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Outcasters: Atonement

Outcasters: Atonement

The world is in shambles and a tyrant sits on the throne. It's up to the Fey Rebellion to rescue their Queen and bring peace to the dying land in which they're now forced to live.

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Topics: adult, fantasy, horror, mythical creatures, original, sandbox, and war (Add Tags »)
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Introduction

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For as long as anyone could remember, there had always been some kind of war raging between the multiple known realms. Faeries, demons, dragons, wraiths, and practically all other creatures of myth you could possibly imagine. They were constantly at a disagreement, constantly at each other's throats, and had damn near wiped each other out on multiple occasions. This was the reality with which Alec Iris grew up.

Alec set about a goal to create a world of true peace; to permanently remove any need for war between the races. To do this, he would create a single realm where all races could live under one government. In the end, lacking both the power and the means, he simply focused on modeling a pre-existing realm in his image of a peaceful, unified world. In his mind, there would be no war if there was no division of the races in their respective realms. Opposition came from the idea that if he was to create such a world, he would need to destroy the other realms, or at least everyone's access to them. So, in a way, there would be nothing for them to return to later on.

Leading this opposition was Erieda Davenport, Queen of the Seelie Fae and Protector of Parkwood, who knew that Alec would attempt to take control of the town since it was the only known location where all the realm portals met. It was his intention to destroy the portals, and Erieda's duty to protect them stood in his way. Both sides of the war fought tirelessly with one another, but it was ultimately Alec who was victorious. His numbers were too great, his secret weapon too fatal. While he did not manage to destroy the realms, he did close the portals and restrict access entirely. He brought all the races together, not to a new realm, but to the world of humans.



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Alec never had any intention of ruling over the new realm; power was not his goal. Instead, when the new world was created, he handed over any and all authority over its inhabitants to Victoria Montez, one of his most powerful and influential allies at the time. Victoria quickly established herself as a tyrant figure in her new Kingdom, someone to be respected and followed out of fear rather than love. Unfortunately, for all the fear and obedience she thought she had come to command, even she could not stop the world from destroying itself.

With all the different species pooled into one land, they struggled to establish a new world order, not to mention the tensions of their pre-existing feuds. They couldn't settle but they had nowhere to run, so they ended up wiping each other out. Some races are now thought to be mostly or entirely extinct, such as humans and dragons.

As soon as Victoria came into her power, the Fae were labelled as traitors and enemies of the new world as they had opposed its creation in the war. Thought of as less than animals, they were forced into slavery. Most were used as a quick and effective way to build the world's capital city, and thereafter they were sold/purchased for the purposes of manual labour, prostitution, and/or to be generally used as servants and housemaids. Kept in poor conditions and disciplined by those who manipulate iron (i.e. the Remei), the Fae are now a weak race and pitied by most.

Some small groups of escaped Fae do exist, flocking to the forests that border the capital city. They're forced into hiding, lest they be made to suffer the fate of their ilk, and everyday risk being caught by the Queen's Army, the Remei. The largest of these groups, consisting of the Faerie Prince, Simon Davenport, and some 30-40 followers, are known simply as the Rebellion. Their purpose is to rescue their Queen, Erieda, from her imprisonment and seat her upon the throne of the new world. They know it's the only way to pick up the pieces of the world in which they're forced to live.



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1. Additional, more detailed information can be found in the OOC forum. If you have any questions, please ask! We don't bite.

2. The role-play is relatively sandbox, but please feel free to contact me if you wanna create something more specific. We're always looking for members of the Faerie Rebellion or the Remei Army.

3. No character limits but we're not looking to accept more than 8-10 individual writers (exceptions may be made).

4. The RP is accepting human face-claims or artwork (mostly for non-human characters) but no anime please.

5. There's no pressure to constantly post 600+ word posts. One or two paragraphs will suffice if you can't manage more.

6. I care more about an interesting character than a beautiful sheet, but at least one picture of your character is required. If you'd like a skeleton to work from, I can and will provide one. It's no issue.

7. There will be a Discord server available for the group but no members will be excluded from discussions. PM or post in OOC to join.

Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

View All »Available Characters

These characters are currently marked as available. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?

Reviews

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Add New »Show All »Characters

Character Portrait: Eida Iris "quote" [wip]
Character Portrait: Junjei Ang
Junjei Ang played by Aera
"Pay attention to the wind."
Character Portrait: Simon Davenport "quote" [wip]
Character Portrait: Roan Ambers
Roan Ambers played by Aera
"You can just call me Ambers."
Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus "Your kindness is as beautiful as a garden full of flowers."
Character Portrait: Isaac Davenport "I wasn't there when she needed me most; now I'll be here whether she needs me or not."
Character Portrait: Wellwish
Wellwish played by Skulduggery
NPC Profile
Character Portrait: Alec Iris wip
Character Portrait: Zio
Zio played by Skulduggery
NPC profile

View All »Available Characters

These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?


View All »Places in Outcasters: Atonement

Rebel Camp

Rebel Camp by Skulduggery

A small campsite belonging to the Fey Rebellion, which never seems to remain in the same place for very long.

Sylvar Forest

Sylvar Forest by Skulduggery

The vast woodland that surrounds the capital city of Victoriana.

The New World

The New World by Skulduggery

Overall setting.

Victoriana

Victoriana by Skulduggery

The Tyrant Queen's capital city, built upon the backs of enslaved Fey Folk and home to her many malicious subjects.

The Castle

The Castle by Skulduggery

Housing Victoria Montez and her trusted council, this dreadful construct towers over the city like a predator over its prey.

Fighting Pits

Fighting Pits by Skulduggery

Where the poor, slaves, and children alike are pitted against each other for the amusement of the rich.

Ellisar House

Ellisar House by Skulduggery

Formerly a shelter for the city's homeless and orphaned youth, before it was purchased by one wealthy individual and converted into a brothel.

Eldenway

Eldenway by Skulduggery

A quaint little village in the thick of Sylvar Forest, far from the capital city but still kept under the Queen's thumb.

Create New »View All »Groups

8 characters
4 players
The Rebellion

[Skulduggery] A small force of Faeries aiming to rescue their Queen and reclaim the world's throne.

3 characters
1 players
Stallenhor

[Skulduggery] A mysterious group of individuals with an unknown purpose.

1 characters
1 players
The Remei

[Skulduggery] Army of the Tyrant Queen, led by Alexander Davenport.

View All »Arcs

Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.

Arc 1: The Uprising

After a year of silence and careful planning, the Rebellion is starting to make its move against the Tyrant Queen and her Demonic ilk, so that they might dethrone her and bring peace to this dying world.

View All »Quests

There are no quests in this roleplay.

Events

Soon™.

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexander Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport
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A L E X A N D E R
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Training had not long come to an end when Alexander left the courtyard and ventured up to his private chambers. An intense sparring session with soldiers of the Remei had left him tired and bruised, and he panted as he trecked up the countless flights of stairs.

Alexander was often allowed the evenings to himself, provided his duties had been carried out beforehand. In this free time he'd either visit the barracks to check on his subordinates, journey down to the cellars to spend an hour or two with his wife, or he'd leave the castle to take care of... other business.

At considerable risk to his own safety, not to mention the lives of those still in Victoria's grasp, Alexander opted for the latter that night. He'd promised his granddaughter an assortment of weapons and armor; everything ranging from swords, whips, and staffs to shields, helms, and breastplates. As he'd been informed, the Rebellion were lacking in protection and their abilities could only get them so far.

Over the course of several weeks he'd been taking items in small numbers and hiding them elsewhere. If anyone dared to ask questions, he'd shrug it off and claim that they'd simply been lost on patrols or damaged beyond repair in training. No one thought to question him too much; Alex wasn't the sort of man with whom you could speak comfortably, so most didn't try.

One bandaged hand slipped gingerly into his pocket to retrieve a small silver watch, which he observed for a moment before quickly returning it to its place. If he left within the hour, he'd make it to the meeting place by nightfall. First, however, he needed a hot bath and a moment's rest.

