is a fate that Fayne fears above all others.)
• losing her fins (it is natural of an undine to fear such a thing yes? The water after all is home, and to lose that would be a terrifying thing indeed.)
• her brother being hurt(as if disappointing him is not enough, Fayne would die if her brother was hurt. It would tear her apart inside and as such, timid as she is, she will do everything in her power to prevent such a thing from happening.)

STRENGTHS!?! -

• intelligent
• resourceful
• kind
• open hearted

WEAKNESS!?! -

• timid
• clumsy
• naive
• uncertain

OVERALL!?! - By all appearances, Fayne appears to be a shy girl. This of course, is true. She's timid, often quiet at times, prone to stuttering and more like to listen silently than speak her own mind. This does not mean however, that the young undine does not have a cord of steel.

On the contrary, Fayne adores adventure novels and would love to take her part in one, if only she did know her own faults too well. After all, what sort of adventurer would want a traveling partner who could not be parted from water too long and could not speak her mind? The answer of course is very few, and though she longs for it, Fayne knows that her dream is simply that--just a dream and that she must content herself with reading adventure novels instead of partaking in an adventure herself.

Open hearted, kind and naive to a fault, Fayne knows little of the surface world and on the few occasions she gathers up the courage to step from beneath the water's death, she has given up her entire coin purse to some poor soul on occasion. Do not however, think she is stupid. She's quite intelligent really, if a bit new to the ways of the surface. Open to new things and willing to listen, even if she'll stammer uncertainly for a while, she enjoys learning of new things. If only she didn't stiffen in a crowd and lose control of her tongue when faced with someone even remotely intimidating.

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EYES!?! - a lavender so pale it seems blue in some lights and pink in others.
HAIR!?! - snow white in color and reaching just to her shoulders with blunted bangs.
FACE!?! - Heart faced with rounded cheeks and plush lips curved into a cupid's bow, Fayne is like most undine, an attractive face to look at. Youth however, leaves her cheeks slightly more plump and as such, she can appear to be younger than her age suggests.
BODY!?! - Standing at just barely 5', Fayne is small, tiny even with a petite frame made all the smaller by her thin arms and all in all it gives her a rather frail appearance.
UNUSUAL!?! - other than the fact that her hair is white and thus, quite a shock if one is used to the more natural black, browns and blondes of humans, nothing at all.
OVERALL!?! - The first thing that comes to mind when looking at Fayne is white. She has pale skin, nearly the same shade as her hair and the only color seems to be the soft rose of her lips. The fact that she normally dresses in colors of similar paleness (white, sea foam and a soft pale blue among them) certainly does not help things in the least. She has an almost frail look to her, as if she would break at the slightest touch and often her lips, though plush, will be chapped and broken, an after effect of the need to bite her lips when nervous.

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MOTHER!?! - Maris Undaria, 60, water maiden.
FATHER!?! - Muir Undaria, 68, guardian.
SIBLINGS!?! - brother: Trith Undaria, 25, guardian.
IMPORTANT!?! ------
FINALLY!?! - The youngest child of the undine Muir and Maris of Undaria, Fayne was born to her parents late in life, 7 years after the birth of her elder brother Trith. Quiet even as a child, Fayne did not connect well with the other undine children her age. She stayed to herself, intimidated by her peers and preferred the company of scrolls and books (all protected by either magic or powerful potions.)

Protected as a child due to a sickly nature, she grew up very sheltered and often times, only had her brother and books for company. And the times when her brother was busy well, she always had her scrolls. Her parents were kind, if a bit distant, and it was to Trith that Fayne felt the closest. She looked up to him for everything, attempting to toddle after him whenever she worked up the braver and swimming behind corners so she would not be found out.

As the years passed, not much changed, least of Fayne. Oh she grew taller sure (if not by much) but she still stayed the quiet timid girl, protected by her brother and innocent of the things on the surface world. No snatches of the plague above reached her ears, and even after it was done with, the most she heard were the barest of whispers.

Even now, two years after the whispered plague that had decimated the kingdom on the surface, Fayne is more than a little bit unaware of the happenings on the world. Perhaps then, that's why she wants to go the surface. Even if she can't yet quite work up the courage.

so all lyrics used are credited too PARAMORE, thee best female fronted band in the world. everything else is credited to rawr_dinosaur at caution. don't steal this template or take the credit off, if you do i shall be forced to come and pull your eyes out with a spork!?! 'cause you know you love sporks!?! and they are the best extracting eyeballs.

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STATUS. in use
RACE. undine
JOB. sea-maiden
ROMANTIC STATUS. single
INTERESTED IN. no one yet~ ;D
LIVES. The depths of Laroona Lake
FAVORITE LOCATION. The edge of the lake is very pretty, but Fayne also has a soft spot for the small settlement of Ashvale--perhaps because its the closest settlement to the lake, and thus the easiest for her to get to.

