forum I'm alive and not sure for how long (MATURE + CLOSED)

Started September 09, 2023 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

I'm back and alive again after I don't know for how long. Lets maybe get something started here while I get my writing motivation back!

Well hello there. Whatcha thinkin' you wanna do?

We could do assassin/target, that would be interesting!!! Which role are you going to take My character would fit more into assassin but could honestly do either tbh

Was figuring you'd be assassin, since you mentioned you had a character that fit that role :)
Idea: Assassin is sent to kill a young royal, only to find out the target wants to die, or wants to appear dead, at least, in order to escape their situation.
Something like that? Better ideas, concerns, questions, total resets?

Yes of course that's all good! :) I'll send mine in a minute

Name: Thatcher Wain.
Age: 813 years old, though in human years would be considered about 21-23.
Gender: Male.
Sexuality: Pansexual
Race: Caucasian
Species: Reaper (planning on revealing more about this throughout the RP, but some basics are that he has a tattoo of a scythe that forms into a material one in a ribbon/shadow like manner. He cannot kill/heal anyone he likes, only those who are provided to him by the high Reaper council whos names appear on a small piece of paper he carries with him. He is not immortal, and can be injured by any normal means. Death would require drowning or by the same material that his weapon is made of. They are also able to morph into a group of birds to allow them to travel fast to get to targets, but that makes them much more vulnerable and susceptible to any forms of harm and death).
Appearance: (based off of https://pin.it/2hJd0Qt ) Has a scythe tattoo on his upper and inner right forearm, various scars across his skin from past injuries, and most notably, a large group of burn scars on almost his entire back and parts of his sides/ribcage. He stands at around 6'4 with a toned and slender build. Clothing wise, he is usually dressed professionally (as all Reapers are required to do) with a black button down top, black slacks, black dress shoes, and a black trench coat. On a more casual note, he would usually wear any color of sweatshirts and joggers with a pair of sneakers. With both of those outfits, he usually wears various silver rings, silver necklaces/chains, and different earrings. Bird wise, he is able to morph into a murder of crows.
Personality: More on the ambiverted sided of the spectrum. He is easy to talk to when first meeting, and while it takes a bit for him to open up and get deep, after doing so, he can freely be chatty and honest. He tends to be polite to most and can almost seem fatherly at times. He appears to be intimidating, but it is much more of an act, as he is really a kindhearted and tender individual under the façade he puts up. He tends to be more dominant with most, taking lead of conversation and other things, but under the right circumstances, he is comfortable being more relaxed and submissive with others. He is protective and clingy with his loved ones, and when his loyalty and trust is gained, he tends to be a 'ride or die' type of individual.
Likes: Nature, birds, Nike (more on her below), silver items, close friendships and other relationships, and listening to other's stories.
Dislikes: Deep water, sinners, his 'job', large flames, and car rides.
Hobbies: Running, going on hikes, and reading about history.
Bio: Thatcher first came into existence around 800 years ago. Around 500 years ago, he was caught up in the Witch trials, and because people believed him to be a witch, those people caught him and tried to burn him at the stake (causing the burn wounds on his body). When that didn't work, they attempted to drown him, but he escaped and left to heal from his wounds and trauma. During that time (around 400 years ago), he came across an abandoned, runt of the litter hell hound. He took in the starving pup and raised her until the present. He gave her the name Nike. In current times, he resides in the area he was assigned to find and dispose of those he was assigned to kill/heal.
Other: He isn't easily identified by those around him, and seems to be close to human by appearance. Nike looks similar in appearance to a Doberman, but to those who would be a target for Thatcher, she can appear more hellish and distorted.