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Alexander, accompanied by a select few of his most trusted and loyal soldiers, trudged through the mud with a solemn expression upon his face. His cloak, once a pristine white colour, dragged along the dirt as he went and caught on branches more times than he could count. He'd been foolish to wear it on a journey such as this, knowing it would get filthy, but the world had grown cold this past year. The nights were unbearable, more so than even he could tolerate.

Before long they came to a break in the trees; the clearing in which he was expecting to meet Sunday. True to her word she'd arrived precisely on time and had no doubt been waiting some time for Alex to finally show his face.

Hands clasped behind his back, Alexander bowed forward and dipped his head as a show of respect for the young lady, before straightening up. "I hope you can forgive my dreadful punctuality," he told her. "I underestimated how long it would take to get these supplies out of the castle without being seen." While he spoke, he gestured behind himself to the disgruntled soldiers lowering their crates to the floor. "As promised, I've brought everything you might need. Armor, weapons, clothing, medical supplies, food."

Alexander hesitated for a moment, seemingly conflicted, then waved a hand for one of his men to step forward. The younger boy clutched what appeared to be a box wrapped in cloth and tied with a piece of string, and shakily handed it over to Alex when he called. "Perhaps I'm over-stepping my boundaries here, but... I happened upon some books that I thought Alice might enjoy reading," he explained as he then extended the gift to her. "They're mostly old fairy tales."

He'd not yet met Sunday's daughter, little Alice, but he already knew in his heart that he would adore her. He hoped he'd be able to meet her one day, when he wasn't in a position to have information tortured out of him. Until then he would stay away from the majority of his family, and the Rebellion's camp.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Alexander Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport
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This was a risk, she always knew it was. From the moment she escaped her mother and freed all of those Fae, coming back was a risk but she had to. Grandfather was still under Mother's thumb..and other things and she needed his help. Sunday Davenport was taking too many risks but they were all caculated. All where well thought out. If anyone caught them, she'd kill them or Grandfather would, it was as simple as that. If Mother caught them...she'd kill her too. They'd just have to find a way to find Alexis. That was less simple but it was an option. Alexis trapped herself in some Nether bubble to keep from being used in the war. Doing that made her a target but it also kept herself, Victoria could claim to hurt her if she wanted but no one actually believed her and that's if she actually had her. It was a bluff, she was good for those, but it worked. It worked on Grandfather so it was all Sunday could do but to play along. Why her Mother wasn't dead, she would never understand. She hated Alec for that, Erieda was always the right choice but for some reason he choice Victoria even after she murdered Sashi, out of spite for her and her Father, something her father had yet to recover from, though he'd never admit it. She still struggled with the guilt but Sashi didn't die in her arms...just before her eyes.

As she thought this over, a rustle startled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Grandfather clad in his Remei armor appear through the trees and bowed. She swallowed. She wasn't sure she was ever going to get use to that. She was acting Queen of the Fae since Father seemingly couldn't be bothered for his grief but she wished he wasn't so formal. How she longed for some familial love. She knew better though, he wasn't alone and him being this familiar with her was hard enough since she was technically the enemy. "I hope you can forgive my dreadful punctuality," he told her. "I underestimated how long it would take to get these supplies out of the castle without being seen." He said and his men began to lower crate after crate of supplies the rebels needed. "No need to worry, Grandfather, I understand the discretion." she said and held out a hand. A shadow swirled beneath the crates and they dropped one by one into the shadows, as if a hole formed beneath them.

Once the others finished a younger lad approached Grandfather and handed him something wrapped in cloth. Sunday cocked her head at Grandfather's nervous expression. "Perhaps I'm over-stepping my boundaries here, but... I happened upon some books that I thought Alice might enjoy reading," He held the apparent books to her and Sunday smiled. "They're mostly old fairy tales." He told her and Sunday found herself giggling. "This is brillant, Grandfather, She will love them, Thank you," She said overjoyed that he thought of her young daughter to whom she'd be practically raising alone. She had Kellin but that was getting more and more complicated, Her Father was losing himself by the day. She did have Eida but she was just as lost as she is. She wished she had someone older, wiser. She wished she had Grandmother. Sunday's smile faded. "Have you seen her?" she asked softly, dropping her gaze. " Grandmother, I mean, is she any better? " she asked, remember how broken shed been the last time she saw her, talking to herself, weakened severely by the iron. It was awful knowing how powerful she had been. How she still could be now if Sunday had chosen to save her instead of Father that night. She was still lucid then, told her to take Father and go, but they needed her. Now more then ever.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Alexander Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers
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A L E X A N D E R
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Sunday's pleasant response was a relief, and Alexander found himself finally releasing a breath he wasn't entirely aware he was holding. Her laughter echoed throughout the clearing which elicited a gentle smile from the old soldier, despite how hard it had been for him to do so this past year.