[REMINGTON DUQUETTE]

Remington "Remy" Duquette

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[/b], yep so please call me that from now on. i've got 10 birds flying round my head and they don't half get annoying but when you've been around for 21 years you get used to it. have you heard about Fayne Undaria, 'cause they are right awesome so don't mess with me, 'cause i've read the rules and i say on with charrie number two!. so read my application yo!?! kthxbi.[/ul][/blockquote][/size]

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FULL NAME!?! - In truth, his full name Remington Duquette, son of Alwae of Lochtsern but seeing as that is far too much of a mouthful he tends to use the much shorter 'Remington Duquette'.
NICK NAMES!?! - Remy, You there, moron, bastard, ass and quite a slew other derogatory nicknames. Of course, Remy is the most preferred albeit not the most plentiful of the names he is called. there are also the various psuedonyms he takes on, but seeing as they change daily, if not hourly, they bare no mentioning.
AGE!?! - 27.
OCCUPATION!?! - Does con-artist count? If not, I suppose you could call him a 'connosier of all trades'. A master of slieght of hand, he dabbles in whatever he can dip his fingers into.
MEMBER GROUP!?! - completely and utterly human. after meeting him though, many have stated he has to be one of the seven devils themselves. apparently, he's the sort to leave a lasting impression.
RELIGION!?! Renascentialism, or at least so he says. The truth of the matter has yet to be actually found out. Some of his more unfortunate customers say however, that rather than worshiping the great three, he is a follower of the seven devils instead.
MAGIC!?! - None at all. That doesn't stop him from pretending he does, using slight of hand and quite a few bits of marvelous acting to fool people into believing he actually has some magic, whether it be sorcery, alchemy, soothsaying or summoning. he still has yet to work regeneration into his repetiour but have no fear--once he finds out a way to make it look as if he has regrown an arm he will quite happily add that into his stock of talents.
SEXUALITY!?! - Heterosexual for all intents and purposes. He is not however, above pretending he likes members of the same gender if the need arises whether its to fool an existing client or simply get a discount at the market.
GENDER!?! - male. At the very least, that much is obvious.
PLAYED BY!?! - Bartek Borowiec

LIKES!?! -

• money (there is nothing quite like the feeling of a coin in your hand, eh? the weight of it as you hold it between your fingers and better yet the look on your opponent's faces once they realize you're the one with it and not them)
• being in the know (it is better than knowing nothing at all, yes?)
• pulling off a good trick (all things considered, it is his job. Fooling someone when he didn't expect to tends to put a smile on his face, even if it is at someone else's expense)
• touching (alright, so he can be a bit clingy at times. but still, it is nice to know you're alive, yes? And what better way to know that than by touching?)
• people (oh people, no matter what the race, are such interesting things aren't they? Finding out what makes them tick? Even more so.)

DISLIKES!?! -

• drunkards (smell not withstanding, there is nothing more worthless in Remy's eyes as a drunkard.)
• brigands (oh he's a con artist yes, and a thief if the need suits him, but Remy will never be a rapist or a murderer. Brigands and their like, they can all rot in hell.)
• nobles (Remy has never held too much of a liking for the upper class.)
• goody two shoes (really, there is something simply grating about those who are far too happy and only wish for the good of the world. perhaps its the fact that it makes him feel almost guilty when he takes advantage of them. almost, but not quite.)
• being caught (no con artist enjoys such a thing. it goes against the very idea of being a con artist!)

GOALS!?! -

• become one of the richest men of city (perhaps then, he might be able to clean it up. )
• make a name for himself (all men wish for such things yes? his occupation is simply different from most.)

FEARS!?! -

• dying (well, no one wants to die, do they? least of all him. He's got too many things to do, too many plans to try, to die in some gutter like a rat.)
• losing everything he has worked for (too much effort, too many nights spent toiling away, to lose it all now.)
• being executed(fear of death not withstanding, he'd rather not be hanging from a post or have his head roll thank you very much.)

STRENGTHS!?! -

• calculating
• cunning
• charming
• witty

WEAKNESS!?! -

• no respect for authority
• vain
• prideful
• easily distracted

OVERALL!?! - To put it quite simply, Remy is a manipulative bastard. And quite frankly, that's the way he likes it. He's long since come to terms with his faults and strenghts thank you very much, and he'd much rather take advantage of them rather than brood in some corner.

Charming as he is at times, Remy can often come off as rude and off putting, rarely filtering his speech save in dire circumstances. He lies easily, and rarely tells the whole truth even to those he calls friends. Sometimes, he might feel guilty about it but well, the truth of the matter is that he's grown so used to lying he's not really sure he can stop.

Despite this, he has a fierce loyalty to those he calls friends and will often call in favors for their sake if the need arises. He is however, cautious, and it takes quite a bit to actually earn his trust.