Name: Princess Valiel Galcan
Age: 147- young adult, just came of age at '21' equivalent
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight, as far as she knows
Race: Caucasian, usually.
Species: Skin-changer. Like the rest of her people, she is able to shapeshift with ease, providing she has the strength and energy to do so. She's also light aligned, with mild magic in her blood.
Appearance: Standing 5'8" and weighing in at 135lbs, Princess Valiel is known for her striking auburn hair and flashing icy blue eyes. Her skin is very pale, similar to other Skin-changers of the Northern Hinterlands. If she had her way. she'd wear comfortable, drab clothing that would allow her to blend in. As it is, she's stuck with the gawdy dresses associated with royalty.
Personality: Valiel is a gentle soul. She avoids fights if she can, and is quick to help others. However, she's been through some garbage, which has given her a heart of steel, and she will not shy away from violence to defend herself and those she loves, if she must. However, she also just desperately wants to live a life free of royal expectations. That has lead to some issues in her heart and mind.
Likes: Music, swimming, the full moon
Dislikes: being cooped up, stuffy situations, two-faced people
Hobbies: Reading. She's not been allowed to have very many more.
Bio: The Galcans have ruled the Northern Hinterlands for generations, and have always passed off the kingdom to the next heir with ease. Valiel may be the first person to buck that. She grew up with all the privileges of royalty, and all the hurts of a child in a home with cold and abusive parents. She has lived beloved of her people, and with a target on her back as a royal. She's been verbally encouraged to learn who she is, while being actively repressed from any such action. And now, since coming of age recently, her father has been trying marry her off to pull in a male to inherit the throne. Valiel has never wished to be free of anything so badly.

The Northern Hinterlands. A frozen wasteland of snow and ice, punctuated here and there by small towns of people huddled together for warmth. To the north of the mainland was nothing but freezing ocean and ice floes; the south warmed a bit, and was hemmed in by the Evergreen Forest on the east, and the Wolf's Teeth mountain range on the west.
Nestled between the Wolf's Teeth and the Evergreen was the city of Konrack. A sprawling metropolis full of everything from wealthy merchant districts to slums, Konrack had as its center the Palace of Rime. It was from this Palace that Clan Galcan had ruled the Northern Hinterlands for centuries. A family of powerful Skin-changers, their legacy was cemented in the Hinterland's history books, as both villains and heroes over the years.
Rhethiak Galcan was no different. He had come to the throne young, and had battled to keep his lands safe and his people alive. He'd garnered the love and respect of his subjects, as well as the ire of many enemies.
It was no surprise then that one of those enemies would strike at Clan Galcan- not by going after the King, but by trying to destroy that which was most precious to him:

Princess Valiel.

(Yeah that's perfect!! There we go!)

The Council of High Reapers were strict on justice. They wanted the good healed and the bad punished, to keep the order of the world in line. But, like many other forms of government, they still took payments to shift the scales every once in a while.

That's where Reaper#72893 came in- Thatcher Wain. Hearing that he was selected for an important take down was amazing news for him. He prided himself on his work, and was pleased that The Council chose him to complete an important task. Finding out it was a princess of a hidden city in a chilly wasteland, though, did bruise his spirits in the slightest.

Travel had been difficult. Flying far enough as a murder of crows through cold weather was not made for him. Why they couldn't have chosen a snowy owl Reaper was beyond him. Worst of all, he had to listen to Nike complain the entire way. Hearing he whine and woof about how cold she was despite her leaving scorching footprints in the snow had started to get to him, and he was ready to get the job over with. What could a princess have done to deserve such a high profile take down? He would find that out now that he has landed on the outskirts of the settlement, shifting back into his human form and making his way into the city.

Valiel Galcan had very few activities that she fully enjoyed. One of the few was interacting with her people as something other than her royal self. The Hinterlands were full of different species and races, and finding a way to blend into a crowd had been a little game for her for a long time.
Being a Skin-changer, she was able to shapeshift to all kinds of things. Being a royal meant she had some restrictions placed on her. One of those was that she would always be identifiable. Some part of her would always carry the blazing auburn color of her natural hair, and her family and the guards used that to keep tabs on her.
But the average citizen of Konrack wasn't entirely familiar with what she looked like, so there was a small comfort in walking through the markets, looking at all the trinkets, and occasionally buying herself something from the local vendors. That's exactly what she was doing today.
The most annoying part, though, was the constant presence of guards, watching her, keeping track of her. Many people would miss them, and that allowed her to blend in a bit, but to anyone with watchful eyes, or anyone who knew what they were looking for, the two 'completely average' men following her and keeping her in sight stuck out like they were flourescent.

