the darkest part of the woods; advanced roleplay discussion
Character Creation
>
Character Workshop
date
newest »
newest »
message 1:
by
Crow, Gogo The Prince
(new)
Mar 04, 2020 11:32AM
Mod
reply
|
flag
Mod
-
| Connall | Salvaterre | The Spring Prince |
| True Name | Gadfly |
| Physical Age | 23 | Real Age | Older than the Courts |
| Face Claim | Eduard Badaluta |
| Additional Appearances |
(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]| Fae Imperfection |
Connall has completely golden pupils and irises, immediately informing everyone of who he is.
| Biography |
Connall was born in the time before court, before there ever was a Queen. When the fae were wilder, completely untamed. When only strongest could survive, and those who were weak fell like flies. He saw the wild fae and he thought they needed to be reined in. For the wild fae to come together, to grow strong together. Four others shared his view, together they were the strongest fae to ever walk the Vale. The fought against the wild fae, binding their magic to theirs and forming the Courts. At that time magic had been stronger and the fae no longer hold the power they once did in those times. Connall formed the Spring Court with his magic and those he had bound to him. He laid claim the the birth of the seasons, the powers of spring became his. When he and the others Princes were forming their lands they needed a catalyst to hold the power of all the courts. A fae strong enough to bind the courts to her will. She was the first Queen of the Faerie and last, or at least Connall hopes she was the last. For he didn't know that he would be bound to her for eternity when she helped the Princes form the Courts. He never guessed that she would continue to wield the powers of each court. He and the other Princes ruled under her for countless millennia, yoked by her power. They served her. He has his fellow Princes strained under her rule, wishing to be free again. Now many assume she was a terrible Queen and that's why the Princes revolted. A lie. She was as kind as any Faerie could be, and she served her people well. Yet the princes wanted more than just a semblance of control in their courts, they wanted complete and utter power. The gathered together and plotted against the Queen, eventually coming to the Queen together with a gift. They had made a sweet wine from the summer courts fields, and they had laced it with iron. When the Queen drank the wine Connall remembers that she had looked at him for help as she lay dying. He had only turned away, his greed completely taking him over. He's never lied about that day though, not once. Though few ask him. He killed the Queen for himself and no other. Hundreds of years after the Queen had died Connall feel in love. A love that almost burned him to ashes. Her name had been Isabelle, a painter. He had visited her a thousand times, each time under the guise that he wanted another portrait made. Only so that he could be in the same room as her, to laugh with her, to hear her sing. He hardly even knew he loved her, fae rarely fall in love and he had never loved anything but himself before her. At times he thought she might love him back, a thought he held onto long after she had passed away. She meant everything to him, he would've burned every court to the ground for her, but she never asked anything of him. Only asked what enchantment he offered as payment for her paintings. He loved her so much that he didn't notice her aging, days for him were months for her. Then one day he came to her house, and found she had passed away in her sleep. She had married years ago her children greeted the Prince. He had been there for most of their lives. It was the only time the Spring Prince cried, the only time he really felt grief and loss. He took the ring that had often adorned her fingers when he visited since she hadn't been more that twenty. The only part of her he'd be able to keep with him.
| Personality |
Like all fae Connal put's on a semblance of human emotion, wearing it like one would a masquerade mask. He'll play at love, at anger, at grief, and sorrow. He never feels it though, or at least he pretends he never does. He doesn't trust love, not after the only one he ever loved had died. No that is a emotion he never wishes to feel again. He locked his heart up long ago, never would he make the same mistake. Connall is the epitome of faerie arrogance, the Spring Prince bows to no one. His throne and his court are all that matter to him now, and he will do anything to protect what is his. Never again will he bow to another Queen or King, he is the Spring Prince and those you stand against him would be wise to remember that. He doesn't trust the other princes, they all had turned against their Queen. What would stop them from turning against him? The whispers of a new Queen of the Faerie, have made his paranoia about losing his throne even worse. He has sent out his wild hunt more times in recent year than he has in a hundred, to find the Queen. No will take his throne from him.
| Miscellaneous Information |
Connall wears a plain silver ring on a chain around his neck, the only reminder of the girl he had loved. He'd tear apart heaven and hell to find the ring if it was stolen or lost. He visits the girl he once loved's grave once a year, and he'll visit her still living family.
| Playlist |
Nina Cried Power - Hozier, Mavis Staples
In the woods somewhere - Hozier
Love and War - Fleurie
Young as the Mountains, Young as the Sea - Passenger
The Woods - Hollow Coves (hide spoiler)]
Mod
(view spoiler)[
| Cerica | Volan | The Hound Master of Summer |
| True Name | Tosa Inu |
| Physical Age | 20 | Actual Age | 1,897 |
FC
| Sky Ferreira |
| Fae Appearance |
(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]
| Fae Imperfection |
Canine’s and eyes. Cerica’s canines are more, animal-like. Carnivorous. When she pulls back her lips, or speaks, it’s easy to see them.
The Hound Master of Summer’s eyes are a pure gold with slitted pupils, making it very easy to point her out amounts a crowd.
| Personality |
Cerica is a very, humble fae. Through her past experiences, she’s learned that even though she may never truly be content with the world around her, she can at the very least make do with what she has now. What’s so surprising, is the reason why Cerica is so looked up at for choosing such a job- is because of how sane she is. Those around her admit they couldn’t take the grief of so many losses after a few hundred years. Let alone almost two thousand years. She’s strong-minded. Has a warm heart for mortals and animals, and appreciates the very world around her.
Cerica wants more though. Ever since she was a young fae, she’s always wanted to see more. Do more. Have more. It wasn’t greed, but knowledge. The thing about her, is that she’s always the one to know what to do- and if there’s a situation that she cannot find a solution, she will spend days, maybe months pondering on it. Always trying to make sure it could never happen again.
The way Cerica acts, speaks, is odd compared to her fellow fae. She speaks more slowly. Unlike the rapid elegance many find in the normal pace of fae’s words, Cerica is more, paced. Slow. She plans out her actions, words, expression, everything! She plans it out in merely what fae consider milliseconds. Her words come out slow, but her reflexes come out quicker then you’d expect. Reflexes and speed of a Wolf, she is told. With the bite of one, and the lingering sense of a small calamity as well.
To The Hound Master of Summer’s knowledge, their name isn’t known well. Like many others, their goal in life is to make their name known, to be spoken about for ages after they are no longer physically in this world.
This is already true for this fae.
| History |
Cerica was born into a short bloodline of Fae that resided somewhere among the Court of Spring. They were most famous for the way they interacted with the world around them, cherished it. They seemed to have a connection to the world- more specificity, animals. Each member of this bloodline had this, bond, with a specific type of animal category. Eventually, as the bloodline grows, it will become more specific. Yet this is in the long, distant future. IF they decide to breed.
Cerica’s mother, for instance, had a bond with the category of Hares, Rabbits, etc. While her father had a bond with serpents, snakes. When Cerica was born, you could imagine the shock when stray dogs came in two’s to curl beside her, to provide warmth. When pack’s of wolves came down from the mountains bearing offerings of food for the child and her family.
Due to the bloodline’s fear of being mis-used for their certain bonds, the family had no exact, home. Due to this, she grew to know about different parts about the court’s different cultural.
By the time she reached her seven hundredth birthday, her family was nothing more but her, and a handful of cousins. Soon, they would realize that moving at the speed they were, wasn’t enough. The moment they had reached the Summer Court, the eyes of many were upon them. After centuries of living at the place she was born, they had to come down from the peaks. With their arrival, came the whispers of their power. Too much was said, and it reached the ears of nobles.
“Go rot in hell.”
Those four words were that she had uttered to the Prince of Summer’s very face the first time they met. Oh how her attitude gave her the job she has now. Over time, her spite and anger to the Court she was now lived in, dulled her. After years of watching death grasp those she was bound to, make her go numb.
Being the last of a family was, hard.
| M.I |
Cerica wears the tags of her fallen friends on her every moment she lives. From day-to-day she switches out between each and has up to six of them on her begin every day. She has hundred’s of them, and if one would go missing, she’d know in an instant.