"This is brilliant, Grandfather. She will love them, thank you."

Straightening his expression, Alexander dipped his head in response and offered a simple, "You're welcome."

He noted her sudden shift in mood and it only took him a second to figure out where this conversation was headed. Sunday was very fond of her grandmother and it was no secret she intended to free the former Queen from her prison. It was only by Alexander's begging that she ended up in that place, rather than being outright executed, but he wouldn't be entirely surprised if Sunday blamed herself for her mother's actions.

"Have you seen her?" the young girl asked solemnly. "Grandmother, I mean, is she any better?"

Alexander paused for the longest moment before clearing his throat. "I try to visit your Grandmother each evening, if I can," he told her, his voice dropping considerably in volume. "She's... not doing too well, I must admit. Barely lucid at the best of times, and only growing weaker by the day." His gazed shifted for a single moment, perhaps out of shame or just discomfort, but he regained his composure quickly enough.

"Thankfully, in her state of mind, she seems to be unaware of her situation. She believes that she's living in the Hotel once more, with her children," he further explained. "I've not had the heart to shatter that illusion."

"She's mad," muttered one of the soldiers, standing a little in front of his comrades. "You ought to give her some mercy, let her die in peace rather than forcing her to live in pai-" The man's voice cut short as Alexander's head whipped around, wearing the sort of look in his eyes he typically reserved for the Tyrant Queen. "Forgive my outspokenness," he offered feebly, then stepped back.

Alexander inhaled slowly and returned his attention to Sunday. It was only for the man's loyalty that he wasn't lying in a pool of his own blood, but there were more important matters at hand than disciplining a loose-lipped subordinate. He hadn't travelled so far only to offer supplies; he also had information that may have been valuable to the Rebellion.

Reaching into his cloak, Alexander retrieved a small scroll of paper and passed it to Sunday. "I've happened upon a small village nearby. It's under the Queen's control, naturally, but it's deemed relatively unimportant since the village is small and poor," he said. "It's guarded by one large creature and a handful of Demon soldiers, none belonging to the Remei." Another scroll of paper was revealed and once again passed to Sunday, this time detailing the resources, civilians, and amount of soldiers she could expect to find there. "I'm afraid that's all the help I can give you for now."

Behind him he could hear his men getting restless and Alexander knew he had to wrap this meeting up as quickly as possible. Before then, however, he had one more think to inquire about. "How... is Simon coping?" he asked, his expression softer than it had been just moments before.




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S I M O N
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Simon rolled onto his back with a heavy sigh, the back of his head resting on his forearm. He waited a few moments until he caught his breath, then sat up a little. "Christ..."

His time with Ambers only ever felt good in the moment, he'd quickly come to realise. The second they were done, he would always feel a tightness in his chest and a weight on his shoulders that proved unbearable at times. His mother's imprisonment, the fate of his people, and the countless hardships he forced upon his own daughter because he was too weak to shoulder them alone. All of it was taking its toll on him. The man in his bed wouldn't distract him forever, much that Simon wished he could.

When sex wasn't enough, there was only one other thing that worked to drive away the depression. One thing that made him truly numb.

After what felt like an eternity of staring into space, Simon finally heaved himself up and walked to the furthest side of the tent where his garments lay in a messy pile. He bent to pick up his bottoms before he started pulling them on, another impatient sigh filling the silence.

"Go fetch some wine from storage, would you?" he asked, his tone somehow both sharp and exhausted at the same time, and for the first time since in a while he finally turned to look at Ambers. "Not that weak mortal shit though... It won't do anything for me."

