Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
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Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
_________________________________________________
Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Jul 10, 2019 18:46:15 GMT -8
"Power?" She pondered on this, fingers tapping onto her lips. "Yes, but not like you. My keepers are not aware of my heritage. One thought I was a harpy. I'm sure he still does," she told him, brow wrinkling gently. They knew she was a Bird yet no one in the Lands Below truly understood what that meant. "I harbor only a small part of him. He exists scattered among all his children. Through that part of him, he blesses us all."
Funny, how she was suddenly comfortable telling strangers this information when those she had known the longest had no inkling. Perhaps it was because they never asked.
She carefully listened when he mentioned seeking allies and gave him a look that had a bright glimmer in her eyes. It implied all she needed to let him know, all he needed to stew on. She was sure he would be more convinced in the early hours of the morning. That was when they would speak again and on slightly different terms. As she rose, she let her fingers toy with his bangs.
"Your kindness won't go to waste," she purred, making her way to the cot. Typically, she would have felt more at home next to the fire, but it felt out of place to deny his offer. She was sure he would be able to keep a better eye on her there anyway, with all those creatures wandering around. She counted only one that followed her, but how many more could be stalking these lands? She did not want to know. What she did understand was that there was more warmth beneath this man's gaze than by the fire.
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Falcon Cultain
Established
Most likely training.
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: 26
Physical Description: Falcon is a man of medium (5'7") height, with dark, intense eyes, black hair, and fair skin. Lithe in build, he’s powerful for his size, deadly quick, and possesses a glittering charisma set in his proud jawline and quirked half-smile. His body is well-toned from years of intense training, and his steady demeanor marks him easily as one who is used to command. With a well-modulated voice that seems accustomed to speeches, an enthralling temperament, and an aura of absolute confidence in himself and those around him, Falcon cuts a path through most crowds and demands attention from all who hear him speak.
Clothes and Equipment: Falcon sports fine garb - dark silk pants and fine black leather shoes, a white silk shirt, and a blue and gold stole. Over this his light, ornate armor rests, though the man frequently avoids wearing it due to his relative lack of use compared to his defensive magics. Finally, a blue and silver cloak wraps about his shoulders, clasped in the front by a silver amulet stylized after his personal crest - a falcon mid-flight, wings and claws extended.
Some circumstances will cause Falcon to change his garb entirely from such finery. When sparring or training, he'll frequently remove everything but a simple, close-fitting pair of pants, opting to wear as little as possible. When "skulking" (a 'necessary but reprehensible' act, as the man puts it), he'll don a set of woodsman's green-and-grey clothes that show heavy use, hinting at long months spent in the wilderness in the distant past.
Allegiances: The Blessed Land of Avalon
Player's online availability : Fairly often
Registered: Jun 25, 2019 11:52:01 GMT -8
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Post by Falcon Cultain on Jul 11, 2019 6:26:30 GMT -8
Falcon flinched, a blush rising unbidden to his cheeks, as he felt Khepri's fingers in his hair. The temptation to close his eyes and allow himself to enjoy the sensation was overpowering...
...and dangerous...
He shook himself after she passed, watching her carefully, gaze smoldering with more heat than the flames could ever possibly produce. It had been a long, long time since anyone had sparked his interest, and Khepri certainly entertained in him the idea of finding more than one type of ally. He watched as she slid into his tent, unable to resist giving him a small wink alongside her grateful nod, and he fought to resist rolling his eyes in response.
"Sleep well," he murmured warmly, giving her a slight wave. As the tent flap closed behind the goddess, Falcon sighed, stretching like a cat, letting every aching tendon scream for just a moment before silencing them with a wave of mental effort. He curled up against the rock upon which he'd been seated, letting himself sleep in the grass next to the fire pit as the flames slowly dwindled down to nothing. Overhead, the bright pinpoints of the stars blinked at him, bidding him sleep as well.