She also has a room dedicated to ash art. Each one dedicated to each passed on dog. A phot lies behind each one, with a small hook underneath it. On the hook, the dog tag hangs. She cherish’s this room- if even one of these pieces of art were to be broken, she’d mourn for days.
| Playlist |
miracles - Stalking Gia & BlackBear
candles - Daughter
Youth - Daughter
The Wolf - Siamese
Hi-Low - Bishop Briggs
White Horses - Bishop Briggs
White Flag - Bishop Briggs (hide spoiler)]
Mod
(view spoiler)[
((Obviously a take on the Puck from literally any faerie tale))
| Puck | Goodfellow | The Spring Trickster |
| True Name | Robin |
| Physical Age | 20 | Actual Age | 2209 |
| Face Claim | Federico Massaro |
(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)] | Fae Imperfection |
Pucks canine teeth appear longer and more pointed than any mortals teeth should be.
| Biography |
Puck was born in the Spring lands, to a family of wild fae. The last of the wild fae, before the Princes hunted the down the wild fae forcing them into courts. Pucks family was one of tricksters. They were known for the tricks they played on mortals, on other fae. No one trusted the last of the wild fae, and fae like Puck made sure they never would. His child hood was spent all over the known world, spreading chaos and mischief. He couldn't stay in one place for to long, that was far to dangerous.
People don't like someone else getting the better of them. He personally has tricked every Prince into something that they never wanted. The Spring Prince had been the easiest, the arrogant prick had barely even bothered checking to see if the gift Puck had given him was actually a gift. Puck excelled at what he did, playing with mortals and fae alike.
When he arrived at court everyone knew why he was there, to spread mischief and chaos. He'll joke that the two are his best qualities. Well he spent centuries trapezing across the four courts and the lands beyond, until he insulted one to many people. He angered the fae king of the undersea, tricked him into marrying all his daughters to a fish. Not his best work but it pressed the right buttons.
He fled the sea, to the courts and pleaded his case to each prince. He had tricked them all to many times, played with them and their courts and so summer, autumn, and winter all turned him away. They'd Laughed at his misfortune, the trickster you had played to many tricks. He didn't expect anything different from the spring prince, he'd made that male look as much of a fool as he did the rest. So when he begged for protection he fully expected to be turned away again. All the others had why wouldn't Connall?
So when he was given asylum, he hardly believed his own ears. Of course there was some conditions. He would join Connall's court as the trickster, the jester, the entertainment. He could never again play his tricks on those under Connall's protection. Though that wasn't all, Connall saw the opportunity his fellow princes didn't. Puck had made fools out of every single one of them, what was to stop him from doing it to them again. He saw a way to keep his other princes on there toes, for with Puck spring had more than a couple tricks up it's sleeve.
| Personality |
Puck is always laughing at some personal joke, a frown has never crossed his handsome feature. He thinks people take everything to seriously, for what is life without laughs. Boring and completely worthless in his opinion. So he fully intends to laugh his way to death. The crueler the joke the more he will laugh, and the more he laughs the crueler his jokes become.
No one is safe from his tricks, well at least most aren't safe. He'll think up some prank or joke in seconds after meeting someone, finding their exact pressure points that will make their downfall as amusing as possible. He doesn't care for anyone enough for them to be truly safe from him, for their is always something worth laughing about in a person. Their flaws, their fears, anything that can be exploited will be. Most tend to keep away from him, and his mocking laughter.
Though there is always some unfortunate soul that gets drawn in. Someone who get's caught up in the game, in his amused smile. The only person who seems to have any hold over him at all is the only one he won't dare cross, his prince, the only reason he isn't dead beneath the sea. He values his safety far more than he'll let on, and he won't allow his amusement to get in the way of it.
Life is full pleasures, an immortal should have time try them all no? Puck is always finding his boredom growing and he tries new things to keep himself excited, it his own drug. Without it, he isn't him. He has an eternity to live and he intends to dance and sing to sunset and feast with abandon. Without excitement why is he even alive?
| Miscellaneous Information |
Puck is always looking to sow chaos and mischief, to alleviate his boredom. He's always thing up some scheme or another, most of which are never actually carried out but he likes to have back up plans.
| Playlist |
Come Along - Cosmic Sheldrake
The Wolves and the Ravens - Rogue Valley
Blood//Water - grandson (hide spoiler)]
Mod
| Maeve | Moonsilver | Lady of Winter |
| True Name | Raven |
| Physical Age | 19 | Actual Age | 304 |
| Face Claim | Alex Moxham |
| Fae Imperfection |
Maeves hair is pure white, and her eyes are a crystal clear blue.
| Biography |
Maeve is young for the fae, she hasn't seen the countless millennia go by like some of the other fae. She was raised in the Winter Court in a small human village on the farthest reaches of the ice plains. She was left to find her own way by her parents, winter court nobles who felt that any child that couldn't survive in the snow was useless. So she survived, the is a winter fae what else could she do. The humans of the village took her in, well at least some of them did. Most couldn't stand the sight of her, and Maeve couldn't really blame them. She'd seen the horrors of the Winter Court, the violence barely hidden behind polite smiles. One mortal took a liking to her at least, an old woman whose family had all long since passed away. Maeve always guessed that the the woman, Ella, had tired of loneliness and had needed a companion. Something Maeve wasn't necessarily good at, humans feel differently from fae, and Maeve wasn't sure what to feel for the old woman. She cared for her though, and Ella practically raised the young Maeve. At least raised her for as long as she could, the major drawback of growing attached to mortal is inevitably loosing them. Maeve underestimate how much the rest of the townspeople had hated her. The people were driven rugged in the Winter Courts mines, and had so very little to show for it. All it took was one drunken mortal to start a mob. Maeve was asleep when it happened and she woke to the smell of smoke. The cottage had been set on fire, and Ella was trapped in her room. The door was burning and a beam had fallen blocking the elderly woman's exit. Maeve wouldn't leave without Ella, she screamed and cried but she couldn't get her out. Finally she forced her way through the burning door, it was to late. everything in the room was ablaze, nothing was untouched. Maeve ran from the fire, horror burning in her. It was to much to care, to much for her poor immortal heart. So she locked it away, and promised herself that she'd never care again.
| Personality |
Maeve heart is broken, completely and utterly. The first time she cared was met with something she longs to forget. She doesn't let herself start to care for anything, as soon as she starts to she runs. She runs and runs until there's she can't remember what she had started to care for. She never let's anything pierce the icy walls she's built up over the past two centuries. Nothing get's through, pr at least she tries to pretend nothing gets through. She darts around the winter lands, bringing her icy heart along with her. No one will ever hurt her again, on that she's sure. Nothing can hurt you if nothing gets close to you. Instead she pushes others away before she can grow to care for them. Hurting other before they hurt her, you never have to defend if you always attack. She paints the picture people expect to see, the icy lady of Winter her heart long since frozen over.
| Playlist |
Scars - Boy Epic
Heart of Darkness - Tommee Profitt
Control - Hasley (hide spoiler)]
Cassia(view spoiler)[
Name: Cassiopeia Ate Peitho Athanasiou St. Clair
Nicknames: Cassia, Cassie, Cass
Age: 18
Gender: F
Species: Human
Court: Summer Court
Appearance:
Personality:
Family:
Father: Leonidas Athanasiou
Mother: Alkyone Athanasiou
Sister: Alexandria St. Clair
Occupation: Cook
History:
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
Scathach
(view spoiler)[
Name: Scathach Aubrey Kilwing
True Name:
Physical Age: 16
Actual Age: 1,086
Gender: F
Species: Fae
Court: Summer Court
Appearance: athach’s bright, scarlet locks tangle in fierce curls an inch past her square shoulders. No matter how thoroughly and carefully she combs them, they always frame her face and spread about her neck and shoulders in an untamed fashion, so most of the time she braids it down her back or pins it atop her head in a messy bun. However, a few, red wisps of curls refuse to be corralled with the rest of her locks and curl restlessly near her cheeks or forehead. Her fiery, orange eyes gleam determinedly, marking her clearly as fae, the dominant species in this world. When properly provoked, only few things exist that rival the savage flames of fury in her irises. Like all the fae in her family, Scathach has a second imperfection. Two, short bull horns protrude from the top of her head amidst a wild sea of red and curve outwards in a crescent shape. The tip of the left horn is roughly half an inch shorter and slightly duller than the right, but this is only noticeable from short distances. Her skin no longer retains the porcelain delicateness of the nobility and has been tanned and worked into evenly sunkissed, olive tones with callouses and thick layers of muscle. Her face has prominent cheekbones in middling placement and a square forehead, and short, black-brown lashes adorn her eyes. Dark ginger eyebrows curve smoothly above her eyes in a gently sloping arch, and her chin is slightly rounded like the overall shape of her face, though it does have a few sharper features. In contrast to her elder sister, Scathach’s lips exhibit a natural, soft pink hue, and her cheeks are dusted with shades of rose and ripe strawberry. Rippling muscles cover her broad-set shoulders and the back of her short torso, and toned abdominal muscles shield the lower front half of her torso. Her chest is mostly flat, and she possess only the vaguest of curves. Her hands, arms, and feet remain small, but over the past several centuries, they’ve toughened, the skin forming callouses. Sheets of muscle wrap around both her thighs and calves, and a few, faded scars twist around her upper legs. Her body has no tattoos or piercings except for one hole in each of her earlobes, but both piercings have mostly grown shut now.