The look in Simon's eyes suggested he wasn't in the mood to argue about the subject, but he suspected the young soldier would try it anyway.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eida Iris Character Portrait: Mycah Youngfire
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E I D AxxI R I S


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It had been a little over a week since Eida stumbled upon the Rebellion, more specifically Sunday. Naturally she'd been welcomed with open arms, as Erieda's granddaughter and Simon's niece, but even with the warm reception she was not particularly comfortable mingling with the rebels. She accepted the offer only for the sake of her daughter, who'd not had a warm place to sleep in months.

This morning Eida had been invited to join a small group of the Rebellion's women and children, who would often venture to nearby streams or lakes to wash their garments and bathe. She wasn't a particularly sociable person but it was a far better alternative to wandering out of the camp alone, especially with her child.

As they chattered among themselves, Eida stayed a ways back from the group, smiling at the babe who gurgled and grasped at the collar of her jacket.

Eida allowed Hotaru to sit with a small group of Fey while she went to bathe quickly, figuring she should get herself out of the way first so she could focus entirely on her daughter.

Even beyond the noise of the children and idle chatter, a rustle in the bushes nearby was enough to catch Eida's attention and her eyes scanned for the source, finally settling on a tall figure in the distance. It only took her a second to recognise that face, the long hair and familiar armour of the Dragon Realm. His attention wasn't focused on her, strangely, but instead on the young Dragon she'd bore with him.

Eida strode forward until she was out of the water, completely unabashed despite her current state, and didn't halt again until she was standing between the two of them; fists clenched and narrowed eyes trained on the man. Everyone around them had fallen silent.

"Take one more step towards this girl, see what happens to you," she challenged him coldly, ignoring the younger woman who walked forward to drape a small sheet around her shoulders. Her sword, seemingly of its own volition, lifted from the ground to meet her hand and she stood more than ready to use it.

Eida didn't trust Mycah anymore, not after learning of the sigil he wore... The sigil he asked her grandfather to etch into his skin; the one that allowed him to flee when she needed him most. It kept her away, kept his daughter away by association, and he'd thus far made no attempts to see either of them -- whether he knew she was his or not. More than that, however, she was territorial by nature and the thought of sharing her daughter with this man was enough to make her blood boil.

"You made your decision, Mycah, the second you accepted that sigil and what it entails," Eida continued. "So even if I have to separate your head from your shoulders, you will stay away from my child until I say otherwise." She further lifted her sword and pointed it threateningly in his direction, so there was no mistaking how far she would go to defend her daughter and her territory. "Leave now."

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Character Portrait: Eida Iris Character Portrait: Mycah Youngfire
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Mycah hadnt know what he expected to find when he felt the call of the other dragon but when he landed and broke through the fog of bathing fae, he had not expected to fnd Eida, her skin bare to him, in a way that made the sigil on his chest burn hot. He had to tear is eyes from her to find the young dragon only to be struck by the striking resemblance. Not to Eida but to him. He swallowed, unable to move, barely able to think. He knew immediately, the small girl was his and while he heard all of Eida's threats and anger, and felt the cool tip of her blade at his throat, what stuck was "Her child,"

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came to him. He rose his hand to his chest. Shame and guilt overwhelming him. He hadn't known, even with the scars from her...attack since in his heart. He wouldn't have knowingly abandoned her and their-her child- know matter how he felt about her. She'd been broken, he'd failed her in the Demon Realm that day and he'd failed her again. This time, she seemed to be better than she had been. Back to herself Mycah took a single step back and bowed. "I am glad you back to your true self, Day Girl." He said and turned from her. "I am sorry I was not present to see you blossom or her." He said and walked back the way he came but was stopped short but a sudden pull. Then Young Drsgon, his apparent daughter. Young Dragons are naturally drawn to Older Dragons, they need them in order to change for the first time. They need genetic permission. Something he had not had until he had grown much in his human form and his first change was painful and had no one but the slave masters to watch and no comfort came from them. "She...won't let me leave, She wants to change but needs the guidance of an Elder Dragon, if you will allow it, I need only touch her hand and say the words and I will be off." He said, not facing any of them.