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EYES!?! - green, albeit a rather dark one. at times, they can appear hazel if in the right light.
HAIR!?! - red hair, reaching to the bottom of his ribs. If not dried properly it tends to curl when wet and in humid weather, he has been known to pull it back rather than have it poof around his face.
FACE!?! - Pleasing to look at, he decently proportioned features with fairly plush lips and a straight nose. He can pull off looking younger than he is if he has to.
BODY!?! - standing at a fairly tall 6'2, he's leanly muscled with long limbs. Despite being fit, his abs aren't exactly defined but he can hold himself in a fight--if only just long enough so he can get away.
UNUSUAL!?! - he has a brand on his shoulder, the mark faded with age but there none the less. The skin there is darker, more mottled and toughened. Few know of it however, and even fewer get to see it.
OVERALL!?! - It doesn't take a genius to realize that Remy is a good looking man. He's tall, with a face many would love to have for all he takes to disguising it. He dresses rather neatly in leathers, and usually has his hair untied and spilling down his back save when working on a particularly detailed project or in excessive humidity.

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MOTHER!?! - Alwae of Lochstern. She would have been a healer, were she not deceased.
FATHER!?! - Who knows. If the man who sired him is not already rotting in the ground he's likely a brigand, Remy is sure.
SIBLINGS!?! - only child.
IMPORTANT!?! - Unless you count the fact that his mother was once one of the head healers of Lochstern before her untimely demise 2 years ago, no one at all.
FINALLY!?! - With Remy's personality, I'm sure you're expecting a backstory ripe with strife, dirty deals and a childhood on the streets--and in that you'd be wrong.

At least, partially. The dirty deals and strife come later. Much, much later.

First off, no matter what he tells you, Remy was not born on the streets. Rather, he was the only son of prominent healer Alwae and an unnamed male. Seeing as his mother took on a dark look every time his father was mentioned, Remy didn't truly care. later however, he'd find out that his mother, in her younger years, had gotten a bit too enamored with with a dashing young knight who had up and left her the moment he'd found out his lovely lady lass was preggers. All in all, it didn't endear Remy to the idea of the man very much.

That said, Remy lived a fairly decent life with his mother. They did not want for much and despite Remy's sometimes less than savory ways (even as a child, he'd been of the precocious sort) they were happy.

It is fitting that Remy would try to repay his mother's hard work yes? At the age of 16, he tried to set out on his own and make a name for himself. And by that he ran away from home so he would not have to listen to his mother talk him out of it (Remy after all, did not get his silver tongue from his father). He tried to set out on the streets, making a name for himself through petty tricks.

He did so for years, making deals with petty gangs and sending money and goods anonymously to his mother. (His mother however, knew quiet well who was sending her the packages, so perhaps it was not so anonymous after all.). For a while, it seemed as if the world was working towards Remy's favor. By the time he was 22, he was running a small gang (little more than he and two friends) however his fortune changed for the worse not soon after he turned 24.

That was after all, when the plague hit and his mother was among one of the first hit. Needless to say, bastard or not, Remy came home to dirty little Lochstern the moment he received the news.

He stayed with his mother, helping her battle it out even as members of his small time gang fell like flies to the deadly disease. And like his friends, his mother too soon gave in.

And from there well...let's just say the following year or two wasn't exactly a happy one. For simplicity's sake (and the sake of his own dignity) we'll just say that his life went into a downwards spiral after his mother's death where his lack of respect for authority became even more apparent (somehow, Remy had decided that it was the noble's fault for the plague that had swept through the land). It took a few close calls (and an even closer one which resulted in the brand on his back) before some sense was finally knocked into him.

Oh he still hates the upper class--there's no getting around that--but at the very least he has realized that holding protests and screaming randomly at the castle walls won't do anything. A much more...subtle...preferred is preferred. There are rumors of him trying to incite some smaller rebellions in the city, but as of now, those are rumors.

However, if someone wished to act against the Upper Class well...

Remy might offer a hand...or two.

so all lyrics used are credited too PARAMORE, thee best female fronted band in the world. everything else is credited to rawr_dinosaur at caution. don't steal this template or take the credit off, if you do i shall be forced to come and pull your eyes out with a spork!?! 'cause you know you love sporks!?! and they are the best extracting eyeballs.

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STATUS. in use
RACE. human
JOB. con artist
ROMANTIC STATUS. single
INTERESTED IN. no one. cough Generva aka Lady Pherene of Ostlea cough.
LIVES. In the poor district of Noredge.
FAVORITE LOCATION. Lochstern. Dirty it may be, but if Remy gets his way that grime might be moved shortly. Besides, it's normal to have a soft spot for one's home town, no?