Personality:
Family:
Father: Llyr Kilwing
Mother: Brynhildr Kilwing
Brother: Elisedd Kilwing
Sister: Aoife Kilwing
History:
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]
August Ashbury ❀ Dormouse ❀ 21 ❀ Older than the Courts
Fyodor Houtheusen
Personality;❀❀❀ August's imperfection is the lack of a voice box rendering him unable to speak. As a result, he's a very quiet person which is amplified by the fact that he doesn't like to communicate when unnecessary. He also prefers to isolate himself from others, choosing to stay inside his tower reading books while others do the hard work. People tend not to know much about him because of his reclusivity which makes him quite an enigmatic figure. His stoic nature also means that he's difficult to read, most people struggle to discern his opinion on things.
❀❀❀ As a Prince, August makes efforts to be a just ruler, doing what he believes to be best for the court as a whole. He utilises reason to make decisions and actively avoids all bias. He is strict and harsh on those who disobey, but values hard work and loyalty deeply and rewards both. Regarding the other Princes, he couldn't care much less about them so long as they stay away from him, but he has no quarrels with deceiving them or even strong-arming them into staying far away from his court. He dislikes their power and influence, but at the same time, they are sadly the closest things he has to friends. He isolates himself from his people and so his time with them forming the courts was the most time he had spent with anyone else. If they can prove they mean him no ill-will he may soften up on them.
❀❀❀ He's known by most to be exceptionally intelligent and knowledgeable. He studies history, mathematics, and the more esoteric subjects dutifully. He applies his knowledge constantly and due to his keen mind, he is especially difficult to deceive or trick. His superior attitude and wrathfullness are tempered by reason which is why he makes for a good ruler, though his selfishness and wrath can still be inflamed and are the easiest way to blind him to deception.
❀❀❀ Although he presents himself as an unfeeling scholar who enacts justice with a steady hand, August does have some semblance of emotion. He suppresses it because he views feelings as frivolous and weak, but he has them nevertheless. The Prince himself is unaware of them and doesn't quite realise how they influence what he does, but they affect him in little ways unbeknownst to everyone.
History;
❀❀❀ The Fae Prince lived in a world of chaos. Freedom made his kind arrogant and wild, but August was not like the other Fae with all their raucous noise. His imperfection rendered him mute, he had no voice box and spent his life in total silence. Whilst others clamoured about the excitements of the past, present and future, the red-haired faerie observed in silence. With him there was no unnecessary babble, he didn't spout whatever nonsense filled his brain like the fools that surrounded him. For him to communicate was an act requiring effort, he only did so when absolutely necessary. Though he could not speak he expressed his opinions in other ways and when he did others listened for he only spoke of vital matters.
❀❀❀ It was, perhaps, his imperfection that made the russet eyed faerie feel so superior to the rest of his kind. To him they seemed frivolous, whereas he was shrewd, he did what was necessary and only when the necessary was done would he even consider the frivolous. What he saw in the world was imperfection born from disorder. When he met four others who sought to unite the Fae and create structure in their world, August was swift to ally himself with them. Through conquest he became the Prince of Autumn, deriving astonishing power from the season's various aspects.
❀❀❀ The Autumn Prince expected endurance and fortitude from those who served him, they worked hard to do the necessary work, shrugging aside the frivolous whims of their pasts. The Prince was cold and showed little compassion for those who could not keep up with their work. He stayed stowed away in his tower while others toiled. He was above them in every way or so he believed and thus wouldn't deign to work alongside them, but instead resigned himself to the more scholarly pursuit of learning. The more he learned the better he could rule his lands. Despite his lack of direct contribution to the work done, August did still value the work of his people. Bountiful rewards awaited the loyal, harvests full of healthy crops and lively Autumn festivals were amongst the most acclaimed of his rewards.
❀❀❀ The Prince's benevolence, however, was not unlimited. When laziness and disloyalty became apparent his wrath was legendary. Blistering winds and torrential rains tore through the forests ripping vibrant leaves from ancient trees. Rot and decay took root in wood and plants alike, razing crops and even homes. August doesn't care for the well-being of the individual, but instead for the well-being of the court overall and he takes no great sorrow in wiping out those who jeopardise his reign and court.
❀❀❀ Once upon a time, the Queen held his power in check, but August, alongside the other Princes, saw to her demise. He watched as the life left her eyes. He was unflinching. "As with nature, all things must die," he thought. She was no different than the leaves on the trees, and like them, she would wither away to make way for a new season, a new era. He had only been asked about the event once by a faerie of his court. They were greeted by the Prince's silence and the seemed simply to vanish the next day. Everyone knew that he was complicit in her death after that, but weighed the risks and rewards of calling him out and realised that so long as they obeyed him they'd live happy lives under his sole reign. No one dared to question it directly to him, and they all went on with life and were rewarded handsomely for their compliance.
❀❀❀ Though a somewhat cold and insensitive ruler, most would attest that August is a just and fair Prince aside from his sense of personal superiority. He respects the work of his people and in turn, they tend to respect him. With rumours of a new Queen arising, August fears that she may disrupt the stability he has managed to achieve and as such is vehemently opposed to the idea of the Queen coming to power. Due to this, his more wrathful side has made numerous appearances recently in order to silence the rumours. Many within the Autumn court choose to continue with their day to day life so that they can remain on the Prince's better side.
"Beware the dangers of the Ice-Heart that hides within the Myst."First Name / Middle Name / Last Name:
Pandora Ice
(view spoiler)[
True Name: Unknown
Physical Age | Actual Age: Unknown
Type of Fae: Myst Elf
Title: Lady....
Court: Unknown
DOB: Unknown
Sexuality: Confused
Fae Imperfection: She was born with a jewel in her heart and has no past memories
Face Claim/Appearance:
https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/MWwAAO...
Eye Color: Ice- sapphire with silver
Hair Color: Silver
Skin: Porcelain
(Optional) Tattoo:
(Optional) Scar:
(Optional)Marking(s): A birthmark on the back of her neck:
https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/l...
Personality: Pandora is unusually uniquely innocent in just about everything. Her child-like innocence leaves her unfamiliar with the evils of the world around her. But that doesn't mean she can't see evil for what it is. She is kind and caring to all that she meets. But beware the storm that lies beneath for if it was to break free uncontrollably all in her path would suffer.
History: Once long ago a spell was cast on her causing her to sleep until the call of true love woke her up. She woke in a place hidden behind a beautiful waterfall. As she woke she knew nothing of what had happened nor the knowledge of the world she woke to. In the myst of her lack of memory she does recall her name, the fact that she is a Myst Elf, that she was born with a jewel in her heart called the Ice-Heart and that something bad happened. She is lost and alone, left to wander among Fae she doesn't know. Only fate knows the path her journey will take her.
[ Playlist ]
"Song Name" - "Artist Name"
Nemo- Nightwish
Everdream- Nightwish
Élan- Nightwish
Storytime- Nightwish
Last Ride of the Day- Nightwish
(hide spoiler)]
Mod
(view spoiler)[
| Vex | Summertin | Prince of Summer |
| True Name | Vixin |
| Physical Age | 21 | Actual Age | Older then the courts themselves |
| Face Claim | Benjamin Orlando |
Additional Appearance
(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]
| Fae Imperfection |
Vex claims that they’re just tattoos- but his Fellow Princes know better. The black swirls that cover the left side of his face, his shoulder, and his left arm, are full of many different things. Sharp lines and odd angles mix to create a beautiful scene, a sun rising or maybe falling over the ocean.
