Name: Auruningica “Ica” Bagarok
Age: 20
Gender: Female (with fluidity)
Sexuality: Doesn’t have labels, would pretty much date anyone
Shipping?: hell yeah
Ethnicity: Iberian
Personality: extremely boisterous and egotistical, loves adventure and constantly (tries to) wins everyone’s admiration. They take pride in their regal heritage and fanciful assets, but deep down they feel incredibly unaccomplished and have a crippled self worth.
Reason for joining the expedition: After her father heard of the expedition, he decided to send her, wanting desperately for her to leave his kingdom and do something with her life. Under Roman influence, he also wants to overpower and take control of their empire, seeing the treasures that could be retrieved in the expedition as an a opportunity to do so. Ica agrees to go, wanting a taste of adventure and to prove themselves to their father.
Appearance: tanned honey-olive skin with a dash of freckles. Her hair is deep black and wavy, with light brown eyes and perfectly shaped lips. She has high cheekbones and a slightly pudgy figure, developing some prominent curves due to her lazy lifestyle. (Pinterest has generously provided me with a sufficient representation of her lmao)
Style: usually wears regal masculine clothing; long flowy garments with decorated cloaks, and loose sandals with ties up to her shins
Profession: Iberian Regulus, with ruling rights from Greece, called Fides.
(She's AWESOME! I'll post the starter soon)
(Okay! I look forward to it!)
Tilila stood outside the Pharaoh's palace, taking in all the sights. The tall columns inscribed with the ancient stories of the gods and their servants, of kings and their men, of temples and sights which man could never imagine. She gazed at the meter long ivies and grapevines that twisted and twirled up the sides of the palace, nearly reaching the top. She marveled at the gold-filled crevasses of the ground and the walls. All of it was a bit overwhelming for her, especially because she grew up in a small tight-knit tribe rather than a large, bustling kingdom like this. She began to sweat a bit, but thought of the fact that she had volunteered for this, so this was a good thing. She composed herself and sighed, walking into the throne room. She spotted five others adjacent to her, along with a few servants at the entrances and beside the walls. Then she tilted her head up. A dozen steps led to a throne surrounded by spotless linen curtains and golden pottery. On it sat a man in royal regalia. A golden head cloth draped on his head and shoulders, a skirt draped over his legs and torso, and he held a golden crook and flail crossed over his bare chest. Presumably, he was the Pharaoh. Next to him stood a small girl, wearing a long tunic, and a very beautiful necklace around her neck. The room was silent for a minute when the Pharaoh rose to speak. "As you know, I sent for a group of travelers willing to make the dangerous trek to the mystical and not yet seen Isle of the Hesperides" He took a step forward "Thousands answered the call, but you six" at this Tilila looked around, glancing at the faces, a diverse array of interesting people. None of them were from Egypt, she could tell. "You six were the most rewarding prospects" he smiled warmly "A warrior and a rogue for protection, a sorceress to deal with the magicks you might face on the voyage, a healer for medical procedures that will likely be needed, and an artist for recording locations and beings found on the way. A princess from a far away land, as diplomat" he pointed at his sister "And of course, a seventh member, the princess will be looking over this whole mission as a scribe" His smile sort of faltered when referring to his sister, but he went on "I have prepared a ship filled to the brim with everything you will need. Food, weapons, medicinal herbs, scrolls, paints" he tilted his head "Wine." Tilila smiled at the mention of alcohol. "And all other essentials for your journey" he shook his hand, gesturing them off "You will be on your way tomorrow morning, for now, you will all be given rooms in the palace. Sleep well" At the wave of his hands, five guards were at their sides, escorting them to hall, where their rooms would be located.
Mithonbaal walked up the steps with Tillia, observing her movements. She moves like royalty, and yet I can tell she is no such thing… He's seen more impressive places than the Egyptian pharoah's palace, and doesn't pay very much attention to the small details, instead admiring all the gold and precious gems on and in everything. Oh, what I wouldn't give to walk away with at least some of this…
He was straight faced and silent through it all, listening intently and watching the others, not sure he should trust the princess in particular. He's had… experiences… dealing with her type. Best not think about that.
He allows the guard to escort him away to his room, and when he reaches it he collapses onto the bed, sighing in relief.
(Lol I’m gonna just copy and paste from the old one)
Efraim tried to pay attention to the Pharaoh as best they could, but their eyes wandered to look at the walls occasionally. Here in the throne room were some of their father’s paintings, most noticeably the stretch of blue that represented the Nile River underneath a flock of herons in flight. Underneath that, near the floor and in the various corners of the room, Efraim could spot small, golden fish clustering in groups of two or three. Father’s fish had always been very good; they liked to think that repetitive strokes that made up the scales were relaxing to him.
Their eyes then drifted over to the others, taking in their unfamiliar faces and clothes. They couldn’t form an immediate judgement of any of them, but could only hope that they wouldn’t be judgmental in return.
Upon hearing the word “paints,” Efraim snapped back to attention. Excitement bubbled in their stomach as they realized how close they were to breaking free of the bubble that they had been living in for so long. Sure, it wasn’t as if the journey wouldn’t be fraught with danger, but they trusted that God would protect them.