A true warrior, Falcon did not hesitate.
He drifted off nigh-immediately.
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The next morning, the man rose early, intent on being awake before the woman sleeping in his tent. He couldn't quite describe why he wanted to be alert before she rose...but some instinct told him that he would certainly want to have his wits about him before the woman emerged. It was a creeping sensation - alarm - in the back of his mind that drove him from the ground to his feet, and bid him begin to wake himself with training.
This early, Falcon knew, it would be impolite to begin hacking about with a blade; when alone, he needn't have minded, but company dictated politeness. Therefore, instead of taking up his sword, the man began to practice his arcana - weaving complex sigils in the air, creating spell constructs as difficult to dispel as he possibly could, only to then force himself to take them apart piece by piece with said dispelling...for a long hour, Falcon practiced his finer control on the points of magic which formed the lynchpin of his battlefield repertoire. As he did so, the writings of an old associate rolled through his mind, the litany of their lecture a calming backdrop to his mental focus.
Arcane casters power their spells by manipulating the magic that is present around them in the environment. Their own thaumic energy that is present in their bodies (a thaumic font) is always held separate from the ambient thaumic energy. This separation creates a sort of pressure between the arcane caster's thaumic font and the environmental energy, and it is via this pressure that an arcane caster manipulates thaumic energy. By compressing his own thaumic font, the ambient thaumic energy around the arcane caster attempts to fill the low pressure left behind in the caster's body. The arcane caster then expands his font and uses that expansion to manipulate the incoming thaumic energy to force it outward into an arcane spell.
Breathing in and out rhythmically, Falcon continued to practice his spellwork until he heard rustling inside his tent, signifying that Khepri had woken. His magic senses stretched out cautiously - and were blinded.
"Gah..." the man let out a sharp cry, instinctually trying to shield his eyes, though he knew it would do no good to block his arcana-sense...was this how others felt around him? What cruel vengeance, though he hadn't the time to consider it, for when he'd recovered - somewhat - and looked to his tent, Khepri emerged into the light of the sun at last...
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Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
_________________________________________________
Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Jul 11, 2019 22:28:54 GMT -8
Eyes swirling with the soft hues of dawn bore into his, coaxing the warrior into their fathomless depths. Broken only by the flutter of her lids tickling his skin, they would float away, revealing the goddess that owned them.
She was much the woman he had met the evening before, yet so much more. A dark plume mottled her rich copper skin, stretching into massive wings that sprouted from the small of her back. Golden scales and feathers speckled her body as though they were stars in a night sky. Her legs were folded over one another, untouched by the soil. A strong wind took her to flight, sweeping a curtain of hair to the side, strands caressing her heavenly features that were so much sharper than the night before. Every human imperfection that could have marred her had gone missing entirely, leaving an enchantress that bled a mesmerizing splendor into everything around her.
A smug grin spread across her plump lips just before she turned around, giving Falcon barely any warning before she shot herself into the sky, leaving a dust storm behind her. Up, up, up she went until she was hardly a blot to those watching below. She twisted through the clouds that threatened for a few giddy moments to take her gifts away until she emerged on the other side, arms lashing out in rapture. She gasped, then laughed as her ascent came to a head and she began to dip back down towards the earth.
Khepri brought her wings tightly to her body and zoomed to the ground, faster than any arrow sprung from its bow. Lifting one limb slightly, she darted away from the camp, and just as it seemed the Bird was about to meet an untimely death, snapped her wings out with an audible clap, halting her downward momentum immediately and pulling her into a smooth sail just above the hills of lavender. She tilted to the side to let her feathers skim the flowers, taking in their heavy scent as she soared back toward the camp. With a final twirl, she landed in front of her new hero with her hands planted firmly on ample hips.
"Well," she announced confidently. "I don't suppose you have any more doubts, Falcon Cultain, he who did not truly believe until he sees."
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Falcon Cultain
Established
Most likely training.
