#characterhistory

[uno-duo-triotale]

Noirus doesnt like to feel hunger

a verying, different attempt to make the perfect weapon:

where as sayrus or frigid were designed with high inteligance, precision, calculative capabilities, and such and so fourth, such things made them inevitably difficult t control. the control variable implement was primarily Fear in experimental timeline alternates. when the fear variable was removed, i.e. the thing they feared was removed, when Gaster falls into the core, came the eruption.

the varying attempt was a triotale alternate now named noirus. a low intelligance creature designed with unstoppable physics as its primary feature rather than large scale destruction. being of lower intelligence it was easier to control, and its control factor was more basic then the instinct of fear. it was Controlled with Hunger as well as fear.

of course, the method of controlling it with fear led to questions: would it eat living matter? would it willing do its job and eat the humans once released? no. ir proved to be completely disgusted with the process of dissolving living creatures after the first attempt. 

but when pushed, tortured, abused, ordered, starved, starved for a period long past any other creature would have died, the weapon proved capable of overcoming that hurdle.

when the creatures gaster fell, however, and the creature was left abandoned in a falling apart lab for years and finally escaped, it was ravenous for meal. as testing proved, though: creatures of low physical matter such as monsters could not sate its hunger. the monster race vanished in a night- devoured by a creature that hated devouring things that would scream and struggle and cry but driven mad with hunger and taught and forced to feed on living things- and the weapon cowered in the abandoned lab it knew as home when its world, sealed internal by the barrier, was hollow and empty.

it would starve for centuries in the lab before its eventual rescue, and it was taught that it was allowed to eat non-living things again.

Noirus doesnt like feeling hungry, these days. 

[cypris-thalsian]

Dirty Little Fire-Starter

It was the eve of her tenth birthday. The young girl waited under one of the staircases in the ships hold where he had told her to. Her hands fidgeted, pulling at the sleeves of her over sized shirt. The familiar sound of Jonathan’s steps thudded down the stairs just above her head. It was a sound she knew just as well as the waves as they rocked the ship gently into the night.

Jonathan pulled free his haul as he crept under the stairs, sitting at her side. She’d normally had argued but he had insisted he’d only take what wouldn’t be missed and that it was for a good cause as it was her birthday after all. “See Miss Cypris, nothing to it.” He laid out the handkerchief revealing a metal cigarette box, a matching flask, two decent sized pieces of fruit cake and chunks of chocolate. 

The boy had obviously been watching his father a bit too much, when he reached for the cigarette case slipping one free, “Light me, Doll face.” The cigarette wiggled at her as he winked. The resemblance to his father was uncanny, 

“I’m not supposed to. We shouldn’t we’ll get in trouble..” She tried to explain. 

The boy leaned in placing a kiss to her lips, “Come on babe.. it’s your birthday. We’ve got to celebrate.” He grinned that mischievous grin that often said he was up to no good. But it was the kiss that did her in. Her cheeks turning three shades of pink through a squirm before she finally nodded. 

Cypris summoned the flame easily enough to her hand and raised it to light the tip of the cigarette as he placed it between his lips. One, two, three, puffs and the stick was lit. They spent the next minutes passing the smoke as they snacked on the cake and chocolates and sipped at the rum, hidden away in the hold.

As the smoke was nearly finished Jonathan wedged the tip into a piece of netting about one of the crates believing it would be safe there. Feeling the warmth from the alcohol he leaned over pressing his lips against the bed of her neck. It was as the young girl made to push him off that a rogue wave struck the ship, sending the children and many of the objects pressing starboard. This knocked the cigarette free and caused the boy’s hand to move to her chest.

It was as she tried to press Jonathan off her, “Stop..” The shift in the waves made her nervous as it was. Adding Jonathan pressing her with his ‘gift;’ her hands began to warm and a internal panic set in. It was as the boy tried to reach up her shirt that the cigarette from earlier still lit, set flame to his pants. 

It was his screams that brought the adults and the first mate down. The flames quickly smothered saving both the boy and the cargo. Both would have their scars to remember. Two of the crew took Cypris by the arms, clamping her wrists in the iron chains. “What did you do?!” There was a sting across her cheek that road along with that. The first mate cradled his son at his side. The boy crying and refusing any responsibility for the fire. 

The first mate glared at the young girl, “You will pay for what you’ve done to my boy! You Dirty Little Fire-starter! Look what you’ve done!” She was forced to look at the wounds on towards Jonathan’s leg as the crew that held her returned the iron gag to her mouth. “No.. It wasn’t mmm.aamm!”