[RAEGGOS SHAELENDREN]

raeggos shaelendren

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[/b], yep so please call me that from now on. i've got 11ish birds flying round my head and they don't half get annoying but when you've been around for 22 years you get used to it. have you heard about FAYNE UNDARIA && REMY DUQUETTE, 'cause they are right awesome so don't mess with me, 'cause i've read the rules and i say oh lawd, Reaggos is gonna be cray cray. so read my application yo!?! kthxbi.[/ul][/blockquote][/size]

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FULL NAME!?! - Raeggos Shaelendren
NICK NAMES!?! - Oh there are quite a few names that some call him. Mad Elf, traitorous bastard and murderer to name a few. Oh, but never to his face. Oh no no no--the ones who do that never quite live to say it again. It is a pity yes? Best watch your mouth then. You do want to keep your head, don't you?
AGE!?! - 866. It's quite young for an elf really. Not even into his first millennium. {and yet, why is it that Raeggos is surprised he's lived this long?}
OCCUPATION!?! - Traitor--it is such a nasty, nasty word. Raeggos isn't quite sure he likes the sound of it {sometimes, it even hurts, tearing at something he thought dead quite long ago} but it fits, yes? ah, but who did he betray? The elves? They did nothing but watch him suffer. The cosa nostra? Mere mortals--they merely supplied him with a means to an end. Why would he--he, an elf, a great elf, powerful beyond measure--owe them anything. If so, who did he betray? His friends? He had none. His family? Dead. Himself? Who knows. In the end, Raeggos isn't quite sure he knows any more. {and now, he finds he doesn't quite care.}
MEMBER GROUP!?! - Elf.
RELIGION!?! - None. Unless of course, you count the fact that he sees himself on par with a god. After all, why would he worship those silly gods and spirits and their ilk?! They have done him no service--no, no not at all. They left him to rot--in torment, in pain, in anger, in madness and it was only through his own power, through is own and theirs that he was able to finally realize who he was. They did him no service, and he will return the favor in kind.
MAGIC!?! - Summoner. And my, my what pretty creaures they are. Well, once he realized their worth of course. They whisper such sweet nothings into his ears {burnt towns, ransacked villages, corpses strewn across the streets and blood running in rivers}. At one time, he might have hated them but now...now that he listens...oh, he doens't know why he didn't to begin with. {listening makes it hurt less, makes the pain stop and then--then he can finally breathe}
SEXUALITY!?! - pansexual. Once upon a time, he cared nothing for gender. Love was love after all, but now...now...with the madness raging at his mind and the pain clawing at his soul, he finds the act of sex strange in and of itself. {besides, who would want a lover like him? more like to rip of their head in a fit of quiet rage than to caress their cheek? no sane creature, that much is sure. sometimes, though, when raeggos reaches up to brush his cheeks he can feel that they are wet. perhaps loneliness? madness? who knows.}
GENDER!?! - Male
PLAYED BY!?! - Ederson Marquezini

LIKES!?! -

• the quiet {it's so nice once everything becomes silent. there's no noise, no pain and though he can't quite sleep he can finally, finally, finally breathe}
• cold wind {when the pain got too much, the spirits too loud, a cold wind--cold enough to turn his cheeks red and bite at his nose and fingers--was almost enough to quiet them. it was a pity it wasn't but raeggos can appreciate the almost relief all the same}
• the new moon {dark, dark, dark--like him. there's no light to taunt him, no light to steal it away, no light to make them stronger for the spirits are always at their best when the moon is full}
• old books {dry dusty tomes, yellowed pages beneath his fingertips and a memory of a time long past. some of them hold dark things, forbidden things and raeggos likes them best for they quiet the spirits the most}
• dark nights {when the moon is gone or clouded and he were he a mortal he'd not even be able to see his hand in front of his face. those nights are the best, the calmest and raeggos loves them}

DISLIKES!?! -

• early mornings {the way the light shines over the horizon and everything seems brighter and cheerier, almost as if its taunting him. the way things wake up and raeggos hates them bitterly. they can sleep, and he will never have the pleasure for he's always, always awake}
• loud things {terrible noises, doors slamming, glasses breaking, people screaming--he just wants to shut them up, just make them quietquietquiet}
• clingy people {when they touch it hurts and then he needs to stop them. besides they all want one thing--his cure, his quiet and he won't let them have it--not ever}
• thieves {thieves die first, tricky little liars with quick fingers that he's always sure to break. they won't have. he won't let them, won't let them take it, he'll kill them first}
• the lake {misty shores and glittering water. so calm and peaceful it makes him want to scream and rage and cry and he hates it all the more. it makes the voices ponder though. something hidden. something secret.}

GOALS!?! -

• to find a way to make the quiet last {then it won't hurt, not any more}
• keep his cure safe {it's not his fault, not his fault that they want it and that he must protect it and that killing them makes it hurt less, makes the voices purr even as the cure quiets them (seven though, seven spirits cry though and ask why)}

FEARS!?! -

• his cure will be taken away {and then he'll be left alone with nothing but the spirits again}
• being killed {the spirits scream at that, seven louder than the rest though they are more sad than frightened}
• being alone {it is a pity indeed, that he is alone already}

STRENGTHS!?! -

• intelligent
• powerful
• cold
• silver tongue

WEAKNESS!?! -

• disjointed
• easily angered
• mad
• paranoid

OVERALL!?! -

Paranoid, easily angered, prone to jumping to conclusions and about as bipolar as a rabbit on steroids while somehow managing to stay as blank faced as a clean board, needless to say Raeggos isn't the sanest elf in the world. Oh he has his moments when he seems almost clear, but at the drop of a hat he can become a seething pile of paranoia and stress. In his defense, the spirits constantly whispering away at his mind don't exactly help. Ah, but the teas and herbs he takes for that quiet him quite nicely.