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: 26
Physical Description: Falcon is a man of medium (5'7") height, with dark, intense eyes, black hair, and fair skin. Lithe in build, he’s powerful for his size, deadly quick, and possesses a glittering charisma set in his proud jawline and quirked half-smile. His body is well-toned from years of intense training, and his steady demeanor marks him easily as one who is used to command. With a well-modulated voice that seems accustomed to speeches, an enthralling temperament, and an aura of absolute confidence in himself and those around him, Falcon cuts a path through most crowds and demands attention from all who hear him speak.
Clothes and Equipment: Falcon sports fine garb - dark silk pants and fine black leather shoes, a white silk shirt, and a blue and gold stole. Over this his light, ornate armor rests, though the man frequently avoids wearing it due to his relative lack of use compared to his defensive magics. Finally, a blue and silver cloak wraps about his shoulders, clasped in the front by a silver amulet stylized after his personal crest - a falcon mid-flight, wings and claws extended.
Some circumstances will cause Falcon to change his garb entirely from such finery. When sparring or training, he'll frequently remove everything but a simple, close-fitting pair of pants, opting to wear as little as possible. When "skulking" (a 'necessary but reprehensible' act, as the man puts it), he'll don a set of woodsman's green-and-grey clothes that show heavy use, hinting at long months spent in the wilderness in the distant past.
Allegiances: The Blessed Land of Avalon
Player's online availability : Fairly often
Registered: Jun 25, 2019 11:52:01 GMT -8
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Post by Falcon Cultain on Jul 12, 2019 5:58:26 GMT -8
Those...those eyes...
Beware, Cultain.
Falcon shook himself, blinking, the momentary disruption breaking the spell long enough for him to stagger backwards to the tune of Khepri's excited, joyous laughter. He watched as she zipped around, displaying masterful control over her flight and new form, and marveled at the sheer level of power she emitted casually. Khepri's magical aura was large and bright enough that should Falcon wish, he could likely have used her as a massive beacon, a signal fire of nearly-unimaginable strength. If she knew how to use her power effectively...she would be terrifying.
The man drew himself up, a small frown creasing his features. Terrifying indeed...
Khepri, flying parallel to the ground with her body half-tilted towards it, finally zoomed back into camp and alighted in front of Falcon. As she spoke, he smirked, eyes meeting hers with confidence. "I believe now, yes...that you are some form of deity. I have but rarely seen a figure as powerful and alluring as yourself." Why in the name of all the gods did I just say that. "It seems that we have far more to discuss than originally anticipated...I admit to some surprise, indeed." He spoke with a measured tone, but excitement was clearly radiating from the warrior - finally, another somewhat like himself. Perhaps they might find some commonality.
"We should travel to this...'accursed village'...of yours. Float alongside me, and we'll speak awhile," Falcon suggested. The man quickly broke camp, cleaning up the last of their presence with respectful attentiveness, leaving nary any trace of human passage as he hoisted a quite-full pack over his shoulders. A few moments of frowning later, and he seemed to remember something - shortly before dumping the pack, straps and all, into a smaller bag at his hip. Seeing Khepri's curious gaze, he gave a curt wink.
"Bag of holding, made for me by a friend from long ago," he explained shortly. "Now..." Falcon stretched, closing his eyes in a measure of bliss as his frame twisted in relief, "questions. Of which I have many. If you don't mind that is...how much control do you have over that power of yours? Who taught you what you know? "
A highly-amused grin slowly spread across Falcon's face, one that shed years from his face and left his eyes sparkling, displaying a boyish, casual underpinning to his normally grave, reserved manner.
"And how many suitors do you turn down on a...say...weekly basis?"
The man either enjoyed teasing, adventure, or giving into curiosity...or, most likely, perhaps all three.