That night her body took ten thrashes for the misconduct of her fire. And when next they made port, her chains pulled her back to the stage where it all began. This time she sold for twenty three hundred gold pieces. She had a bit of meat on her bones now and had actually proven her talents. A man showed her this way and that. 

She breathed in deep. She refused to let herself cry. The words ringing loud in her mind, “Look what you did!…. YOU Dirty Little Fire-starter!… You will pay for what you’ve done!… YOU Dirty Little Fire-starter!”

[lady-rian]

A Visit Home

(( 1 year or so ago)) As I walked into the old manor house a flood of old memories came, ranging from my brother and my own’s earliest moments to the events that set a ripple to our family’s history. My brother and I were born in Ironforge. We are twins. Mother had gone to visit our father while he had some time free from the campaign he served. It was the same campaign mother earned most of her scars. The stress of it all added to our early arrival, a month early if you can imagine. Father doesn’t like to speak much of it as we nearly lost mother. When she was better Father brought us all home to Darkshire.

From there, my brother tends to tell me, I was the trouble maker or the evil twin. mostly in jest. There were days we put the chickens in the pantry because we didn’t want the feral’s outside to get them. I suppose we should have told Ilsa, our nurse made. Her finding them there led to a quite glorious, but accidental oil and feathering of one of Mother’s guards.

Like our parents my brother, Theron, and I were gifted. He with fire and myself with the touch of light. This is not to say we had not struggled. Born of a noble house and having born gifts do come with their challenges. The noble name means there are expectations on a more political level and a societal servitude. I’ve learned the hard way that many don’t view it this way, but this is the way we were taught. The gifts then took much learning, tutors, and practice upon practice to help us fill the shoes we were to inherit. It was in these walls that we learned of our gifts. It was here we made our first mistakes. It was here we first learned to temper our actions.

These halls have stood since the beginnings of this once great town. Back when the town held the title, Grand Hamlet. The darkness that took hold on these lands has worn down the edges but there is still a shine of hope if you know where to look. There are hints and treasures of the lives that have passed through these walls. Great great grandparents. Grandparents whom I never had the opportunity to meet. Aunts, uncles. wars, plagues, births, parties, a legacy that has survived all that which was intended to bring us all to our knees and ruin.

To offer a brief window to that legacy I tell you this; when the orcs came, our family fled to the great northern city Lordaeron. The city where my mother was born. When Stormwind was reclaimed the family returned to Grand Hamlet. There was a peacefulness to being able to return. My great uncle, Ewan, had found love. My grandmother was well round with my aunt Teleri. Being of noble birth the family was granted an invite to the great sorcerer’s ball to welcome Medivh home. Little did they know the repercussions of attending.

My great Uncle Ewan was called away to duty, my grandparents passed on the offer as my grandmother was late in her term with my Aunt. My mother and Uncle were too young at the time to attend such an adult gathering. There had been rumors of a darkness coming. At the time it was merely that. And then word spread of the massacre. My great grandparents, and other family perished in the slaughter. As darkness spread with the curse through what is now known as Duskwood my grandmother perished in child-birth and not long after so did the babe. My grandfather turned to the darkness in his heartbreak. A mixture of cruelty and love leaving my mother and uncle to the hands of one nanny or another unless they were being pushed in their lessons.

My great uncle took to the wars following. He buried himself in his duty to avoid falling in love again, avoiding the pain that came with returning home despite the fact that his family would need his guidance. In my Uncle Joseph’s 16th year he fell to the worgen curse that plagued the land in an effort to defend these halls and my mother.

What was once a great family had been struck down to two in the home. Mother striven to please her father. In his secret time he had taken to necromantic studies. The darker the days came and he too perished. Or so they had thought. Mother with nothing left but the shadows and her hand maid to keep her company decided she would take it upon herself to adventure. To seek out the Light’s purpose for her and see the world she’d been held from. I think like Ewan she just needed to run. To get away from the sadness.

It was upon her journey’s to mass at the great Cathedral of Light in Stormwind city where she met my father. He had offered to be her guide and in their journey she became recruited to the order he served. They served together and kept company a while before admitting their feelings. Time passed and a small ceremony in Sholazar followed by a legal ceremony in the city they were joined. It was the beginning of new struggles and new victories. Father found Uncle Joseph and with the aid of a Kaldorei priestess was able to help subdue his feral side. Even though he had gained control, father never truly trusted him.