It really is a pity that the herbs make him a bit more on edge than usual though.

Ah, but it's not his fault the people want to take his cure away from him is it? Men, women, children---they all want it and its up to him to stop him from taking it. Some might call it cold blooded but in truth, it's perfectly rational when one thinks about it. Sometimes, Raeggos finds that he doesn't need the tea at all if he kills enough of them. then the spirits quiet down quite nicely save seven, who always ask him why and tell him to stop but Raeggos has long since stopped listening to them.

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EYES!?! - Pale gray and framed by thick lashes, they once held a look of torment. now, they hold nothing. {sometimes though, in his quieter moments when everything is mercifully silent, even the voices in his mind, and the haze of his herbs and teas is all but gone, one can almost see a look of regret, of pain and confusion--but those moments are rare indeed.}
HAIR!?! - Smooth and straight though with a slight wave, its dirty blonde, reaching down until the small of his back.
FACE!?! - He has an angular face, with high cheekbones. It could almost be considered feminine were it not for the masculine set of his jaw.
BODY!?! - At one time, Raeggos could have been consiered the pinncale of perfection. Fit in the way all elves are, he was lean, with corded muscles and a willowy frame. Now, with years alone to nothing but the torment of his own mind, he's more thin than muscular and his ribs are in plain view.
UNUSUAL!?! - Numerous scars, the most prominent being a long scar running down the length of his back. It stretches from his left shoulder and then wraps around until it hits his right hip bone. Various other's dot his body, white with age. His face however, is unmarked.
OVERALL!?! - Pleasing to look at, Raeggos doesn't look like how a madman should. He does not have wild hair nor an unkepmpt appearance. Sure there are often bags under his eyes and he's a bit thin--even for an elf--and quite scarred beneath the high necked shirts, all knitted of skin-tight material and trousers made of soft leather--but he does not look mad. He is of course, but that is quite besides the point.

Prone to wearing long sleeved shirts and tight pants that one would think would inhibit his movement but in fact don't, Raeggos tends to somehow manage being completely covered while leaving only a small amount to the imagination. He dislikes any sort of armor and tends to avoid all metals like the plague and avoids chain mail with the same sort of distaste. {the metal makes the spirits shriek, rage and scream. he's learned long ago to avoid it.}

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MOTHER!?! - Idril Shaelendren. dead. {once upon a time, she'd been a sorceress, a healder, but she hadn't been able to cure him. no no no no--and she paid. sorry, he was so sorry, but it wasn't him}
FATHER!?! - Olwë Shaelendren. dead. {with mother, and it hurt--it hurt---why?}
SIBLINGS!?! - four brothers and a sister. {too bad they're dead--dead dead dead, but it wasn't him---no---the spirits---the voices---not him--not raeggos; never raeggos}
IMPORTANT!?! - N/A
FINALLY!?! -

once upon a time, there was a little elf.

he had strong magic, the little elf, and it hurt him. his siblings—four older brothers and a younger sister-worried for him dearly but they could not help. not when spirits whispered dark things to his mind that only he could hear and not when he felt his magic rip away inside him, tearing at his lungs and heart until he thought might burst.

‘why raeggos, why do you cry?’ they asked him, each time he screamed at night. his mother searched for a cure, a way to make his magic hurt less while his father went through book after book, hoping for an answer.

but the little elf couldn’t answer—it hurt to speak, hurt to sleep and so they worried.

one day, his mother came to him. ‘raeggos,’ she whispered as his father stood a silent vigil behind her, ‘we found an answer. there is a ritual. a ritual we can try—your father found it in a book, one in the library that not even the king knows about. it is dangerous, but we would like to try.’ here she paused, cold hands clasping at his before she looked up at him with tear filled eyes. ‘please raeggos.’ she said. ‘please let us try.’

and so, the little elf let them try.

no one else knew, not even his siblings—for it was a dark book that his mother had found. one forbidden to even read, let alone open, but they were too desperate to care and the little elf just wanted it to stop—wanted the pain and the voices to end and so he stayed quiet.

and surprisingly, so did the spirits. they whispered not a word and for a moment, the little elf allowed himself to hope. that was when the world tilted and the spirits—so quiet before—began to laugh.

when the little elf woke, his parents were dead and his back hurt {hurthurthurt}. his mother’s hand was extended towards him, his father draped protectively over her and their blank eyes staring at him. {that night, the little elf gained two more voices to add to many, two which screamed and cried at him louder than the rest (notHISFAULTnotHISFAULT) }.

the little elf did not sleep much after that. he grew more quiet, more withdrawn, and his brothers and sisters worried all the more. their parents were gone, and so they only had each other and to see their brother in pain hurt them all the more.

and so, they came up with a plan. a plan to make the little elf smile—if only for a minute.

it was his little sister who came up with it. a trip to the lake—it would be fun, and there, there a surprise would be waiting.