Another thing, less noticeable, is extra set of dagger-like teeth hidden behind his white pearls.
| Biography |
Vex was born in the time before court, before there ever was a Queen. When the fae were wilder and bred like rabbits, and only those who were but of a mere unimportance were kilt. Vex was one among four who deemed this as something, pitiful. They were the strongest of Fae to ever be known, they had many names, and many enemies. Many believed that the race of Fae should have their own will and able to do as they please, wether it be killing or mere petty theft from humans. The Four disagreed, and fought those who went against their wishes. At that time magic had been stronger, but it’s sad that the fae no longer hold the power they once did in those long years. Vex formed the Summer Court with his magic and those he had bound to him. He laid claim the the most brightest of the seasons, the powers of the heat and sun became his. When he and the others Princes were forming their lands they needed a catalyst to hold the power of all the courts. A fae strong enough to bind the courts to her will. She was the first Queen of the Faerie and last, or so they all hoped. None of the Princes knew that they would be bound to her for eternity when she helped the Princes form the Courts. He never guessed that she even with no crown to wear or throne to sit upon, she would continue to wield the powers of each court. He and the other Princes ruled under her for countless millennia, yoked by her power. They served her.
The Princes had gathered together and plotted the Queen’s demise, eventually coming to the Queen together with a gift. They had made a sweet wine from the summer courts fields, and they had poisoned it with the raw, untouched pieces of iron that Vex could find in mines, then melt it to pure liquid and dust. When the Queen drank the wine Vex remembers that she had looked at his Half-brother for help as she lay dying, but he had merely turned away. So, she turned to Vex, and clutched his face in one hand, the other gripping his own, then she cursed him. Vex remembers the power she had sent through his veins, attacking his mind and trying to destroy him from within. Vex was thankful that the poison took over then, and with it her.
But not before she could curse him.
Prince of the eternal Summer lands, you shall be weakened in the bones and never sleep without hearing my scream. Never shall you find silence, or never shall you seek an end to this pain unless you wish to find me once again.
Weeks after her death, the marks began to form, and true to her words, Vex has never been able to sleep since that day. Some think he’d been mad by now, but actually he’s just rather, wise and foul-tongued.
Along with her death, came the betrayal of his half-brother. They had once been so close, but now they spite eachother more then you’d think was able to exist. Simply over a stupid disagreement that they no longer trusted one another or played nice.
Yet they still bother one another after all these years.
| Personality |
Although the Prince of Summer is the most.. childish... of the four, he is the eldest, and therefor wisest. The person that comes merely close to his age is still a few thousand years apart from him. He was there to watch Fae come and go, killing as they please. They didn’t dare touch him, a Fae containing such a raging fire in his heart. Vex was, and still is, a little trickster... often he pulls harmless gags on his fellow Princes, and keeps them on their toes. He likes to stir up trouble, and they all know he does it because he’s the most bored out of them all.
But, Vex has his moments. He might be the most childish, but that doesn’t mean he can’t act like a warrior. Having the most resources for war, he has to do something with it, right? Vex is a strategic person, the most creative and mischievous person out of the Princes, he’d sadly be the first one to be taken out because of this.
His main weakness is him court, and those who reside in it. Vex worries much about his people and how they deal with their lives, and tends to interfere a bit and help when he can- some say he’s weak for it, but he has the crowd’s favor. With that, he has the heart or the most brightest gold. His morals are, too good to be true. The Summer Court is known to be lavish and joyful because, Vex wants everyone to be happy. Well..
Besides his dear Half-brother Connall. Aka “Pain in the ass brother of mine” as he addresses his brother in letters. These two.. bring out the chaos and anger in one another for sure. The Fae and mortals alike are always ready for a war, but it never comes.
| Miscellaneous Information |
- Summer Court Prince has a strange power of what he stole from the Queen called ‘shifting’, but the ‘shifting’ is limited to one form.
- Chosen form;
- The form he chose has very colorful fur matching the plumage of a blue and gold macaw, a pair of large tusks/canines poking out of his mouth, simular to the tusks of an elephant. Unlike saber-tooth cats, which is what his form is most compared to, he has a longer tail with more then thirteen joints in it.
| Playlist |
Weak - AJR
Can I Get a Witness - SonReal
Slow Dancing In the Dark - Joji (hide spoiler)]
Mod
lmao Key
Mod
(view spoiler)[
Romaris / Eliad / Falco
True Name: Windkai
Physical Age |29| Actual Age |638|
Title: Falconer
Court: Winter
Sexuality: Heteorsexual
Fae Imperfection: Whispers of the wind
Talons
Face Claim/Appearance: Francisco Lachowski
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Color: Medium Brown with light, natural highlights
Skin: A lighter shade with hints of sun
(Optional) Tattoo: Left Shoulder-The tattoo of one of his fallen eagles
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/im...
Right wrist- elvish word for friend
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7c/79/...
Between shoulder blades-the name of each bird he has lost in tiny font
(Optional) Scar: Large scars on his right shoulder from talons and then on his left arm from a broken bone that penetrated the skin
(Optional)Marking(s):
Personality:
Cold- Being cold hearted in this cold world seems fair Romaris has as much ice in his heart as the place he calls home has. He appears unfeeling and devoid of all emotions. Heartless. Beneath his mask of apathy, his emotions had a whirlwind of thoughts locked away in the dark abyss of his mind, never allowed to see the light for fear of what might happen if anyone caught wind of them. He thinks of it as a potential downfall.
Cruel- It’s getting dark in this little heart of mine Cruel to the bone, he could listen to screams for hours without being affected. His mindset is one that believes those who are in pain deserve it, whether it comes from his hand or the prince’s. Whether known to the public or not, everyone is deserving of the pain they receive and for some, they need to be reminded of that and where their place is in society.
Cunning- The cunning of the fox is as murderous as the violence of the wolf Working hard is great but working smart is better. Romaris is a very intelligent fae and because of that, he’ll take advantage of it to try and outwit anyone he decides is worth the time and challenge. He enjoys being the snake in the grass for the pure pleasure of it, except he’s supposed to be under orders.
Obedient- Be obedient even when you do not know where obedience may lead you While Romaris may have a headstrong attitude with the touch of cruelty, he is all in all devoted to the royal family, specifically his prince. Under their orders, he would do just about anything, even if he didn’t agree with it. Possibly a weakness but the trait is just who he is; Romaris would travel to the ends of the Earth for his prince.
Loyal- Loyal people still exist While this may be different from obedience, Romaris is still loyal to a fault, once again, to the royal family as well as any who can earn his trust, respect, or heart. The latter being the most difficult of all. If his loyalty is earned, he tends to abandon his questioning nature and just be purely devoted, no matter what has to be done. Summary, Romaris is an all or nothing kind of fae.
Curious- I have always had a curious nature; I enjoy learning, but I dislike being taught This trait is more inquisitive rather than the childlike innocence that is associated with being curious. Romarias has a habit about liking to know what’s going on at all times
Diligent- Focus means being diligent. Diligence always leads to wealth.
Anaylistic- Being analytical is more reasonable than being rapid in making decisions
Protective- You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now
History:
Do you hear the wind? ~0-16
Please help, I can’t do it alone ~ 17-29
[ Playlist ]
"Song Name" - "Artist Name"
(hide spoiler)]
I am about to create a map of these lands and will -when finishied- upload it here for approval, and then maybe somewhere else to make orientation easier
please don't be upset that the courts are not nearly same-sized. It is definitly not in scale :sweatsmile:
Mod
(view spoiler)[
Nelcí H. Mesmoal
the blind poet
| Age | 23 | Half-Blood |
Traveler / Author / Favors the Cold over Heat /
| Personality |
Nelcí is a kind-hearted person. She speaks in a quiet, yet beautiful voice and often describes everything in ways that awaken untouched memories and emotions. Some describe her as vulnerable and weak, seeing as how she’s small and frail. Her disability causes many bandits and thief's to target her, so without the writer who travels by her side, she’d be in a different place now.
She’s a very gentle person, always cautious and thoughtful with how she speaks and acts. In her stories, she tends to avoid public opinions of the Princes, and more so describe them as one would describe a mystical god. She tends to go around the bad-mouthed words that people use, and focus on telling their stories of how they’ve came to save humanity. Nelcí knows how to flatter others, and often uses it to gain an advantage or information. Some people go out of her way to be polite to her, or be spiteful. Due to being half Fae and half mortal, some deem her as the lowest of the low, even with her reputation of an angelic person.
She doesn’t let people knock down her dreams, let them into her mind and feed doubt and anger to her inner monsters. She’s a strong person, and has a will of iron. Never, never has she used her words to belittle another, if she were to raise her voice she will diminish herself and feel angry at the influence of her emotions.
| History |
The Mesmoal family consists of a few mortals who’ve shared simular interests in documenting the world. Thanks to this family, Fae and human alike have a bit more understanding of the land around them. Due to their lengthy notes they’ve made during their travels, scholars were able to uncover ruins of old civilizations, and find unnamed clans of few wild Fae.
One of those wild Fae was named Déllmórk, and he was the father of the quiet traveler named Nelcí.