Valiel just hoped she'd get a few hours without someone pointing out she was the Princess. It was always followed by bowing and scraping and favors and formality, and she hated that. In fact, she'd been thinking about ways to get out of it since she was a child. Recently, those thoughts had turned more serious, as her father worked to get her married off to someone he was comfortable passing the throne off to. She'd seen some of the prospects, and she didn't like anyone of them, let alone think she could fall in love and be happy with them.
But none of that mattered to Father. It never had, and a conversation about it would just-… it would make him mad, and that was never good.
So even now, as she looked over small pendants and carved totems in at a booth in the market, her mind was thinking about that. She was wondering which of the lucky pendants had enough power to protect her from the coming mess.
Valiel doubted any of them would help.

Thatcher made his way into the city, Nike trotting along side of him. The civilians seemed to recoil at the dog, it clearly not being a regular of the cold region. Nike's fur was short and single coated, not meant for the chilly weather.

How would he identify the princess, much less get into the castle to reap her in the first place? He expected to see her wearing lavish clothes made from the finest material, surrounded by guards with weapons that he would have to subdue. It would be a messy task, he assumed.

But that was not what happened. He made his way into the market square, scanning the crowds. His eyes locked onto an individual, and a gut feeling told him that's who he was looking for. But what would a princess be doing alone, or so he thought, out at the market? He glanced down at Nike, who whined and tilted her head to the side. That had to be her. He couldn't reap her here in the middle of the market, though.

Thatcher approached the booth the princess was at, acting as a normal customer. He watched her eye a couple of pendants, and inched closer to where she was standing. "You should choose that one," he commented offhandedly when Valiel lifted a moonstone pendant, glancing down at her. "Matches your eyes."

Valiel's subtle light magic usually repelled dark creatures, but it also had marked her and drawn them to her before, so Fremik wasn't surprised when the tall figure with the hellhound stepped into her space. The stocky guard moved closer, trying not to crowd her, but also getting close enough to make sure that he could get there quickly if something happened.

Valiel glanced up at the very tall men next to her. He towered over her, even in her current form, and she got a vaguely threatening sense from him. But he spoke to her in kindness, so she gave him a small smile. "Thanks for the advice. I do like moonstone." It had a small collection of runes carved around the edge of the stone, which promised the wearer adventure. She turned to the shopkeep. "How much?"

The man in the booth had been watching this young lady, dark skinned with black hair dressed in lovely red, as she perused his wares. The sudden appearance of the tall man next to her had caught his attention, but he gave her a salesman's smile as she asked the price. "Shall we say 14 gold, ma'am? That's a steal for all the runework."

Valiel liked to support the local vendors. She handed him 15 without haggling. "Thank you very much."
Turning to continue her shopping, she gave the tall figure another smile. "I haven't seen you around before. New here?"

Thatcher had no idea that she wasn't human and could most likely see the distorted features of his hound- being red eyes, long sharp fangs, and a long, devil like tail. He had been given nothing besides a name and location when he was assigned this reap.

He eyed the man at the booth, standing a bit taller and holding his shoulders a bit more straight in a confident posture. Whatever the man's intentions were, it was clear that Thatcher had crashed it and was raining on his parade. 14 gold was a decent price. He couldn't imagine the reaction of the vendor if he discovered that Thatcher's blood was essentially liquid gold. But really only other Reapers and hunters knew that, and he was glad to keep it that way.

When Valiel spoke to him, his lips twitched into a polite and friendly smile. "As a matter of fact, yes I am. My dog and I just arrived in town today," he said, glancing momentarily in Nike's direction. "Would you happen to know of a place that has available rooms? You would be doing me a huge favor, getting me out of this cold."

