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Arcell

"Such a beautiful day..."

0 · 316 views · located in The Observatory

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by SkullJester, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Name: Zanneth Fyaori

Nickname: Arcell

Age: 25

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 183 lbs

Hair: Medium length, just past his shoulders, straight with tapered ends. The ends are a very light shade of red, but not yet pink, and the rest of his hair varies in its shades, from dark grey to a brilliantly luminous silver.

Eyes: Both of his eyes are a vibrant orange-gold, with spirals of neon violet going inwards inside his pupils.

With a somewhat disheveled appearance, Arc never really looks too amazing. Not to say he isn't handsome, he just doesn't work at appearing that way. His hair is very rarely brushed, maybe once every two or three days, and sometimes he has a bit of stubble on his chin. He appears to be entirely human, though he gives off absolutely no visible or tangible aura, like most living creatures. Usually dressed in dark attire, he never goes anywhere without his black leather duster trench coat. What leather it is made of, he has never told anyone. Though it definitely isn't goat or cow. His boots seem to be made of the same leather, and not designed, at least in appearance, for combat. Nothing about him seems to be violent or threatening, bare the overly large sword he carries around with him. He has never unsheathed it, or even held it threateningly at another person before. He tends to be a pacifist, or so it seems. Around both his wrist, he has a length of silver chain that loops half way to his elbows. All the lengths are welded together, so it doesn't clink or come loose, and seems to function more as jewelry than anything else. His skin is very pale, however not enough for people to label him a 'walking ghost' or 'as white as paper'. His teeth are not perfectly white, but as close to it as one could expect these days, and he tends to carry mints around, just to make sure his breath doesn't stink. His jaw is almost square, but still retaining some of that roundness. His nose, crooked only slightly to the left, seems to have broken at least once, but it is hardly noticeable. His hair does hang in front of his face, but he keeps it trimmed enough so that it doesn't interfere with his eye site. With broad, square shoulders, a somewhat sunken but pleasant face, his alluring eyes, and his calm, quiet, and only somewhat deep voice, he is a good catch. But he seems disinterested in things of that nature.

Personality

He is very aloof, very peaceful, sometimes a bit shy, but mostly outgoing. He always has a furtive look on his face, like he is hiding something. Around violence, he tends to go the opposite direction, but it seems like it is against his own will when he does so. Almost like the violence calls to him. When he talks about his family, its always as if hes talking about the past century. Or even further. He hides a lot about himself, that much is obvious, and it is hard for him to open up to others, or even make friends, despite how kind and generous he is. It just seems too hard for him to really commit to a friendship.

Equipment

He does ever say the name of the blade, he always replies with something stupid or a joke. The blade itself, if looked at indirectly, seems to be dripping blood but as soon as your eyes lay directly on it, it is as clean and shining as ever. Late at night, if anyone listens closely enough, it seems as if the blade is begging for help. Begging for freedom. When asked about it, he just waves the questions off. If pestered, he seems to grow angry and just walks out. The blade is a sore topic for him, but he is absolutely against parting with it.

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So begins...

Arcell's Story

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Arcell was dressed modernly, he even had on a pair of sun glasses covering his eyes. He didn't care that it made seeing in these gloomy woods harder than it already was, he was just in the mood to have them on. He tried not to trip or stumble, but the lack of light combined with his slightly inebriated state made that almost impossible. Almost. Sighing heavily, he sat down on the cleanest looking rock he could see and kicked off his boots, stretching out, almost purring. "A good walk is always nice..." Despite how softly he spoke, his deep voice tended to carry itself a long ways.

The setting changes from Dark Woods to Twisted Path

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Arcell wiped the grit from the corners of his eyes and yawned. Very loud. His eyes immediately began to sparkle with the thin light streaming through the twisted trees. The gnarled branches. Just like home. Good old home. He hadn't seen it in so long. Not since he had found the blade that rested beside him. But he put those thoughts aside. Someone was close by, it had sounded like a dog. A very loud dog. Whining. Ugh, just a grating noise to wake up to. Standing slowly, he shook the leaves and dirt from his coat and yawned once more, picking up the field bandage wrapped blade on his way.

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Arcell continued looking, glad that the extra light absorption that his eyes generated for him allowed him to see in the constantly darkening forest. He couldn't see as well as he could during the day but it was good enough to ensure he didn't trip on anything. He continued towards the sound, now picking up on voices as well as the whining of the dog. He knew these woods got...risky at night. He hoped this person could protect themselves, because sooner or later, ferals would come out. He had to find his own shelter soon, and give up on looking for them.

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Arcell found himself stumbling at the sudden exposure to the light. So close too! He hadn't realized how close he was to them, to be honest. The trees had a way of distorting the sounds and what one could hear. It was odd, finding people here. Most people avoided the Twisted Woods. She might be new to the area, however. His sword made a rather loud clang against a rock, as it had slipped from his shoulders in his clumsiness.