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Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
_________________________________________________
Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Jul 23, 2019 15:23:08 GMT -8
All she could do was beam at Falcon. It was so rare that someone like him strode by to realize her true worth. Some came after her for her golden feathers, others for her beauty. This man, he looked at her with a pure honestly and understanding of what she was. It had been a long time since she glimpsed such awe reflected in the eyes of someone who could conceptualize all that she was without an equal amount of fear.
Stretching her wings out, she cruised ahead and led the way, answering the man’s questions as they traveled.
“All Birds are born with the knowledge of how to use the magic most suited for them,” she began, keeping her eyes ahead to scan the horizon. “I am a courtesan, and so my magic is not suited for things like fighting. I do not enjoy bloodshed. A battle between minds, that is more where my strength is, even outside of magic. That is the reason I was born, to fulfill the duties of the court through the dealings of pleasure, whatever that pleasure may be. It is quite effective even outside of my previous court. Mortals are easily swayed.” She tossed a knowing look back at him.
“As for suitors… only those who have nothing of equal value to compensate for my time. My time is precious, so an ample amount.”
A laugh urged her forward with a spin.
“And of you? Are you a warrior through and through? Who is this being that you hold within you?”
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Falcon Cultain
Established
Most likely training.
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: 26
Physical Description: Falcon is a man of medium (5'7") height, with dark, intense eyes, black hair, and fair skin. Lithe in build, he’s powerful for his size, deadly quick, and possesses a glittering charisma set in his proud jawline and quirked half-smile. His body is well-toned from years of intense training, and his steady demeanor marks him easily as one who is used to command. With a well-modulated voice that seems accustomed to speeches, an enthralling temperament, and an aura of absolute confidence in himself and those around him, Falcon cuts a path through most crowds and demands attention from all who hear him speak.
Clothes and Equipment: Falcon sports fine garb - dark silk pants and fine black leather shoes, a white silk shirt, and a blue and gold stole. Over this his light, ornate armor rests, though the man frequently avoids wearing it due to his relative lack of use compared to his defensive magics. Finally, a blue and silver cloak wraps about his shoulders, clasped in the front by a silver amulet stylized after his personal crest - a falcon mid-flight, wings and claws extended.
Some circumstances will cause Falcon to change his garb entirely from such finery. When sparring or training, he'll frequently remove everything but a simple, close-fitting pair of pants, opting to wear as little as possible. When "skulking" (a 'necessary but reprehensible' act, as the man puts it), he'll don a set of woodsman's green-and-grey clothes that show heavy use, hinting at long months spent in the wilderness in the distant past.
Allegiances: The Blessed Land of Avalon
Player's online availability : Fairly often
Registered: Jun 25, 2019 11:52:01 GMT -8
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Post by Falcon Cultain on Jul 24, 2019 7:51:58 GMT -8
As they walked, Falcon listened idly to the sound of Khepri's musical voice spinning around him lazily; the woman seemed content to give him wide smiles as she flitted with extreme joy from point to point, the wind in her feathers seeming to buoy her with unnatural strength.
"One who battles with the mind is welcome in my entourage," Falcon called, voiced his thoughts aloud. "I have little skill in such mental affairs. Though I am no fool, my grasp of psionics has always been limited. It has also not been presented...favorably...to me in my past. Many times, I was at odds with such cerebral warriors." He spoke plainly, but his words seemed to carry a great weight, as though he was troubled by the memories. Moments later, Falcon continued in a lighter, self-reflective tone.
"A warrior I am, indeed. I have neither known nor asked for any other existence. My life has been a constant battle since I was old enough to recall, and I was not consulted before being thrust into danger as a child." He murmured the latter half of his sentence with a small wink. Falcon fell silent once more, thinking pensively, before turning to face Khepri, his dark brown eyes fearlessly meeting hers with a healthy amount of seriousness.
