sleepingsputnik

[sleepingsputnik]

Ame Shindou

Florist. Eighteen. Cleric.

BORNApril, xxxxBIRTHPLACETokyoHEIGHT167 centimetresWEIGHT45 kilogramsHAIRBrown, worn straight with bangs.EYESBlue greenABILITIES Domestic chores, flower care, ikebana.

A quiet florist in a small flower shop. Silent and unassuming, at times her eyes seem like they do not see. Her steps are quiet, as if the ground beneath her is not to be trusted. Her voice is soft, low, as if her words are meant to be heard only by the winds; seem to be borrowed from someone else.

Ame-onna. That's what they call her, the mean ones. They associate her with bad luck. How can they not be. One way or another, her family members are all dead in freak accidents involving rain, leaving her one by one until there is only one left. She is starting to believe them, the thin girl fragile as glass sculpture, with bones like trophies wrapped in silk.

[sleepingsputnik]

Akira

Anything. Any age. Any class.

BORNNovember, xxxxBIRTHPLACExxxHEIGHT175 centimetresWEIGHT49 kilogramsHAIRBlack, worn straight with bangs.EYESDependsABILITIES Depends on who she is at the time.

A character that appears anywhere, anytime she wants.

[sleepingsputnik]

Euphemia Templin

Teahouse owner. Late twenties. Fighter.

BORNApril, xxxxBIRTHPLACEHyoHEIGHT168 centimetresWEIGHT45 kilogramsHAIRBlack, worn wavy and long. Silken and well-cared.EYESBlack.ABILITIESBrewing tea, baking, singing, playing musical instruments. And now Euphemia can shoot a gun, because life is funny that way.

Euphemia Templin is the wife of Oliver Templin. (That was, until he disappeared without a trace.) She owns a teahouse. (Not that kind. But perhaps, if you say the right word; if you have powers willed into your fingertips.) In the house, everything is Chinese and porcelain. (Including her.) In the house, they used to call her madamé. 
(The e is never silent.) 

She drifted in her soft billowy dress among the tables. Making small talks; pouring tea into empty cups. Lighting up the whole room. Sometimes she would sing, but only briefly. A shy little bird. The patrons loved her.  She (and her girls) were the sight to see as ma ti gao melted in their mouths. Bai tang sha weng, ham sui gok left grease on their lips, but it always left them longing for more. Aching for their next visit.  But how their mood would darken when they saw her husband. Oliver Templin was all posture and height. Blonde and blue-eyed. Boyish and handsome. Friendly and cheerful A force to be recokned with; until he disappeared. 

[sleepingsputnik]

Luka Killian

Lords Alliance Knight. Twenty seven. Battlemaster.

BORNUnknownBIRTHPLACEShoHEIGHT180 centimetresWEIGHT70 kilogramsHAIRBlue.EYESYellow.ABILITIESFighting, making love (yes really).

His name was not his real name. It was not the name that was given to him at birth. At one time in his life had chosen his own name, picked them randomly out of so many names in the world, not caring about the meaning.

He used to have parents; two prominent political figures in his country who were loved but also fiercely hated, because they were minority. They had logical ideas, spoke with wisdom and sense; but logic was not what’s welcomed. Hatred is easier. Hatred goes a long way. Even long before his fierce understanding of the world they had already warned him: if something happens to us, leave. Change your name. Hide your face. Forget where you came from. Forget the name we gave you. Forget us. His parents had often repeated it to him. Like a song; in place of a bedtime story.

A precaution; or was it a premonition? He couldn’t tell which. The night his house burned down, he ran without looking back; ran all the way until his legs gave away and fatigue took hold of him.

For a while, life after that was mostly a blur. He didn’t remember how he survived but remember how he had worked hard, had done everything he could to survive. He’d begged out on the streets, ate out of garbage cans sometimes. Taste of half rotten food in his mouth. He’d learned to endure, to convince himself he wasn’t cold, pretend he wasn’t in pain. Eventually someone took him in, out of pity, but also out of the fact that he was beautiful even with his dirtied face, his rough hands. He had strong jaws and beautiful eyes; quiet eyes that lured you to tell you all of your secrets, just so you could see some type of change.

He rarely spoke. He pretended he had forgotten who he was even when dreams of fire woke him up at night. He told no one anything, didn’t know the reason for half of the things he was doing. He pushed on, simply because he hadn’t died and there was nothing else to do.

In that way, he met Sildar. Or more accurately, Sildar found him; thin with wounds and bruises, stained with something dark that people had left inside of him. Maybe somehow Sildar had known, just by looking at him. Or maybe because it had been far too obvious; the things that would happen to a lone boy with such a pretty face. Only he himself had failed to notice.

In that condition, Sildar took him in as an apprentice but he treated him more like a son. The man fed him, gave him a place to live. It was more than enough. He grew up with a clear, unwavering loyalty to Sildar.

He travels now but he sends letters to Sildar whenever he can. He wants whatever part of his life to be a little useful to the man, if nothing else.

[sleepingsputnik]

Lau Kin-hei

Politician's son. Thirty one. Rogue.

BORNNovember, xxxxBIRTHPLACEHongkongHEIGHT178 centimetresWEIGHT67 kilogramsHAIRBlack.EYESBlack.ABILITIESSleeping around, spending money, picking out real branded items from the fakes, choosing sports car.

TW: suicide attempt

The youngest son of a big name politician in Hong Kong. The black sheep of the family, he is well known as a playboy who sleeps around with women (and, rumour has it, men). At 31, he is officially known a staff in his father's campaign, but he is barely there. Instead: he drives a Maserati around the city with different women every week, is spotted often in Hong Kong exclusive nightclubs, doing god knows what. Lately though, his name hasn't appeared on gossip tabloids for quite some time. Who knows where he is and what he's been doing.

He tried to kill himself once -- when his bodyguard (childhood friend) was killed. (His father's influence helped to cover both the incident and his suicide attempt.) He was in the middle of recovery when the gate opened up before him. (Finally, he thought at the time, mistaking the door as something like death.) He's been traveling the multiverse ever since, out of sheer boredom and pure curiosity of a life outside the boundaries of his own world -- and a hope that he would somehow see him in one of the possible worlds.

[sleepingsputnik]

Shin Ah

Knight. Twenty. Eldritch knight.

BORNApril, xxxxBIRTHPLACEKinjiHEIGHT175 centimetresWEIGHT70 kilogramsHAIRBrown.EYESBrown.ABILITIESFighting, farming, riding giant insects.

A farmer-born knight from a small island near Kinji. He spent his childhood riding giant insects and helping his parents in the field; was only 10 when his knees were slashed by an empire soldier. The recovery was long and gruesome. Even years later, his injured knees are what often slow him down -- with the excruciating pain coming to him every now and then, forcing him to submit to its force. But this did not stop him from joining the newly established knighthood of his island -- and becoming one of the best knights on the island.

His knightly order -- The Order of the Beetle -- is famous for being made up of former farmers and for cultivating giant beetles. The fact often draws laughter, and even ire, from other knights he's met with, but he pays them no mind. His focus lies on making a name for his knightly order and for the island he was born in, all for the sake of the princess, his childhood friend, the current appointed leader of the small island.