He didn't want to hint that he knew who she was, not just yet. As far as she needed to know, he was just a passerby that needed to stop in the city for a rest.

Valiel was aware the shopkeeper had likely modified the price because of the presence of the tall figure next to her. She'd expected to pay a lot more.
So when he asked about a room, Valiel nodded. "There are a couple of spots. Just depends on how much you're willing to spend." She pointed off to the east. "There's cheap lodging that way. Just take the main road and you'll see the sign. Little place called Beshel's. The rooms might be a bit cramped for the two of you, but it's less than a silver for a full day's lodging. Or-" She pointed off to the north. "Again, straight up the main road, there's a tavern called Marla's Meals and More that rents out rooms. It's a little pricier, but there'd be plenty of room for both of you, and of course, it's right over a tavern. Easily available food and drink is always a plus." She gave him a smile, and waited for a moment. "I can walk you down to wherever you wind up going, but only if you tell me about your home. It's not often I get the chance to meet people from other places."

Thatcher listened to Valiel, nodding his head slowly as she spoke to him. He would likely splurge on the nicer room, partly for Nike’s sake. She was larger than the average Doberman and needed quite a bit of space. That and considering he was a large man himself, the both of them combined needed quite a bit of room.

“That’s nice of you, thank you, miss,” he replied politely with a nod of his head at her offer to show him to the lodging. “I’ll go with the second one. I’m not worried about it being on the pricier side.” He wasn’t wealthy by any means. He had no job, and his only funds were given to him by the High Council. It helped though that Nike could eat those he reaped, along with him not needing to eat food.

The mention of home. What did he consider to be his home? Where he was born? Or maybe the place he stayed when he wasn’t constantly on the job? That barely felt like a home, considering he was rarely there and mostly traveling around. “Ah, well I was born in France, but I have moved around and traveled quite a bit. I’m sort of… between housing at the moment. Traveling and seeing what sticks.” He didn’t like staying in one regular place for too long. The only reason he had that housing was because it was an apartment style residence for Reapers.

Valiel turned and began walking up the north road, heading towards Marla's. "Right this way then. It's not far." She knew Marla fairly well, and hoped the host wouldn't out her as the Princess. She preferred to keep that hidden around new people.

Fremik and Carth followed Valiel and the tall figure with the dog at a fair distance. The two guards could see Valiel was relaxed, but that didn't mean anything. The Princess always seemed relaxed, regardless of her actual feelings.

France was a place Valiel hadn't really heard much of. Just that it was far, far from her home. "Oh, you're a traveler? That must be exciting." Her voice got just a bit quieter. "I've always wanted to travel, myself, but so far I've needed to stick around here." She smiled at him and shrugged. "Family matters. You understand."
There was a moment before she went on. "So tell me about your travels. Where have you been, what have you seen, that kind of thing."

(Apologies in advance for any formatting/grammatical errors, I’ll be on mobile for the day)

Thatcher swiftly moved alongside Valiel to take stride walking next to her. It was not difficult for him to keep up, considering his height and the length of his legs. Nike trotted along side, tail swishing as she went. He was keenly aware of eyes on him. There must have been guards he missed, possibly dressed in civilian clothing. He was foolish to think that he could be lucky enough that the princess was alone.

Family matters, she had said. No, he didn’t quite understand. Given that Reapers were taken from their parents quite young by the Council to be trained to kill, he didn’t remember them too much. He wasn’t aware of any siblings he had either. The closest he had to family was Nike and a couple of other Reapers that he had grown close to.

“Ah, I’ve seen quite a bit. Met lots of people, been to more places than I could even remember. This is by far the coldest place I have been to, I think,” He replied with a bit of laughter. What was the easiest way to word ‘I travel to kill people’ without actually saying that? “I mostly travel for business purposes. I’m a… mortician, of sorts.”