{it really was a pity that the spirits did not like surprises and when the little elf woke, the world was dead, blackened and fried and he gained five more voices to the collection.}

time passed slowly after that and each night the little elf slept less and less.

soon, he was no longer so little. the spirits {with the extra seven who cried harder than the rest} grew louder and louder with each passing year and the elf grew more and more erratic. angry, some said, violent cried others. the elf paid them no heed, for how angry would they be, how violent, if they could not sleep, could not think, could not breathe? the spirits save seven agreed with him and whispered sweet things {dark things} into his ears but still the elf tried not to listen.

on the day of his four hundredth birthday the elf went to the king, begging for a way but the king {fair and peaceful and how the spirits hated him (except for the seven, they begged and pleaded though neither the elf nor king could not hear them)} could offer him no help for his magic was not the kind that could heal and was instead, the kind that could only see.

the spirits save seven laughed then, jeered and screamed and called to him and the elf’s temper grew shorter and shorter until he could take no more.

he went to the men then, the cosa nostra they called themselves, and that is where he found it.

found the cure—the way to make the spirits quiet.

it was a tiny plant, small enough to fit inside his palm but oh the things it did. the world grew quiet, the spirits silenced. he could think, he could breathe. the elf grew panicked then, terrified for if someone else found out, they would surely try to take it from him. the spirits save seven agreed and so, when the founders of his cure were sleeping, the elf slit their throats and cradled his cure to his chest.

the cosa nostra raged of course, as did the elves but the elf did not care.

he had his cure--his quiet.

and those who tried to take it away would pay. even if he had to make the world burn.

so all lyrics used are credited too PARAMORE, thee best female fronted band in the world. everything else is credited to rawr_dinosaur at caution. don't steal this template or take the credit off, if you do i shall be forced to come and pull your eyes out with a spork!?! 'cause you know you love sporks!?! and they are the best extracting eyeballs.

[/div]

STATUS. in use
RACE. elf
JOB. none.tea addict
ROMANTIC STATUS. single
INTERESTED IN. no one yet~ ;D
LIVES. The Wasteland.
FAVORITE LOCATION. When he was younger he had always enjoyed the quiet elven forests around the Burnt Woods. Now though, his keep in the Wasteland is the only place he is can find solace. Not to mention the only place where he's welcome.

[

[YGRITTE BLACKBURN]

ygritte blackburn

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images.tvrage.com/people/34/100708.jpg [/img]

[/b], yep so please call me that from now on. i've got 11 birds flying round my head and they don't half get annoying but when you've been around for 22 years you get used to it. have you heard about Fayne Undaria, Remy Duquette and Raeggos Shaelendren, 'cause they are right awesome so don't mess with me, 'cause i've read the rules and i say i swear this is my last character i think. so read my application yo!?! kthxbi.[/ul][/blockquote][/size]

[/center]

FULL NAME!?! - Ygritte Blackburn. {it is rumored that this is not her true name, that once she had one softer, less cold but for now she is Ygritte.}
NICK NAMES!?! - Once, before she was Ygritte, she was called Gritta, and mama and mother. Sister and daughter. But that was long ago. Now, she is simply Ygritte with no other name.
AGE!?! - 34
OCCUPATION!?! - Cosa Nostra Enforcer {the men offered her a chance. work for them, do what they asked and then she would be free. it is not good work, but she is no longer rotting beneath the earth where she is nothing but a useless lump who can do little but sit and wait and rage}
MEMBER GROUP!?! - Shape Shifter {the eagle --sister of her soul-- pulses beneath her skin, sometimes close enough sometimes that she can feel the brush of its feathers against her cheek. once they were closer, and not a moment would go by that her eyes didn't shine of wild}
RELIGION!?! - None. {Worshiping never won her anything, not even when she begged the gods and spirits and aye, even the devils for help}
MAGIC!?! - None. {everything would have been easier though, easier if she'd had a soothsayer's foresight but she is not the type to want when she could be doing.}
SEXUALITY!?! - Heterosexual. {She had loved a man once--loved him with all of her heart. he had been kind and cold and everything she could have ever wanted. He is dead now--buried with the ashes.}
GENDER!?! - Female.
PLAYED BY!?! - Julia Jones

LIKES!?! -

• children {the small ones in particular. they remind her of her own, bless their souls}
• being useful {doing things takes the ache off of her mind and helps her think, gives her something to busy herself with so the doubt doesn't cloud her mind.}
• weapons {they have saved her life more often than not, and cleaning her sword keeps her mind busy when other things wish to overtake it}
• music {once, she loved to dance. now, Ygritte is content to sit and listen.}
• early mornings {she likes to wake early, if only to watch the sun and see the glories bloom in the dawn's light. it reminds her of brighter times, of brighter things when she had her children by her side.}