Born in the Court of Autumn, Nelcí grew up among Fae and mortal due to her mother’s request of not traveling along side her. People treated her with such a delicate way, for she was blind. The Fae never truly were able to find ways to fix her sight, and ended up leaving her alone to the world, allowing her to wonder as she please among Fae and human, taking notes and describing the life of the court’s and their people. By the age of twenty, Nelcí had published four separate books, one dedicated to each Court. The works are told by her perspective, describing the sounds and smells, touches and feelings of what each place brought her. They are poetic and informative books, written in a way that would make it seem as if you were truly there. Of course, there was no description of color, no description of people and their looks. Rather, they are described by their voices, sounds and touch.
Currently, Nelcí is working on another set of work, and this time they mainly focus on the Autumn and Spring Court. She wants to bring more light to the.. higher-appreciated Courts. Nelcí claims that ‘those two courts hold the most of what I cannot see; but more of what I can tell.’ Which means that she’s most often found in those two courts, talking to a strange, dark Fae who writes down everything she says.
(hide spoiler)]
... bring me a dream ...
(view spoiler)[Kalypso Alfani
True Name: Nifitiri Elloywen The Winter Duchess
Physical Age: 21 | Actual Age: 6000
Type of Fae: Nymph Fairy
Title: Lady/ "duchess"
Court: Winter
DOB:
Sexuality: Female
Fae Imperfection: Her eyes have no iris to distinguish any sort of emotions, thus causing her fae form to be slightly terrifying
Human Appearance
Fae Appearance
This form is drenched from the finest crowns that are placed to tame the unruliest of ashen white hair(Optional) Tattoo:
(Optional) Scar:
(Optional)Marking(s):
Personality:
History:
[ Playlist ]
"Song Name" - "Artist Name" (hide spoiler)]
Tali(view spoiler)[
Name: Tali Hadara Melamed
Nicknames:
True Name: Ysgawyn
Physical Age: 17
Actual Age: 868
Gender: F
Species: Fae
Court: Autumn
Appearance:
Personality:
Family:
Father: Malkiel Melamed
Mother: Adira Melamed
Brother: Ari Melamed
Brother: Tevya Melamed
Brother: Issachar Melamed
Brother: Tanchum Melamed
Sister: Eliana Melamed
Brother: Menashe Melamed
History:
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
Aidoneus
(view spoiler)[
Name: Aidoneus Rusor Helenus
Nicknames:
True Name: Erebus
Physical Age: 23
Actual Age: 1, 642
Gender: M
Species: Fae
Court: Winter
Appearance:
Personality:
Family:
Father: Thersander Helenus
Mother: Hemithea Helenus
Brother: Rachamim Helenus
Sister: Thadira Helenus
History:
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
Thing One(view spoiler)[
Template made by the lovely fiend
(hide spoiler)]S E R A P H I N A D H A Y
ynlsanmi dharsii
[ p ] ersonality
-quiet
-bit shy
-very sweet
-generous
-perhaps not the brightest
--not stupid, just definitely has a shielded view of the world and id a bit ignorant as a result
-not very trusting
appearance description, including true fan appearance
[ p ] erhaps it's obvious when you look at her, but Seraphina is not a true Winter Fae. It is the court she resides in, but her father is actually from Spring. Her mother was very wealthy and influential, but perhaps bored with her standing. She had a couple flings, one with an autumn fae, and one with a spring. It resulted in an uncommon phenomenon: superfecundation. Each father fertilized an egg around the same time, creating a pair of twins with different fathers.
However, their mother never wanted children, and she knew how it would look to have two children with different parents, not to mention from a different court than her own. She claimed the girls belonged to one of the human slaves she had, and the human staff were the ones to raise the baby girls. They grew up knowing the truth, but adoring the humans that cared for them. After all, their mother gave them little attention, and what she did was not positive.
However, as they grew older, it became more and more difficult to hide the fact that the children were pure fae. Eventually, the truth came out. Everyone lost respect for their mother, and she blamed it on her children, taking it out on them. The human staff did their best to defend the children they had grown so attached to, but what were they to do against an angry fae?
Eventually, the poor treatment of her children became public, Phaedra's father took custody, and Seraphina's mother was banished from the courts. After all, even Winter couldn't seem like they condoned that. Unfortunately, Sera didn't have someone to look out for her, like her sister did. With her quite obviously spring imperfections, she didn't fit in with the others. The humans raised her, helped her learn how to be her own person.
She inherited her mother's wealth, but she still doesn't fit in. To Winter, she is an unpleasant reminder of one of their own's betrayal, and a potential spring spy in their midst. Without any evidence to act on, she remains part of Winter, simply shunned and judged for her marks and parentage.family : mother - banished ; father - unknown ; sister - phaedra
friends : open
infatuations : open
Thing Two(view spoiler)[
Template made by the lovely fiend
(hide spoiler)]tyrslori dharsii
[ p ] ersonality
-take no shit
-give no fucks
-fierce
-very strong willed
-WILL get what she wants
-half of court hates her and half of court loves her
--pretty much younger ones love older ones hate
-she WILL tell the old windbag he's being stupid and not thinking
-she WILL flip you off if you're rude to her
-she WILL tell you to go fuck yourself and perhaps punch you if you're rude to the humans
-she used to be the little guy so ofc she stands up for the little guy now that she's in a position to do so
appearance description, including true fan appearance
[ i ] t may be not obvious to look at her, but Phaedra isn't pure autumn fae. It is the court she resides in, but her mother is actually from Winter. She was very wealthy and influential, but perhaps bored with her standing. She had a couple flings, one with an autumn fae, and one with a spring. It resulted in an uncommon phenomenon: superfecundation. Each father fertilized an egg around the same time, creating a pair of twins with different fathers.
However, their mother never wanted children, and she knew how it would look to have two children with different parents, not to mention from a different court than her own. She claimed the girls belonged to one of the human slaves she had, and the human staff were the ones to raise the baby girls. They grew up knowing the truth, but adoring the humans that cared for them. After all, their mother gave them little attention, and what she did was not positive.
However, as they grew older, it became more and more difficult to hide the fact that the children were pure fae. Eventually, the truth came out. Everyone lost respect for their mother, and she blamed it on her children, taking it out on them. The human staff did their best to defend the children they had grown so attached to, but what were they to do against an angry fae?
However, Phaedra's father hadn't known he had a daughter before now, and he wanted custody of her. It was terrible to be ripped from her twin, but Phaedra's father knew he had to help her escape from the situation. When he tried to get Seraphina as well, their mother resisted, purely out of spite, and he had no standing to take her. Of course, claiming a daughter from a different mother caused a falling-out with his wife, but he stepped up for his daughter. He still is a good father to Phaedra's half brother, his son with his ex-wife. He did his best to be a good father, and Phaedra grew up a good daughter, taking her place as a lady in courts.family : mother - banished ; father - alive ; sister - seraphina ; half brother - open
friends : open
infatuations : open
Mod
(view spoiler)[
| Salana | Larique | Last Name | "The Old One" | "Timeless" |
| any age - mainly sticks to 16 | true age is unknown | can appear to be any age | seems to be older then the Queen herself |
| Face Claim | Kristine Froseth |
| Additional Appearances |
"Inset Image"
| Fae Imperfection |
good question
| Biography |
"Insert Info"
| Personality |
Upon first meeting name, one would see little else than an aggressive, arrogant young women with too short of a fuse. She would cast scornful glares and often ignore others' warnings and greetings, showing little interest in social activities. She also has little to call a "moral filter", not ever one to hold back her opinions or lie, no matter how mean or blunt her words may be. This scowling fae just appears to be a jerk to everyone - rich, poor, fae, human... That is, until you manage to get past her natural anger. For you see, name is plagued by wrath like a fire, unable to quell her rage for more than small periods of time. This is not entirely her fault. Although she is slow to trust and slower to show kindness, she is not necessarily a bad person. She totally strives to improve himself, aiming to cripple criminals and scare the hell out of those who think they can abuse the innocent. More so, name has a soft spot for women and children, often showing slightly more patience with them. name is a bit of a hardass, not one to take nonsense or mischief from anybody without them losing a limb. Unlike the norm of fae, she has quite the temper, typically being pissed off or ignoring those she cares not for. Do not mistake her aggression for selfishness as she is truthfully, horrendously loyal to those she takes a liking to. While it rarely ever happens, name can be gentle when she needs to be, showing an overprotective instinct when dealing with the young and an almost passionate chivalry towards human and women. Overall, she is quite straightforward and stalwart in her beliefs, never one to sit around and wait for a problem to get fixed on its own. In short, name is a passionate, aggressive soul with righteous ideals, a huge heart, and a raging soul.