Valiel smiled at his explanation. "More places than you can remember, huh? That must be exciting…" She looked away from him for a moment, as if looking at their surroundings. Really, it was a moment to keep her jealousy about the kind of life she would never have under wraps. She glanced over at him again with a laugh. "Oh, it's cold here, but you should head further north. We're in the 'warm south' of the Hinterlands here."
She looked at him with renewed interest as he mentioned his job. "Oh. That's… I've never heard of a travelling mortician before. Do you…. is there a reason that's a travelling job?"

They came to a large three story building, with Marla's Meals and More painted over the door in stylized cursive. Valiel went right in, leading her tall friend into a large tavern. Lots of tables and chairs, a huge fireplace along one wall, a bar across the other, and stairs in the corner leading up to the rooms on the second and third stories. The tavern was busy, full of all kinds of people eating and drinking. There was a table surrounded by burly men and a few women, where a dwarf dressed in thick furs, and a troll of some kind, were armwrestling. Bets were being placed and jeers tossed around. Another table had a silent poker game going on, with each of the gamblers staring stone-faced at their cards. The weapons laying on the table spoke to the seriousness of it.
The most striking thing, though, was the waitstaff. All female, and quite beautiful.
And also huge. Every barmaid, every server, was over 7ft tall, and some of them were much bigger. Several of them had a blue tint to their skin that suggested other than human heritage, and all of them had the kind of beauty that came from toned muscles instead of supple curves.
Valiel weaved through the tables and approached the bar, where she caught the eye of the towering 9ft bartender. The giantess approached, her blonde hair covered in a thin layer of frost. "Ah, hello! What can I do for you today, girly?" She smiled at Valiel, and the princess was relieved that Marla hadn't immediately mentioned who she was. "Brought me another vagabond off the streets?"

Valiel smiled at glanced at her tall friend. "Oh, he's no vagabond. But he is a customer." She gestured at the tall lady behind the bar. "This is Marla. And Marla, this is-" she stopped, as she realized she hadn't bothered to ask his name. "Uh, that is-"

Thatcher hummed are Valiel’s comment about traveling being exciting. He could have said the opposite. He wished he could settle down in one spot, but it was simply impossible.

When asked about his traveling mortician job, he cleared his throat a bit. What would be the best answer to that? Considering it was a lie he had come up with on the spot, he had to think quickly. “I travel to various morgues and help out other morticians. I’m, uh, still in training at the moment to I’m still learning.” Again, lie. He was one of the more experienced Reapers for his age group. He had worked thousands of jobs, and completed thousands of reapings. That was most likely why they had given him such a high profile job.

When he stepped into the tavern with Valiel, his brows raised in surprise. He thought he was on the taller side, but everyone in the room happened to be taller than him. He glanced over at Nike, whose ears were back in the slightest. If they were non-human, they could see Nike’s true form and see that she was clearly a hellhound and not a simple Doberman. He momentarily rested his hand on her neck, giving her a reassuring pat. They wouldn’t know he was a Reaper. It wasn’t a common thing for Reapers to have hellhounds. He could fake innocence and claim to not know what they were talking about, that he couldn’t see her devilish features and that he simply found her on the streets.

Thatcher stood next to Valiel as the woman at the counter greeted them. Valiel must frequent here and bring in individuals who need a place to stay. It was a kind act, and he began to wonder why he was set to kill her. “Thatcher Wain, pleasure to meet you,” he spoke up, giving a nod of his head towards Nike who was now sitting next to him. “Do you allow dogs?”

Valiel had been a bit distracted when he answered her question about his job, so he got away with the lie for now.

The denizens of the tavern didn't really seem to notice Thatcher, or Nike either. They all seemed engrossed in what they were doing.
However, a few did look up, and despite making eye contact with Nike, gave no indication that a hellhound was cause for concern. The Hinterlands had seen worse, after all.

Valiel brightened at the introduction. "Nice to meet you, Thatcher. I'm Alnifer Theriac. Glad we bumped into each other today."