DISLIKES!?! -

• weakness {she'll not tolerate it--not in herself and not in others.}
• waiting {waiting gives her mind time to think--time to doubt and Ygritte will not have that. Doubt is pain, doubt is weakness and Ygritte can never be weak}
• slavers {she's kill them all if she had the chance--each and every one of them.}
• gold and jewels {oh they're pretty enough to look at but Ygritte will avoid all manner of treasure if she can. Treasure after all, is the reason her family is dead and her children gone.}
• prison {she's spent too much time rotting in there already. now that she's out she does not plan on going back again.}

GOALS!?! -

• find her children {that is her more pressing goal. everything else comes second.}
• avenge her family's murder {it's been twelve years, aye, but Ygritte has not forgotten in the least. she can still remember their faces, the look in their eyes and she cannot wait to feel the slice of her blade through their guts. such scum do not deserve quick deaths.}

FEARS!?! -

• her children are dead {or worse yet, they'll not remember her--its been twelve years after all and they were but wee things.}
  
• dying herself {it is not the act in and of itself that she fears, but the fact that if she is not alive, who will search for her children?}
• she'll lose herself {but she's already gone so far down--how much further does she have to go?}

STRENGTHS!?! -

• strong sense of morals
• resolute
• loyal
• straight forward

WEAKNESS!?! -

• judgmental
• single minded
• reckless
• cold

OVERALL!?! - A woman with a strong sense of morals, it's strange to think that she's a criminal. But years and years of working, of toiling towards one goal and one goal only, have made her more realistic than not. She'll steal if she had to yes, and murder as well but someone who she does not think deserves it. Unfortunately, her rather straight forward personality makes her easy to manipulate and coupled with her tendency to judge someone at first glance she has taken a few lives she hasn't meant to.

One thing however is certain--she will not raise a hand towards a child and she hates slavers with a passion and oft times will destroy their caravans with reckless abandon. She's intelligent enough to not touch them should they be in a town but once they are out into the wilderness she's of the sort to make sure each and every one of the rotten bastards are dead whilst freeing the poor souls they have in their grasp.

The years have hardened her, leaving her ruthless and rather cold towards those she deems unacceptable and her stubborn nature can make it hard to change her mind.

[/blockquote]

EYES!?! - a deep dark brown spotted with eagle gold.
HAIR!?! - thick and black, it is shorn short and just barely brushes the top of her shoulders.
FACE!?! - She has full lips, with a straight nose and an exotic tilt to her eyes. It's a pretty enough composition, were she not always frowning.
BODY!?! - She's tall for a woman, with lean muscle and not a lick of fat. She has a full figure, with the rounded hips of a woman who's given birth. Once, she'd been soft, but now she's nothing but sharp bones and corded muscle.
UNUSUAL!?! - Once, before everything, Ygritte's body had been untainted by ink or blade. It is not the case now. Many a scar is painted on her, and she's got two tattoos inked on the flesh of her right hand--one in the space between her index and thumb and the other between her middle and index fingers. Of her many scars, two are the most prominent--one a giant white ribbon that runs across her chest from her collar bone to navel and the other a scar that runs clean across her side--almost as if she'd been cleaved open.
OVERALL!?! - just by looking at her, one can tell she's a fit woman. her stance is always ready and there is a nearly tangible line of tension present in her spine. She stands straight, stiff and rarely--if ever slouches. On cold nights, she tends to move a bit more gingerly as the scars dotting her skin ache more than they should.

She tends to wear light armor or chain mail, preferring the increased mobility in contrast to the slow, if durable, heavy armor. She almost always has a sword at her belt and an ax on her back--tools of the trade if you will. Fairly tall, she is not a small woman by any means of imagination and can appear rather frightening

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MOTHER!?! - Sveina. housewife. deceased. Had she lived to this day, she would have been 62.
FATHER!?! - Herarr. miner. deceased. He would have been 64 had he lived.
SIBLINGS!?! - two brothers-- Anvarr and Einkell. They had been twins. Inseparable, even in death.
IMPORTANT!?! - she had three children once. Two bright little girls and a boy too serious for his own good. they had called her mother, had clutched at her feet and she had been happy. now they are gone. but not dead--not dead. she can feel it. {but sometimes, when the quiet gets too great and there is no sound of tiny feet and high pitched giggles ringing in her ear, her heart begins to doubt. it has been twelve years now and they had been so young when they'd been taken --two, four and five--surely there'd have been a sign? A whisper?}
FINALLY!?! -
Once, Ygritte had been Gritta.