| Miscellaneous Information |
"Insert Info"
| Playlist |
"Insert Song" - "Insert Artist"
"Insert Song" - "Insert Artist"
"Insert Song" - "Insert Artist"
"Insert Song" - "Insert Artist"
"Insert Song" - "Insert Artist" (hide spoiler)]
Mod
(view spoiler)[
| Auxilium | Perniciosa | Maris | "Alie" | Sea Fae Princess |
| Physical Age | twenty | Actual Age | a good two thousand years old |
| Face Claim |
"Insert Image"
| Additional Appearances |
"Inset Image"
| Biography |
"Insert Info"
| Personality |
Being pressed into the mold of the stereotypical bookworm, Name leans on the less extroverted lifestyle, preferring to be quieter and less extreme. She's docile in most cases, not wanting to cause too much trouble as she finds it easier to please people rather than oppose them. Her running lack of self-worth also tends to kick in at times, but don't take her too lightly. Even with her own demons, Name isn't afraid to defend someone else. Often putting others over herself, she does her best to be supportive and helpful to her family, and others. Optimism and kindness, though hard to stick by constantly, are what she tries to do and be frequently. A smile a day could be the determining factor in someone's life.
| Miscellaneous Information |
"Insert Info"
| Playlist |
"Insert Song" - "Insert Artist" (hide spoiler)]
Mod
(view spoiler)[
I'm touching up Connall, my beautiful villain
fc:Eduard Badaluta
| Connall | Salvaterre | The Spring Prince |
| True Name | Gadfly |
| Physical Age | 23 | Real Age | Older than the Courts |
| Fae Imperfection |
Connall has completely golden pupils and irises, immediately informing everyone of who he is.
| Biography |
Connall was born in the time before courts, before there ever was a Queen. When the fae were wilder, completely untamed. When only the strongest could survive, and those who were weak fell like flies. He saw the wild fae and he thought they needed to be reined in. For the wild fae to come together, to grow strong together. Four others shared his view, together they were the strongest fae to ever walk the lands that would become their Courts. They fought against the wild fae, binding their magic to theirs and forming the Courts. His childhood was filled with anarchy and chaos, he was born into it. It was his birthright. He hardly knew his mother or his father, some wild fae who had no patience for children. His mother abandoned Connall and his half brother Vex before he could hardly walk. A wandering troupe of wild fae found them in the woods wandering aimlessly. The wild fae took them in, gave them what could be considered a home. Connall was a wild child and nothing could tame the eventual prince of spring. The troupe was filled with all kinds of strange and disturbing fae and Connall fit in, they taught him tricks and illusions to perform with them. The wild fae were a carnival of sorts, drifting from town to town performing for immortal and mortal alike.
Connall had a gift with animals, he trained the great beasts of the land to perform for the people. Lions would follow at his heels like he was one of their own, snarling at any who dared to approach the future prince of spring. Connall always had a soft spot for cats of any shape and size, and they seemed to have a soft spot for him. Of course a connection with the feline families wasn’t all that set him aside from most fae. Connall radiated with the old power of the last of the ancient fae, he was the last of the ancient fae born into this world. He was the last of a dying breed but he didn’t care, or at least not yet. The world was filled with chaos, the wild fae were scattered with no Queen or King to unite them. Connall looked upon the chaos of the wild fae with disgust. It was a new age and the world had no place for chaos. He saw an opportunity for himself, for the power he craved so dearly. She shared his idea for fae courts with his brother, to reunite their people. He wanted to bind the magic of each season to four fae Princes, for the chaos to be reined in. For the wild fae to kneel before a ruler once again. He and his brother searched the land for others as strong as them who would help them bind the wild fae to the courts.
At that time magic had been stronger and the fae no longer hold the power they once did in those times. Connall formed the Spring Court with his magic and those he had bound to him. He laid claim to the birth of the seasons, the powers of spring became his. When he and the others Princes were forming their lands they needed a catalyst to hold the power of all the courts. A fae strong enough to bind the courts to her will. She was the first Queen of the Faerie and last, or at least Connall hopes she was the last. She was a stranger from across the sea, a remnant of an ancient fae kingdom. Her magic was strong enough to act as a catalyst for the other princes' power. Of course Connall would curse the day they performed the binding. For he didn't know that he would be bound to her for eternity when she helped the Princes form the Courts. He never guessed that she would continue to wield the powers of each court. He and the other Princes ruled under her for countless millennia, yoked by her power. They served her.
He has his fellow Princes strained under her rule, wishing to be free again. Now many assume she was a terrible Queen and that's why the Princes revolted. A lie. She was as kind as any Faerie could be, and she served her people well. Yet the princes wanted more than just a semblance of control in their courts, they wanted complete and utter power. The gathered together and plotted against the Queen, eventually coming to the Queen together with a gift. They had made a sweet wine from the summer courts fields, and they had laced it with iron. When the Queen drank the wine Connall remembers vaguely that she had looked to him for help as she lay dying. Not quite believing that he had turned against her. He had only turned away, his greed completely taking him over. He's never lied about that day though, not once. Though few ask him. He killed the Queen for himself and no other.
Connall ruled his court after the death of his Queen with an almost indifferent position. His court is his and no others, and no one should ever doubt that. Those who strain against his rule are taken care off swiftly and without empathy, a feeling faerie have no need off. He keeps his court safe, no one would doubt that. His court is as beautiful as it is harsh.
Hundreds of years after the Queen had died Connall felt as if he was finally free. Then something happened to him, something that he never wanted but got none the less. He fell in love. A love that almost burned him to ashes. Her name had been Isabelle, a painter. He visited her a thousand times, each time under the guise that he wanted another portrait made. Only so that he could be in the same room as her, to laugh with her, to hear her sing. He hardly even knew he loved her, fae rarely fall in love and he had never loved anything but himself before her. At times he thought she might love him back, a thought he held onto long after she had passed away. She meant everything to him, he would've burned every court to the ground for her, but she never asked anything of him. Only asked what enchantment he offered as payment for her paintings. He loved her so much that he didn't notice her aging, days for him were months for her. Then one day he came to her house, and found she had passed away in her sleep. She had married years ago her children greeted the Prince. He had been there for most of their lives. It was the only time the Spring Prince cried, the only time he really felt grief and loss. He took the ring that had often adorned her fingers when he visited since she hadn't been more that twenty. The only part of her he'd be able to keep with him.
| Personality |
Like all fae Connal tends to put on a semblance of human emotion, wearing it like one would a masquerade mask. He'll play at love, at anger, at grief, and sorrow. He never feels it though, or at least he pretends he never does. Though he never plays at love. He doesn't trust love, not after the only one he ever loved had passed on without ever truly knowing his love for her. No, that is an emotion he never wishes to feel again. He locked his heart up long ago, never would he make the same mistake. He wears a simple silver ring on a cord around his neck as a reminder of what love does to an immortal. Connall is the epitome of faerie arrogance, the Spring Prince bows to no one. His throne and his court are all that matter to him now, and he will do anything to protect what is his. Never again will he bow to another Queen or King, he is the Spring Prince and those you stand against him would be wise to remember that. He doesn't trust the other princes, they all had turned against their Queen. What would stop them from turning against him? The whispers of a new Queen of the Faerie, have made his paranoia about losing his throne even worse. He has sent out his wild hunt more times in recent years than he has in a hundred, to find the Queen. No will take his throne from him. He’s desperate to hold on to what he has left and he doesn’t even know how far he is willing to go to keep what is his. He worries his people will turn against him, that his court will never truly be his, that his power is not truly his. He will sacrifice what he must and he will do it without remorse, his paranoia is dangerous and he tends to shift moods quickly, a burst of anger quickly followed by disgust. He doesn't fully trust anyone anymore, not even his own brother and especially his fellow princes. They were just as ready as him to murder and kill their way to where they are now. He is so utterly alone, and it weighs on him more than anything. He’s locked himself in his manor of roses, venturing out rarely and only for short periods of time. No one is allowed to enter his presence unless he so desires it. His court flocks around him, trying to ease their prince's mind yet nothing seems to work.
| Playlist |
Nina Cried Power - Hozier, Mavis Staples
In the woods somewhere - Hozier
Love and War - Fleurie
Young as the Mountains, Young as the Sea - Passenger
The Woods - Hollow Coves
Hello My Old Heart - Oh Hello
Pass Them By - Anges Obel (hide spoiler)]
Mod
(hide spoiler)]
ARIELLA MORRIGAN ━ female, fae, fire wielder ━ QUEEN'S HEIR
Personality | Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit loremi eiusmodus tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Elit aliqua ar minimumit veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip il laboris ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit irv nisi voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint, cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id este.
History | Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, lorem aivi eiusmodus tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Elit aliqua ar minimumit veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip il laboris ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit irv nisi voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint, cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id este.
Extras | (view spoiler)[ "I will burn your kingdom if you try to conquer me and mine." ]
Face Claim | (view spoiler)[ ♕ ♕ ♕ ]
[image error] [image error]
Ksenia Solo | Brown hair, brown eyes, I suck at character descriptions.
(hide spoiler)]
Relationships | [ ♕ ♕ ♕ ]
+ Insert name here: the plus sign denotes a good relationship
+ Insert name here: the plus sign denotes a good relationship
− Insert name here: the minus sign denotes a bad relationship
− Insert name here: the minus sign denotes a bad relationship
Playlist | ♕ Me and Mine by The Brothers Bright ♕ x ♕ x ♕ (hide spoiler)]
Herbie E. Starnes(view spoiler)[
Name: Herbert Ellis Starnes
Nicknames: Herbie, Yoyo
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Appearance: Herbie is a grubby, short urchin who reeks of filth. His foul stench drives others away, if his dirty clothes and weaselly nature hadn't already. He is clearly malnourished. Even at the age of 14, he hasn't grown past 5'2 and his bones jut out sickeningly. The only parts of him that aren't horribly skinny are his biceps, those particular muscles being defined from all of his climbing. Most of him is swallowed up by his baggy clothing, and he requires suspenders or some sort of belt to keep his trousers around his waist. Herbie always carries around a bright red yoyo, which he either hits people with or mesmerizes them with his tricks, if they're not grossed out enough to stay far away.
Herbie's hair is mostly covered by his black and white plaid ivy cap, though the hat is more brown now than any other color. Greasy, dark brown hair crawls down the nape of his neck and sticks out around his ears. When it's clean - which is almost never - his locks form nice curls, but otherwise they're weighed down by the oil. If he ever runs his hand through his hair, his skin comes away moist from all the oils and grease. Herbie knows better than to do that now. There is no style or order to his hair; everything either sticks straight down to the ground or gets mashed against his head permanently whether he wears his cap or not. His oval face hasn't lost as much fat as his torso has, but his cheekbones do protrude more and more as the years go on. His skin is tanned lightly except for his narrow nose, which is always sunburnt to a painful red. Ever since he broke it, there's been an unnatural indent at the bridge of his nose and it occasionally still swells up if he messes with it. An abundance of freckles sits on and under his cheekbones. Sometimes they aren't visible because of the grime that sticks to his face, or the bruises that occasionally announce themselves there. Herbie has dark eyebrows that furrow over his large, hazel eyes. His eyes are equally as gross as his hair. They're a cross between the color of wet sand, moths, and seaweed. His eyelashes are quite long and nice though, except he's always rubbing at them when his lashes fall into his eyes - and that happens at least once a day, if not more. Herbie's jaw is very smooth, but not because he shaves. In fact, he doesn't even have to shave. He just can't grow any sort of facial hair whatsoever, not even whiskers.
Besides his figure being very gaunt, he's also covered head to toe in bruises, dirt, and sweat. His stench surrounds him like a cloud, and his body appears poorly cared for. He has a small scar just below the inner corner of his left eye, as well as another long, diagonal scar on his hairline. His arms have the most scars though. He has one or two on his biceps, then several more on his forearms. His bruises are also mostly on his forearms, often swelling up to large, purple and brown areas. Among the callouses on his feet and hands, Herbie usually has several cuts and scratches on them too. His feet get torn up very easily from walking everywhere without shoes, and his hands get torn up from climbing things.
He only has one outfit, which means it's rarely washed. In fact, he scrounged it up from the garbage, so it was never clean to begin with. The brown trousers he has are far too large for him. The bottom of the pants are very scuffed up and the fabric is tearing apart, but he always rolls them up so they don't drag on the ground. He wears a dark green, button-down shirt with the sleeves folded up above his elbow, and he also adds brown suspenders to hold up the pants. They're probably the only thing keeping his pants up since he doesn't really fill any of it out. He doesn't own any shoes or socks. And of course, he's never without his ivy cap or his yoyo.
Personality:
Family:
Father: Hobart Starnes
Mother: Monica Starnes
History: Herbie never knew his parents. Instead, he was raised in an orphanage where the only thing anyone knew about his identity was that his name was Herbie. He possessed no knowledge of his middle name or last name, or of who his parents were. He didn’t even know that Herbie was short for Herbert. And most of the time, the other boys at the orphanage just addressed him as Yoyo since he always carried a red yoyo with him.
Life at the orphanage was tolerable. He slept on the concrete floor with nothing but a scratchy blanket - which he used as a pillow - in a room filled with other boys of all ages. The meals consisted mostly of thin soups. He also consumed a lot of potatoes. Their diet rarely included any sort of meat or fresh vegetables. They had no changes of clothes, and if they wanted to bathe, they could do so in a muddy lake. So from early on he became accustomed to the harsh hunger, stench, and discomfort.
The woman who ran the orphanage, Mary, assumed the role as the children’s honorary mother. She taught them all how to sew, garden, and cook. Some days she’d have guests to teach the older kids pottery and carpentry. Unfortunately, they never kept anything they created. Rather, they sold it, and used the cash to feed the children and pay for their home. Money was always tight, although most of the kids never really thought about it and thus never complained. And most of the older children focused on teaching and caring for the younger ones. Mary desired for them to be self-sufficient, to one day climb out of poverty with the skills she taught them.
Despite the hope she offered them, the spirits of the children always seemed dark. Oftentimes, those at the orphanage died of sickness or malnourishment. Some of the kids had been previously abused by a former guardian. Mary’s home was one of the kindest places to be in the area.
Herbie mainly grew up with the other boy close to his age, Harrison. The two spent their days goofing around, and neither sat still long enough to learn anything that Mary tried to teach. Really, the only thing Herbie became proficient in was gardening. He always retired to bed covered in the dirt that he worked with, unless he and Harry were allowed to run down to the lake before bed. In his free time, Herbie played with his yoyo. He’d found it on the side of the road when he was five years old, and since then always tucked it into one of his pockets. He eventually learned how to do a few tricks with it. Mary once commented that the yoyo gave him something to do with his hands, which he desperately needed.
The orphanage fell apart when he was eight years old. Mary had been shot in the street by a robber, and the children slowly all moved on. The older ones attempted to keep the home running, but without Mary, nobody really stayed.
Herbie and Harry set off on their own. At first, the boys tried to earn a living by gardening. However, even if they managed to find and plant a few seeds, the crops were usually destroyed. To quench their hunger, they began stealing things. Their many failures brought them harsh beatings, but soon their skill increased. Herbie’s favorite way to thieve was to sit on the ledge with his yoyo and knock some innocent passerby below in the head with it. When it provoked an angry reaction, Harry would sneak up behind them and snag whatever coins they had in their wallet. At the end of the day, they’d usually stolen enough money to buy themselves a meager dinner. Even with that dinner in their bellies, they often dug through other people’s trash for items of food still in their containers, or clothing, or other useful items.
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
Harrison E. Wright(view spoiler)[
Name: Harrison Ebenezer Wright
Nicknames: Squeak
Age: 13
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Appearance:
Personality:
Family:
Father: Hugh Wright
Mother: Dorothy Maines
History:
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
Evangeline L. Herndon(view spoiler)[
Name: Evangeline Lois Herndon
True Name: Perline
Nicknames: Eva, Ange, Anne
Physical Age: 15
Actual Age:
Gender: Female
Species: Fae
Appearance:
Personality:
Family:
Parents: Zephaniah and Eleanor Herndon
Siblings: Louis Rothenstein Herndon, Asa Nathaniel Herndon
History:
Other:
(hide spoiler)]
Mod
(view spoiler)[
“It was the Heir that tore him from his throne, but it was not her that unleashed his fury. It was that long dead golden face that had led him down this path, and it was her olive green eyes that solidified his fate. How was he to know of the songs poets would sing of his rage? Of the innumerable men who would meet their end in his fiery vengeance. How was he to know that love would break him over and over again? They should’ve known their deaths would bring about his own. He wept - and his own heart, spring itself heard his cries. He wept - bloodied his face, tore at his hair, and wished for death. Eternal life was not worth the price he paid, it was not worth their lives. Oh Isabella, Oh Elias. What was he to do with his heart, burn it in his own self loathing, tear it from his chest? He was a golden prince, a figure that the fea will never see again. Some say it was the vengeance of the Heir that drove him to his death. They are wrong. He was a golden prince, but he was not without weakness. He fell to that great mortal weakness, love. They would’ve followed him anywhere, even to death. You must realize he would do the same.”
| Connall | Salvaterre | The Spring Prince |
| True Name | Gadfly |
| Physical Age | 23 | Real Age | Older than the Courts |
| Face Claim | Eduard Badaluta |
| Fae Imperfection |
Connall has completely golden pupils and irises, immediately informing everyone of who he is.
| Biography |
Connall was born in the time before courts, before there ever was a Queen. When the fae were wilder, completely untamed. When only the strongest could survive, and those who were weak fell like flies. He saw the wild fae and he thought they needed to be reined in. For the wild fae to come together, to grow strong together. Four others shared his view, together they were the strongest fae to ever walk the lands that would become their Courts. They fought against the wild fae, binding their magic to theirs and forming the Courts.