"This "being" is Fides, an ancient deity who once held dominion over the Nusar tribe, the origin of many Avalonian peoples and cultural practices. I made a pact with it - or rather, it with me - to ensure our mutual survival. The terms of the pact were thus: it lent its power to me, that I might serve its interests...and that we might survive at any cost. We disagreed...frequently...and in the past, it had become fond of resolving these disputes through brute force. Specifically, it would possess me. I would cease to be Falcon Cultain, and instead become a Harbinger...a tool."
"This would oft end with the blood of many on my hands...and not all of them enemy. The absolute devastation was indiscriminate. So long as I survived, Fides cared little for those around me, and this lead in turn to a great deal of blame being laid at my feet - rightfully so. For a time, I was indeed known as the Harbinger - of slaughter. I was shamed, reviled, and mocked by my own people - when my back was turned. In those years...I had a great deal of maturing left to me."
Falcon paused for a few moments, carefully collecting his thoughts.
"I out-willed the thing the last time it tried. I revised the terms of our agreement through sheer tenacity. Fides, you see, holds its own survival above that of all others. It made this pact with me to escape a great hunt began by another, more primal force...and to survive. I have witnessed other gods behave as such; they are mostly inhuman forces, abstract and without understanding or compassion for much of humanity. In a way, my own feelings have influenced Fides more than its compulsions have changed me in return. And so, as I grew exhausted at ensuring my own survival through wanton destruction...I objected to its control over me."
Falcon's voice took on a low, dangerous growl for a moment. "I have little use for such petty tyranny. I will either protect all whom I may, or die trying. And that became the new terms of our...arrangement. I am grateful to Fides for my life, for it saved me on countless occasions...yet I will not allow my own morals to be compromised again and again by a deity whose thoughts are locked so deeply in tradition that it refuses to change with the world around it. That is, of course, not even mentioning its fundamental inhumanity. When I first met the deity, it was merely a font of power, light, and an overpowering voice; now, it takes a form much more human in appearance."
He turned away from Khepri, finally breaking the gaze, continuing to pace through the seemingly-endless fields, leaving a trail of flattened grasses and flowers that marked his passage.
"I forced it to realize that my morals are not fluid, casually-held beliefs. My heart bleeds for my people, and I will defend them with my dying breath. Fides may be fused with me, but it has witnessed that I am the more unyielding of us. Once it understood, it relented in turn, and brought us to the current scenario. I am Falcon Cultain, and there is no greater control over my mind and body than my own will."
Falcon stopped in place, his arms stretched over his head casually, fingers twining in a deep, satisfying exercise that popped one of his shoulders. At the same time, he exhaled into a shuddering yawn. Blinking several times, the man looked up at Khepri, head tilting to one side in a prompting manner.
"You were born for a reason, you say. Was your birth planned, for lack of a better term? Were you brought into existence to fulfill a specific purpose? What of your family, those around you? Have you any you call kin with strong conviction?"
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Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
_________________________________________________
Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Jul 24, 2019 23:41:57 GMT -8
As Falcon spoke Khepri listened intently, taking in his many expressions- oh, was he fond of that glower!- and absorbing the intricacies of his tale. The man certainly did not attempt to hide any relevant details and laid it all out in front of her to digest. Her expressions hardly changed as she kept her ears open to hear the inflections in his voice, eyes scanning the lines that formed on his face so that she could read between them. She searched for lies, half-truths, wild exaggerations that could have contorted his tale and the way she saw him.
She found none.
It was near the end of his tale that she perked a brow and quirked her lips to the side. Though she could never be sure that every single word this man spoke was law, she did see that he was honest, in the very least, to himself. Quite a few strokes of the painting that made up this man came together and formed a picture. It was rough but easy to understand. Falcon Cultain, the stubborn oak. She could see that now.
Hmph. How boring it was to get what one wanted so quickly! And yet, it was refreshing. Perhaps she could use more keepers who spoke so earnestly.
Khepri gave him a careless glance as he stretched, then came to soar just above him. Her wings cascaded to his sides, making waves in the lavender.
