IP: 73.11.168.105
Posted on September 19, 2017 at 11:57:28 AM by Vhetiveer
Name: Vhetiveer
Biological sex: Male
Hair colour: Black
Eye colour: Bright Green
Skin tone: Caucasian but tans easily.
Wing appearance: Prismatic/pearlescent green dragon wings
Physical & Neuro-Diversity: n/a
Your player name: Parade
How you found out about us: Revelations implant!
Detailed appearance: Thick black curly hair, bright green eyes, 6'10" and about 170 lbs. Caucasian but tans easily, is Turkish/Mediterranean in descent. He is very wiry like a runner might be, although he appears to look thin and frail he can hit someone with the velocity of a charging Freightliner. Vhetiveer has many strange tattoos hiding in unlikely places, including a third eye tattooed on his forehead. He carries very little on him and appears strung out. Several piercings here and there. Very spiritual so he looks natural and smells like an herb shop.
Age: He appears to be a middle-aged man although he couldn't tell anyone his true age. We suspect him to be a 35 year-old.
Ethnicity: Turkish/Mediterranean
Gender: Vhetiveer was born male and is gender fluid - he does use male pronouns.
Sexual & romantic orientation: Whatever closes the deal! If the stakes are high enough he will play either side of the coin. Pansexual.
Anything else you wish to include: On Revelations, he had large black rabbit shapeshifting, communication with the dead, and a familiar who is an extremely old, large raven named Luz.
Sample post:
It should have been over with when the axle broke and the wagon flipped. The horses whinnied and screamed until they too were overturned. The whole thing had been a disaster from the beginning and Vhetiveer knew it. He hacks the lines and turns the pathetic animals loose. He struggles to get free of the debris and he can smell the smell of minerals and powders in the air that make him think of angry mountains. Shadows move within the cabin, the fuses being pulled out and fussed over - wired - lit!.
He should have known that the trade would go poorly, he should have known that strangers could not be trusted with secrets, his secrets. His Familiar disappears out the back with a group of thieves and he is left to die here thinking that Luz is trapped inside, inside his cage, frantically beating at the toxic smoke which reaches through the bars. He does not see Luz leave alive, all he sees is bright lights and flames and ringing, he can hear nothing but distant booms and ringing in his ears.
Within a matter of minutes the cargo that the carriage had been carrying ignited with one hiss, two hiss, three hissing sounds, the silk canopy top sizzling as delicate imports began to detonate. Round after round the canons fire, everyone in the valley must know someone is here - so much for a quiet entry. So much for smuggling. So much for making any money.
From the either ends of the purple carriage emerges a Great fire -- all kinds of fire, some of it screaming and some of it blue. Some of it exploding and some of it popping-bright spectacles of orange, green orbs, some red and others purple! Some spin-fizz-whir by nonplussed goats before they go screaming off through the vineyards.
All the border dogs are at alert with their farmers and their vineyard caretakers as the driver of the coach rises up from the black smoke gasping, screaming hoarsely at the top of his lungs. "My bird! Please!" His leg might be broken, a rib might be cracked - but - the sky is blue and the night is cold, pain has very little time to play a part in this crazy existence. Dogs hate him - they can smell what he really is.
Cottontail.
Dogs bark at the sooted-up freak stumbling, bumbling, smoking with clothes still on fire. The farmer just stares with a long face at the carnage and the strange fire eventually ends in a whomp-whomp-BOOM! Vhetiveer looks back at the farmer who looks at him in return -- his hounds bay and bay and bay until the stranger can barely recall what lead to this very moment.
"My cage," but he grows smaller and smaller and then passes out in the mud before he can ask the farmer to save his bird. All he can remember is how big his footprint truly is - the rabbit he has become is curled in a tight ball within it. Burned badly.
Fetch'im, the farmer tuts as he sends his best dog out to collect the thick black fur out of the mud.
Replies:
- accepted >> - By Aspelta September 19, 2017 at 11:39:26 PM
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