His childhood was filled with anarchy and chaos, he was born into it. It was his birthright. He hardly knew his mother or his father, some wild fae who had no patience for children. His mother abandoned Connall and his half brother Vex before he could hardly walk. A wandering troupe of wild fae found them in the woods wandering aimlessly. The wild fae took them in, gave them what could be considered a home. Connall was a wild child and nothing could tame the eventual prince of spring. The troupe was filled with all kinds of strange and disturbing fae and Connall fit in, they taught him tricks and illusions to perform with them. The wild fae were a carnival of sorts, drifting from town to town performing for immortal and mortal alike.
Connall had a gift with animals, he trained the great beasts of the land to perform for the people. Lions would follow at his heels like he was one of their own, snarling at any who dared to approach the future prince of spring. Connall always had a soft spot for cats of any shape and size, and they seemed to return his affection. Of course a connection with the feline families wasn’t all that set him aside from most fae. Connall radiated with the old power of the last of the ancient fae, he was the last born of the ancient fae born into this world. He was the last of a dying breed but he didn’t care, or at least not yet, faerie arrogance blinded him. His world was filled with chaos, the wild fae were scattered with no Queen or King to unite them as magic began to seep from the world. These fae had been without vision for eternity. Connall looked upon the chaos of the wild fae with disgust. It was a new age and the world had no place for this manner of chaos. He saw an opportunity for himself, for the power he craved so dearly. He went and shared his idea for fae courts with his brother, to reunite their people. He wanted to bind the magic of each season to four fae Princes, for the chaos to be reined in. For the wild fae to kneel before a ruler once again. He and his brother searched the land for others as strong as them who would help them bind the wild fae to the courts.
At that time magic had been stronger and the fae no longer hold the power they once did in those times. Connall formed the Spring Court with his magic and those he had bound to him. He laid claim to the birth of the seasons, spring incarnate. While he and the other Princes were forming their lands it became abundantly clear that they needed a catalyst to hold the power of all the courts. A fae strong enough to bind the courts to her will. The princes did not trust each other enough to give this power to any of them. So they searched for a fea of power, one that could rule with them. She was the first Queen of the Faerie and last, or at least Connall hopes she was the last. Her blood can claim the throne she once sat upon, there is power in blood. The Queen, whose name is lost to time, was a stranger from across the sea, a remnant of an ancient fae kingdom. Her magic was strong enough to act as a catalyst for the other princes' power. Of course Connall would curse the day they performed the binding. For he didn't know that he would be bound to her for eternity when she helped the Princes form the Courts. They had intended to cut her off from their magic once the binding was complete. The Queen had been cunning, intertwining her own power to deep into each of them so that she could never be rooted out. Connall had been furious, and yet he could do nothing. He and the other Princes were forced to rule under her for countless millennia, yoked by her power. They served her, waiting at her beck and call.
The Princes strained under her rule, wishing to be free again. Now many assume she was a terrible Queen and that's why the Princes revolted. A lie. She was as kind as any Faerie could be, and she served her people well. Yet the princes wanted more than just a semblance of control in their courts. The four wanted the complete and utter power that had been promised them so many centuries ago. They gathered together and plotted against the Queen, eventually coming to the Queen together with a gift. They had made a sweet wine from the summer courts fields, laced with iron. When the Queen drank the wine Connall remembers vaguely that she had looked to him for help as she lay dying. Not quite believing that he had turned against her. He had only closed his eyes, his greed completely taking him over. He's never lied about that day though, not once. Though few ask him. He killed the Queen for himself and no other.
Connall was left empty after the death of his queen, her power that was still rooted into his heart slowly ate at him over the centuries. He was weaker, as were the other princes. They had cut away some of their own power with her death, wounding themselves with the queen's death.
Hundreds of years after the Queen had died Connall felt as if he was finally free. Then something happened to him, something that he never wanted but got none the less. He fell in love. A love that almost burned him to ashes. His name had been Elias, a painter with hair as dark as a night sky and skin as golden as the sun. He visited Elias a thousand times, each time under the guise that he wanted another portrait made. He claimed each time that the last had not captured his likeness as well as he would have liked. For years he did this, loving him from afar, only so that he could be in the same room as him, to laugh with him, to hear that beautiful voice sing. He hardly even knew he loved Elias, fae rarely fell in love and he had never loved anything but himself before him. He never stopped coming, always managing to secure an appointment with the young painter. Elias often asked him why he always came back instead of seeking out another painter. In that moment Connall found himself the closest he would ever come to knowing his own heart. He loved this beautiful mortal and that terrified him.
There were even times he thought Elias might love him back, a thought he held onto long after he had passed away. He meant everything to him, he would've burned every court to the ground for him, but Elias never asked anything of him. Only what payment Connall would offer for his paintings. He loved Elias with such a tenderness that he didn't notice him aging, minutes for him were months for her. Then one day he came to her house, and found she had passed away in her sleep. He had married years before, breaking the prince's heart. Hischildren greeted the Prince for they had known him all their life. It was the only time the Spring Prince cried, the only time he really felt grief and loss. He stole the ring that had often adorned Elias’ fingers when he visited since he had first laid eyes on him, sliding it onto his pale cold fingers as the only tears he had ever shed poured down his pale face. The only part of Elias he'd be able to keep with him.
| Personality |
Like all fae Connal tends to put on a semblance of human emotion, wearing it like one would a masquerade mask. He'll play at love, at anger, at grief, and sorrow. He never feels it though, or at least he pretends he never does. Though he never plays at love. He doesn't trust love, not after the only one he ever loved had passed on without ever truly knowing his love for her. No, that is an emotion he never wishes to feel again. He locked his heart up long ago, never would he make the same mistake. He wears a simple silver ring on a cord around his neck as a reminder of what love does to an immortal. Connall is the epitome of faerie arrogance, the Spring Prince bows to no one. His throne and his court are all that matter to him now, and he will do anything to protect what is his. Never again will he bow to another Queen or King, he is the Spring Prince and those you stand against him would be wise to remember that.
He doesn't trust the other princes, they all turned against their Queen. What would stop them from turning against him? The whispers of a new Queen of the Faerie, have made his paranoia about losing his throne even worse. He has sent out his wild hunt more times in recent years than he has in a hundred, to find the Queen. No will take his throne from him. He’s desperate to hold on to what he has left and he doesn’t even know how far he is willing to go to keep what is his.
He worries his people will turn against him, that his court will never truly be his, that his power is not truly his. He will sacrifice what he must and he will do it without remorse, his paranoia is dangerous and he tends to shift moods quickly, a burst of anger quickly followed by disgust. He doesn't fully trust anyone anymore, not even his own brother and especially his fellow princes. They were just as ready as him to murder and kill their way to where they are now. He is so utterly alone, and it weighs on him more than anything. He’s locked himself in his manor of roses, venturing out rarely and only for short periods of time. No one is allowed to enter his presence unless he so desires it. His court flocks around him, trying to ease their prince's mind yet nothing seems to work.
The Spring Prince is both as cold as the nights in early spring and as warm as a ray of sunshine hitting a rose bud. He is as quick to anger as he is to joy, which he hides centuries of loss and grief. His heart is in so many shattered fragments that few would be able to find the patience to peice him back together. He is ancient, the scars he bears deep and long.
| Playlist |
Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths
Plenty - aeseaes
Young as the Mountains, Young as the Sea - Passenger
We have it all - Pim Stones
Hello My Old Heart - Oh Hello (hide spoiler)]