"All Falls are planned. Too much is sacrificed during a fall to be careless. Losing a shard of one's soul to create another is no small task," she began, eyes fixed on the horizon. "The person who you could call my father valued cleverness above all things, and he had quite a bit of it to give. The one who you would call my mother was tortured, her mind caught in an endless war between the parts of her that pursued pleasure and love... and the part that starved for power and conquest. When the time came, and my parents Fell from the skies and stripped their souls to create something new, my mother took every shred of passion and warmth from her being and instilled it into me."
She was quiet for a time, her head swirling with the memories of her conception. Bumps raised along her skin alongside a small shudder.
"Though my father wanted me to serve in the court, my mother's plans were less extravagant. They were not the ones to tell me this themselves: I knew it from the time I came into the world as Khepri, Courtesan of the Gilded Aerie, Bird of Paradise."
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Falcon Cultain
Established
Most likely training.
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: 26
Physical Description: Falcon is a man of medium (5'7") height, with dark, intense eyes, black hair, and fair skin. Lithe in build, he’s powerful for his size, deadly quick, and possesses a glittering charisma set in his proud jawline and quirked half-smile. His body is well-toned from years of intense training, and his steady demeanor marks him easily as one who is used to command. With a well-modulated voice that seems accustomed to speeches, an enthralling temperament, and an aura of absolute confidence in himself and those around him, Falcon cuts a path through most crowds and demands attention from all who hear him speak.
Clothes and Equipment: Falcon sports fine garb - dark silk pants and fine black leather shoes, a white silk shirt, and a blue and gold stole. Over this his light, ornate armor rests, though the man frequently avoids wearing it due to his relative lack of use compared to his defensive magics. Finally, a blue and silver cloak wraps about his shoulders, clasped in the front by a silver amulet stylized after his personal crest - a falcon mid-flight, wings and claws extended.
Some circumstances will cause Falcon to change his garb entirely from such finery. When sparring or training, he'll frequently remove everything but a simple, close-fitting pair of pants, opting to wear as little as possible. When "skulking" (a 'necessary but reprehensible' act, as the man puts it), he'll don a set of woodsman's green-and-grey clothes that show heavy use, hinting at long months spent in the wilderness in the distant past.
Allegiances: The Blessed Land of Avalon
Player's online availability : Fairly often
Registered: Jun 25, 2019 11:52:01 GMT -8
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Post by Falcon Cultain on Jul 25, 2019 8:39:47 GMT -8
Falcon frowned quietly as he listened to Khepri detail the circumstances of her creation, his eyes lazily scanning the horizon for any sign of change in the waves of lavender. When she finished, he nodded to himself, then looked up at her.
"Strip their souls, you say. Falling...that is the process you undergo each night. When you stumbled into my camp half-terrified and all powerless," he rumbled, laughter at the edges of his tone, a small smirk slipping up the side of his face. "That is...perhaps, then, why you need such protectors and servants." Falcon's tone was one of conjecture - almost stating items as facts, yet partially awaiting confirmation from Khepri herself. His questioning gaze roamed over her, settling on her feathers, idly noting details about their substance, watching as the wind flowed effortlessly through them.
"A courtesan. Hardly extravagant at all, it seems..." Falcon considered this for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision, turning to face Khepri.
"You are a deity, whether you have fallen or not. Perhaps you do not understand or believe in your strength. You do know that you could reach out and...mh."
Falcon's frown quickly ended his statement, and he looked away, expression pensive. "...Disregard me. I overstep my bounds. I am...unused to such interaction, after only having known you a short while."
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Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
_________________________________________________
Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Aug 3, 2019 19:41:37 GMT -8
"The fall I do at night is quite different from the Fall of two birds," Khepri explained. "Easy for those Below to get confused. It's quite alright, I understand." The tone, it was like speaking to a child about an obvious, stupid mistake. She accompanied it with a shrug.