When the guard came to escort them to their room, Efraim half expected to be led where they normally slept. However, they came to an unfamiliar room, and they realized this was probably so they wouldn’t have to catch up with everyone else in the morning. They stared at the guard for a moment, unsure, before entering. After taking off their sandals and kneeling beside the bed, they began to pray. They asked God for protection and safety, and that He would give them courage, as they always did.
Ica strides into the palace, barely paying attention to the intricate decor and extravagant furnishings. It was nothing she wasn’t used to. She swayed her hips as she strode down the hall, smiling once she saw a few of the guards follow her gaze. After listening to the pharaoh, she cocked her head, wondering which person she was being described as. At the mention of food and wine, she smirked, knowing at least there was some benefit to this. Once the guards started to guide them, she turns back around, swishing her long black hair and fluttering her clothing, holding her head high as she elegantly makes her way down the hall, lounging luxuriously into her bed as she slips off her shoes.
(Oh shoot, I forgot to mention Ica. I fixed it now though. He describes her as a "diplomat")
Tilila could tell by the way everybody else walked off, it was going to be relatively silent if somebody did not make the effort to socialize. I'll introduce myself, I suppose she thought as she walked through the hall and stood in front of her door. She didn't open it though. She definitely was not used to this type of luxury, and being there didn't exactly make her all that comfortable, so she decided not to. She headed to the door she had seen, what she believed to be the artist, enter and rapped lightly on the door.
(Also, as preface, we all speak both our native languages and Egyptian [If you wanna add more, you can])
Efraim heard the knock at the door, but didn’t answer it until they had finished praying. They had to pause for a second to size the woman up, remembering that she was the warrior. Raising a hand indicating for her to wait, Efraim went back inside the room and grabbed a scroll and writing utensil, then came back and quickly wrote a greeting in Egyptian hieroglyphs.
Tilila waited, and once he'd opened the door, she saw they'd written her a message. A greeting. "Hello" she began "I am Tilila." she said in Egyptian, though it was a bit broken. "I'm the warrior for this expedition. It is nice to meet you… I assume you're the artist?" she did not want to ask more than that, else she fear being invasive.
Mithonbaal, having heard Tilila knock on a door, cracked his own, quietly, to see what was happening. He saw her pause at what he assumed the artist's response was, then speak in broken Egyptian. He snorts. Damn, she speaks Egyptian. She doesn't know that I do, so at least there's that. He quickly closes the door and goes back to his bed once more.
Wait… how come she went to the artist first? he wonders, actually curious now.
They nodded, offering a small smile. It was always difficult to speak to strangers. Efraim wrote another message on the scroll, that if translated to English read: It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Tilila. And I assume you are the warrior?
(Sorry for taking so long, fell asleep)
(I mostly just copy/pasted this from the old rp)
Ehlaea stood near Tilila for a moment, admiring the ivies and grapevines. She had entered the city shortly beforehand, and had found comfort only in the plants. She didn’t like cities, or crowds, and she was stuck in both. But, she hoped it would be worth it. The Garden of Hesperides awaited her.
She followed Tilila inside and listened to the Pharaoh closely. She nodded at his mention of a sorceress, then glanced around at the mention of the others, curious who was who. When the guards came up to escort them to their rooms, she followed silently. She then gave the guard a nod of thanks and respect before disappearing into her room.
As Ehlaea settled herself, she heard a knock down the hall. She paused a moment to listen, then turned away, lighting some incense to soothe her mind. After some meditation to calm her nerves, she went to bed.
Tilila nodded at the question "Yes, that I am. I wanted to speak to you first because… well, I feel I feel we would probably have the most in common than the rest of the crew. I say this because I'm also a weaver for my tribe, so I consider myself a sort of artist" she looked away for a second, hoping she didn't say anything incorrectly. In her glance, she noticed one of the other crews doors was open, and somebody was looking through it. She squinted at the door and called out "Hello?"
Mithonbaal realized that Tilila must have seen him and sighs. He gets up and goes back to the door, opening it and stepping out.
He thinks a moment about acting like he couldn't understand her, but decided it was a little late for that.
"Hello, Tilila. My name is Mithonbaal." he says in perfect Egyptian, not even bothering to hide his Phoenician accent.
"I have heard that the one you were just talking to is the artist. Efraim, was it? And you are the fighter, yes?" he asks, again not even bothering to act.
A weaver? Efraim wrote. I bet you are very talented.
They looked up to the door that slightly opened. Tilting their head at the sound of the man’s strange accent, they nodded when he mentioned them. They did nothing else, trying to get a good look at the man and unsure of what else to say anyway. Mithonbaal seemed most befitting of a rogue, so that must be who he was.
Mithonbaal had seen Efraim standing there, unsure of what they should say.
"Hello, artist. I would say it was pleasant to talk with you, but one encounter is not definitive of the future encounters we may have. Good day." he says, turning away and padding away back to his room. Not too unpleasant. It could help to befriend them in the future.
Ica hears noises outside her room, and goes to investigate, draping a shawl across her shoulders. Noticing the others, she strikes toward them.
“Ola, seekers of treasure!” She says rambunctiously, speeding her arms out wide and giving a hearty laugh.
“I’ve noticed we each have a particular trait to aid in this expedition. What might all of you be? And more importantly, what can you do?” She adds, hands on hips.