Marla smiled down at them both. "Absolutely. You'll find we allow all kinds here. Just know you're responsible for the care and clean-up of and after any companions. How long do you need a room for?"

(Sorry for any bad formatting, on mobile for a while)

Thatcher breathed out in relief when Alnifer didn’t mention anything about Nike’s breed. He glanced down at Nike, whose tail was swishing happily.

At the question on how long he would need a room for, he glanced down at Valiel for a moment. Surely this wouldn’t be a quick overnight job, considering her status. “I’ll need one for two weeks, if possible,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and taking out a pouch that contained gold coins. He assumed he should have more than enough, it was given to him by the Council for this job. “How much will it be?”

(youre fine!)

Valiel/Alnifer glanced at Nike. She saw the true form, but she also saw the creature swishing its tail, like any happy canine. She was glad she hadn't recoiled when she'd initially felt the darkness rolling off of these two. She had learned, over long years, that not all creatures aligned to darkness were inherently evil, just as those aligned to the light were not inherently good.
That last bit was a lesson she knew very well.
She watched the interaction between Marla and Thatcher with interest. He was staying for 2 weeks. That meant he would likely find out who she was in due time. But still…. the fun was in keeping the veil up as long as she could.

Marla nodded and stooped to pull a large ledger from under the bar. She opened it and checked a few pages, before smiling at Thatcher. "We have a room free that long that should be big enough for both of you. It's on the third floor. Price is 1 gold per person per day per room, so 28 gold total for the two of you. I'll give it to you for 25 even if you pay it all at once."

(Ok, I wanted to make sure so I could reply accordingly)

Thatcher considered it to be a decent price. He could easily be able to pay the entire fee upfront. He opened the pouch and counted out twenty five gold coins. He handed it over to the worker. “25 even. Is there anything else that you need?” he asked, stuffing the pouch back into his pocket.

The only belongings he carried with him were in a small bag that he had strung over his shoulders. A couple of extra sets of clothes, mainly. Reapers had no need for food or water so he didn’t bother packing any provisions. Nike could go hunting out in the wilderness outside of the city and find either a lone, unfortunate traveler or a wild animal.

“I appreciate the help with getting me set up in a room,” Thatcher said, turning to Valiel. He had a polite smile on his lips, and Nike barked happily, seeming to second Thatchers words.

Marla counted the gold with the quick fingers and practiced ease of a woman who handled a lot of money, and smiled at Thatcher. "Just a signature." She spun the ledger around and handed him a charcoal stick. "Next to the space for room 308." She turned and stashed the gold in a small lockbox under the far side of the bar. "That fee covers a free drink every night you're here, though the rest of your food and drink is on you to cover. Our only rules are don't start brawls in your room if you can avoid it, and if you bed one of my girls, we're not liable for any harm, bodily or otherwise, that comes to you." She kept the same smile in place through the whole explanation.

Valiel chuckled at Marla's spiel. It was always the same, and always made her laugh a little. Few men were brave enough to try to get one of the half-giants to accompany them to their rooms, but the few that did always ended up staying a little longer, recovering.
She smiled at Thatcher's thanks. "Of course. Anything else I can help you with? What's got you in the city for 2 weeks?"

Thatcher took the charcoal stick from Marla’s hand, signing the paper as he listened to her rules. His brows raised slightly at the bit about getting with any of the women there. An awkward chuckle came from his mouth as he handed back the charcoal stick. As touch deprived as he was, it would go against his code to indulge in intercourse when he should be working and reaping. He wondered why Valiel brought him to this place, if he appeared like the type to want to rent out a woman’s time for the night.

“You won’t have to worry about us, thank you,”Thatcher said to Marla with a nod before he turned his attention back to Valiel. “Ah, just a job. Boss sent me out to help a local mortician, so I’ll be in town for two weeks at the most.” Lying through his teeth was thankfully something he was very good at doing. He had to- how else would he get closer to his targets?