When Falcon came to speak about her strength- yet again, and she could see he focused intensely on such things- she raised a brow. He took it back so swiftly she wondered if he picked up his eccentricity. She turned to face him and flew with her back to the ground. "I am no deity, only part of one that scattered his soul among his people long ago. I am blessed generously with his power, though I was not meant to be so talented to take advantage of it. I see that you dearly seek for a companion that is quite like you. I would dearly like to tell you that I am, but we're also quite different. Still," And here, she smiled, "Though my patron does not speak to me, I do feel his presence every time the sun rises. I feel his desires mingle with my own. Perhaps we can find common ground in that."
As the Bird swerved to the side, she revealed the dark buildings that were rising above the purple horizon. Khepri's expression darkened as her eyes landed on it.
"There it is," she told the warrior. "Bellmoral, or so it was known."
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Falcon Cultain
Established
Most likely training.
Roleplay posts: 31
Age: 26
Physical Description: Falcon is a man of medium (5'7") height, with dark, intense eyes, black hair, and fair skin. Lithe in build, he’s powerful for his size, deadly quick, and possesses a glittering charisma set in his proud jawline and quirked half-smile. His body is well-toned from years of intense training, and his steady demeanor marks him easily as one who is used to command. With a well-modulated voice that seems accustomed to speeches, an enthralling temperament, and an aura of absolute confidence in himself and those around him, Falcon cuts a path through most crowds and demands attention from all who hear him speak.
Clothes and Equipment: Falcon sports fine garb - dark silk pants and fine black leather shoes, a white silk shirt, and a blue and gold stole. Over this his light, ornate armor rests, though the man frequently avoids wearing it due to his relative lack of use compared to his defensive magics. Finally, a blue and silver cloak wraps about his shoulders, clasped in the front by a silver amulet stylized after his personal crest - a falcon mid-flight, wings and claws extended.
Some circumstances will cause Falcon to change his garb entirely from such finery. When sparring or training, he'll frequently remove everything but a simple, close-fitting pair of pants, opting to wear as little as possible. When "skulking" (a 'necessary but reprehensible' act, as the man puts it), he'll don a set of woodsman's green-and-grey clothes that show heavy use, hinting at long months spent in the wilderness in the distant past.
Allegiances: The Blessed Land of Avalon
Player's online availability : Fairly often
Registered: Jun 25, 2019 11:52:01 GMT -8
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Post by Falcon Cultain on Aug 6, 2019 8:29:12 GMT -8
Falcon's expression flickered, his eyes meeting Khepri's for a brief moment before returning to the road ahead. It was clear from his pursed lips and slight frown that what the woman had suggested - his desire for a companion - was, while true, not quite what was on the warrior's mind. He stayed silent, however, listening to her speak with his eyes trained firmly on the trail they traveled.
"Or so it was known?" Falcon murmured with a slight edge of concern in his tone. Before he could continue, a wave of menace struck the warrior's magical sense, hitting him like a blast of fell wind, and he staggered back in protest. The man let loose a deep, violent growl, returning anger of his own towards whatever force lay in wait ahead of the pair. Following this, Falcon turned to Khepri, excusing himself politely.
"One moment," he muttered, turning away and dropping to one knee in the grass, beginning to gag. For several seconds he struggled to regain control of his writhing stomach, even as the steady stream of necrotic magic slithered over his skin like oil. Falcon's magical sense, powerful as it was, generally proved a blessing - but in rare cases, the man desperately wished he could "turn it off", so to speak.
"Ugh...w-we have to do something..." He groaned. As a new, fresh wave of vile energy reached him, dancing over him like a thousand tiny spider legs, he found himself once more desiring the ability to simply ignore his senses. Finally, regaining tenuous control over himself, Falcon rose, eyes hard and narrowed.
"We must put an end to whatever is happening here. Come. With me," the man growled. "We'll investigate, and then...cleanse whatever we need to."
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