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Arcell pulled a mask over his mouth, muffling his voice. He then quickly re-covered his head its wrap, so only his eyes were visible. "I mean no harm...I was scouting out who was wondering around my home. Judging from your animal companion's whimpering, I took it as you two needing help." He heard an eerie howl in the distance and cursed under his breath.

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Arcell growled back. "Good luck with that. You two have fire. Bad idea. Fire scares the ferals. Scared animals mean dangerous animals. I'd put those out. Now." He looked around, his hand on his blade. As if he'd ever use it. "Listen. You're not getting home tonight. You need to find shelter. High up is better. And you need to find it soon."

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Arcell sighed. "How should I know? I stick to this area, and everything within an hours walk. I only go outside the woods if I have to. Theres trees. Rocky cliffs about five minutes south then eight minutes east...and my own home. Thats a last resort. I'd prefer...unless it can't be helped." She couldn't tell, luckily, that he was almost to the blushing point under his wraps. He didn't like having guest, because he was unusually shy. Especially around girls.

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Arcell nodded. "I can guide you there. I know the place pretty well. Only thing is though...the trip there is pretty populated. Four warrens, at the least. Dangerous, even for your...firey-ness." He was beginning to make words up, which meant he was only getting more and more nervous. But he didn't want anyone to get hurt. His home was further away but safer route. "Up to you...Danger but better sleeping. Or...safer and awkward..."

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Arcell let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah. Look, I'll guide you there. I can see in the dark better than you, and I won't attract the ferals." He leapt over them, landing in a crouch. "Lets go...Try not to be too loud, but ask a question if you need to." He stood and looked over his shoulder. "If you...see something dart around. Or hear a growl or whisper...Tell me."

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Arcell smiled under his cloth and waved a hand at her to follow. "Keep up. Or try to." He dashed forward, somehow silent in his run. He wasn't going too fast, slow enough to keep up, but still at a good pace.

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Arcell grinned wider, despite the possible danger. "Oh? Is that a fact?" He jumped up and latched onto a supportive branch and flung himself forward about fifty feet, landing in a dead perfect run. He sounded young, not as young as a teen, old enough to drink, but still in the prime of his life.

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Arcell heard the shriek and stopped in his run, turning on his heels, instantly racing back to her. Just as something lept from the shadows, its claws glistening in the darkness, Arcell came up at her side, twisting mid jump to deliver a painful sounding kick right to the side of the beast's head. "Run!"

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Arcell looked down as the beast began to get back up, its shape mostly hidden by the dark. He spat out a curse in some odd language before collapsing its windpipe with a well placed stomp. "Fine! But go! As fast as you can!"

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Arcell hurried Sera further on and on, rushing her and her pet. "Move move move! Where theres one, theres more! Just go!" He growled and grabbed his blade from his back and batted away something rushing from the tree line, not using the edge but the flat of the blade. "GO!"

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Arcell cursed and picked her up as he ran, her and her dog. "Oh sod it! I'll just carry your clumsy ass!" How was he holding her, and carrying his massive blade. The weapon was easily 12 feet long. And looked like it weighed at least 200 pounds. But in one hand? How? Picking up his pace, he dodged more attacks as if she wasn't there, like he did this all the time. After all, he did live here, so he probably did.

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Arcell growled and seethed his blade across his back, bounced her extra hard. "Shut up! Its quicker this way! Understand I am trying to save you! Just calm down and let me car-" Suddenly she went sprawling, and soon Arcell was grappling with one of the Ferals!

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Arcell looked up, surprised that she had used her fire! "What have you done?!" Hundreds of howls echoed throughout the trees. "Where is your dog?! We have to go! Now!" He picked up his blade, almost wishing he had the will to use its edge. But he wouldn't. "Crap crap crapcrapcrap!!"

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Arcell looked at his blade, then looked at her. "We can't fight them all! There are hundreds, hell, probably thousands." A second wave of howls. "Besides, how would we fight? Your fire will only attract more, and this blade is...useless!" He cursed and called for the dog with her. "I knew I should've just gone home!"

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Arcell looked at her and then back at his blade once again. He...couldn't just leave her. Despite the power she obviously had, he couldn't just leave her. Ferals were one thing. Once the Prime Ferals started to come in, she'd be in trouble. He pulled one of the bandages from his blade. "...No. Find your dog!"

The setting changes from Twisted Path to Small Path

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Arcell was trying to rub the sleepiness from his eyes, staggering only slightly as he walked. The young man was wrapped entirely in a black, leather duster, the shoulders and elbows of which seemed to be studded with short spikes, his head wrapped in ebony and grey bandages, so that only his eyes were visible. On his back, there was a massive, easily twice his size blade, wrapped in the same bandages. In his tired state, he couldn't even tell that something was observing him.

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