It was not long after mother became pregnant with myself and Theron, amidst a war with a group known as Vanitas. At father’s request mother returned home even though the darkness scared her almost more than any swinging blade. There was reprieve in the assaults and mother had gone to Ironforge to meet our father. That is where my story begins.

We traveled some in our younger days, but mostly we ran and toyed in these halls. Mother had thought she had lost our father and for a time we saw no more of her than a bedtime story on our way to our nursery. Uncle Joseph and my namesake family friend Jessyn kept an eye on us. There was a point mother seemed friendly with one of the men, but it was as I had begun to think we were falling apart that my father returned with our adopted older brother, Laerix. It was one of the most joyous days in all my life. To see he still loved us, he was still alive. And the smile on my mother’s face, is a smile I will never forget. We were whole again.

In his return, we soon left these manor halls to leave the darkness behind and find a brighter future for our family. Uncle Joseph and Ewan took over the Manor. Mother and Father moved us to Hearthglen and occasionally we traveled to Dalaran for trainings. I knew I wanted to be just like my father in his ability to guide and defend. Nothing against my mother, but the light called to me fiercely.  And so under his instruction along with a few members of the Argent Crusade I followed my calling.

By the age of 17 I was sent along on my first patrol through the Western Plaguelands. On the patrol was one of the young men I had spent many hours sparing with through our training. He followed a more delicate practice, if delicate is the word for it. A guardian priest, well read in histories and healing. There were more than a few times I had hassled and teased at him. Eventually he became one of my closest and dearest friend.

His name Jackson Zivala. He had dirty blonde hair with honeyed hazel eyes, broad shoulders, thoroughly seeming that we should have traded uniforms. But who was I to suggest following anything but your calling. It was fortunate for us as we progressed through the ranks and services to the crown we had kept the same assignments. I thank the Light for that every day, as he has pulled me out of some of the toughest situations I could manage to get myself into.

In my nineteenth year I admitted to myself and myself alone my feelings for Jackson. They hit me in an epiphany when he shot me one of his crooked dimpled grins he gets when he deflected some smart comment or blow. It was with him that I learned how truly short life is. I couldn’t find a way to say how I felt. I didn’t figure out that it would have been worth the reprimand. Six months ago I held him in my arms for the last time. The words left my lips after his last breath, leaving me broken. That battle plays over and over in my mind when I lay awake at night. And in the day I guess you may say I have inherited my uncle’s running to duty.

I still keep in touch with my family. But I have learned that I need to be on my own and find my purpose again and faith. Easier said than done most days. Loved ones always think they know what’s best to say, but they all say the same. I carry Jackson’s surname as my own for now. All I do for now is in tribute to him. I have been fortunate to have been found by an order that upholds the old ways. It is just different enough to help me balance. It is to the Light I pray I do not let those of the Vanguard down and I live up to the honor of my family and position Sir Timothan has bestowed to me.

That is the brief handle on where I have come from. The rest I’m still working out for myself as my perspective has changed and the world is not as terribly bright as I once saw it.

[chrysalis-effect]

Finally after having this piece for like five years it will finally have a home This is going to be a part of Mîrostel's back story: a tear from Ko'ona Kai. Ko'ona Kai is a massive water elemental that makes it's home on the aisle of the sea elves. Mîrostel would go to the dominion and sing there to adept and elemental alike with ballad and canticle. If Ko'ona Kai was there, they would still the tide for a moment to better hear the spellsinger's aria. Before Mîrostel left their hidden isle, Ko'ona Kai gave him crystallized sea water, with a small bit of luminescent sand so Mîrostel would always have a bit of home with him where ever he went. After all what is a Sea Elf without the Sea? #jewelry #glow #glowjewelry #character #backstory #tidbits #connections #characterbackstory #characterhistory #story #characterdesign #design #flare #larp #larping #costume #costuming #costumepieces #costumejewelry #elf #water #magic #dyingkingdoms #ocean #sea #inspired #finally

[luci-penstray]

Finally finished writing the history, personalities & Co of my main #Helvaði characters, including a new female one. Soon to come more design iterations and sharing info about them. #art #artist #artwork #storyframe #plot #research #writing #timeframe #characterhistory #characterdevelopment #storytelling #instaart #instaartsy #instaartwork #instaartist #artistsontumblr #personalproject #IP