She had been young when she'd married--barely a day over sixteen but oh she had been in love. he had been cold but kind and she had loved him so dearly. he had held her hand as they walked beneath the boughs, proposed to her beneath a tree and gifted her with smiles that he showed no one else.

they had loved, had married and within a year of their joining she had a son, a beautiful strong son with hair like the sun and eyes that shone like gold. they named him Ari, for Gritta could feel the bird in him as well, the soft downy feathers and the shining eyes. they had been happy, the three and when a girl--sweet, soft Lifa and though she did not scream of eagle but of dove, Gritta loved her all the same. things grew dark then, but they had stayed happy, safe in the mountains.

Tyra, feisty Tyra, came into the world in a fight. her birth had been difficult, hard and leaving Gritta pained but no less victorious as she looked at the ruddy cheeks of her newest daughter who the midwife also told her would be her last. the pain was hard to swallow but Gritta loved her child all the more.

her children were sweet, precious--her treasures, their treasures and Gritta and her beloved guarded them fiercely.

it was on the second anniversary of little Tyra's birth that her husband found the jewel--glistening and shining like a star beneath the mountain.

'Look Gritta' he had whispered, holding up so she could stare in awe, 'It is beautiful isn't it?' and then he had turned to her, placing the gem against the hollow of her neck before he smiled and whispered in her ear, 'it will be even more beautiful on the most beautiful woman of all.'

she had laughed then, cheeks red as she slapped him on the shoulder because for all he was cold at times, he loved her truly and thought her the greatest jewel of the world.

her husband went to town that night, taking the jewel with him.

when he returned, he no longer had it. instead, he was rushed, his eyes panicked as he gathered their small family up. "Gritta--Gritta you must run--they are coming--the jewel--" and then he said nothing else as he fell, an arrow in his back.

Gritta remembers screaming then, loud enough to call her mother and father and brothers from where they lived in the house over and then she screamed a new as she watched them fall. miners were strong, but they could not hold their own against a horde--and a horde it was.

strange men, all in strange clothes with greedy eyes that spoke of dark things and smiles that spoke of things even darker. Gritta ran then, or tried to, bundling her children--her precious treasures--up in her arms only to have them ripped from her with a scream.

Gritta can remember their tiny hands grasping at her even as Ari, brave little Ari fights them tooth and nail while Tyra screams and screams, loud in their ears and even sweet Lifa claws at their faces.

It does not help in the end, not when the men bash their heads against the stone to quiet them and Gritta screams and snarls curses at them even as men pin her to the floor.

As they take her children away, they hurt her. They rip at her skirts and then take their fill of her while asking her questions she cannot answer. where are the jewels, the ones like her husband had had and when Gritta cannot answer, they beat her, slamming her head against the stone and kicking at her sides until everything hurts and it is only when Gritta can barely breathe, when her breath is little more than a stuttering whimper and she can no longer curse or even move towards her children, that they leave, spitting on her prone body and ransacking her house.

'no jewels here,' one of them calls out.

'no gold either.' calls another.

there is silence, a contemplative one before she can make out the sound of boots against the wood floor of the hut and from the corner of her fading vision she can make out a man bending down to look at the prone--still, so still--bodies of her treasures. 'the children.' the man finally states, his voice dark with cruel humor, 'they are pretty enough. they'll fetch a nice prize--the woman is likely to die anyways'

as they leave, Gritta cannot keep her eyes open.

Gritta dies that night--a long, whimpering death as she claws her way to her prone forms of her family and husband. Gritta dies yes, but Ygritte--born of cold and pain and hatred--rises in her place.

Gritta had been a soft housewife, smiling at her husband but Ygritte was not that. she was hardened, ruthless and when she pulled herself up on broken hands and bleeding fists, she screamed her rage to the air and made a promise--a vow that would not be broken.

The years that followed were cold, harsh. Two stints in a jail left her with tattoos--thieves marks on her hands--and a scar down her front.

Ygritte would not be cowed though--she searched and found and while she was not a good thief, she was a good killer. it was easy--too easy--to kill when she pictured that night, pictured her children's frightened faces and then their slack bodies--but people hired her for it and even when she went to prison for the third time, this time not on a simple charge of thieving but for the murder of an entire caravan (all slavers, scum not worth living and besides, she did not touch the slaves, not a one--set them all free before the guards came) her ability to kill worked in her favor.

it was the reason after all, the men came to her.

they called themselves the cosa nostra--and there, in the dingy cell that she called her own, they made her a deal.

work for us, they said. work for us and we will give you everything you need.

and in the end, that was all they needed to say.

so all lyrics used are credited too PARAMORE, thee best female fronted band in the world. everything else is credited to rawr_dinosaur at caution. don't steal this template or take the credit off, if you do i shall be forced to come and pull your eyes out with a spork!?! 'cause you know you love sporks!?! and they are the best extracting eyeballs.

[/div]

STATUS. in use
RACE. Shape Shifter.
JOB. Cosa Nostra Enforcer.
ROMANTIC STATUS. widowed.
INTERESTED IN. no one yet~ ;D
LIVES. Noredge.
FAVORITE LOCATION. Though she once loved the Blackburn Mines, she holds no love for that place now, and does not have a soft spot for anywhere now.