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Character Portrait: Eida Iris Character Portrait: Mycah Youngfire
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Eida watched with a cautious glare as Mycah shifted, the grip she held on her sword tightening with the expectation that he would attempt to move closer, but to her surprise he did the opposite. Even so, she would not let her guard down for a single second. Her eyes were trained on him, and only him.

"I am glad you're back to your true self, Day Girl," Mycah spoke up then, eliciting a sharp click of the tongue from Eida. For the first time since he'd given her that nickname, she hated it. "I am sorry I was not present to see you blossom, or her." That seemed to be the end of the situation for the moment; she didn't bother to call his name when he turned to walk away, as she might have two years ago, nor express anything other than relief that he was finally leaving.

Eida allowed herself a quick glance in Hotaru's direction, foolish as it might've been to succumb to any kind of distraction at that time, and when she looked back in Mycah's direction she was agitated to see that he'd halted in place. She took a breath, her sword still raised.

"She... won't let me leave. She wants to change but needs the guidance of an Elder Dragon, if you will allow it, I need only touch her hand and say the words and I will be off."

Everything about these words confused Eida to her very core, a large part of her believing he only wanted to get close to her daughter. She was ignorant to the ways of Dragons; Mycah hadn't been given much time to teach her much beyond the basics. As such, she was doubtful of his intentions.

"Well she's just going to have to wait," she snapped back after a moment or two. "You've been here for all of a minute and you think I'm going to let you anywhere near her? If so, you're delusional."

Eida lowered her sword some and huffed impatiently, but everything about her demeanour suggested that she'd opted to concede just a little. "Why don't you start with explaining exactly what you mean by change, huh?" she asked, mostly out of curiosity but also a little concern.

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers
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R O A N x'' A M B E R S

ImageAmbers stayed in his position on the bed after Simon had rolled off of him, soaking in the afterglow of the moment.
His light-brown gaze looked over at Simon when the curse left his lips, and his gaze fell back onto the sheets. He was aware of the weight on Simon's shoulders- or, at least, could see the effects of the man's mind on his body and actions. In this sense, it was the way Simon's voice sounded that gave Ambers the impression that some sort of thoughts started weighing him down again.

The soldier looked over to Simon again, studying those eyes, and realized that he wasn't in the position to argue. It hurt a little to see Simon turn to wine to cope, but it was situations like this that he became conflicted over who had authority. As soon as the fun ended, Simon became the royal prince again, and Ambers, a soldier.

One day, Ambers felt like he would be cast aside once Simon was tired of sex, but those kinds of thoughts were the ones Ambers tried not to think about too much.

"Alright." Ambers said, and he sat up to start making his way off the bed, rolling his shoulders. He pulled his pants on and made sure not to make Simon too impatient with the wine.

He retrieved the wine that best suited Simon's description and made his way back to the tent, ducking a little through the entrance.
"I got it, I hope it's to your taste." Ambers said, and he moved to get two glasses, pouring an appropriate amount for Simon, and only a little for himself just for taste. He had to cover a patrol shift later, so he wasn't going to have more than what he poured for himself.

He held out Simon's cup for him to take.
"Here."

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Mycah was always an even tempered man despite what it may have seemed in regards to Eida's attack. However in this moment, he'd never been more frustrated. She thought this a ploy to get close to her daughter?! He was not a liar, Lord Thomas had been fae, so he vowed never to tell an untruth, and she knew this. However Eida was never as clear headed as he was. As evident by her misunderstanding of everything that had gone on. He took a breath to calm himself. Wondering how to convincd her that this was not some trickery to meet his daughter though it would be an added pleasure then she lowered her weapon and huffed. He lowered his head. "Bless her fae curiosity" He thought before taking a breatg and turning to face her, makong no move forward. " When a young dragon is born, they are born human and after their first year of life they begin to develop their scales, " He paused, recalling his own past. "You might have noticed them on her skin already, since she is able to Call," He said and his eyes shot the the small girl who looked on expectantly. " A Call is a way for Dragons to communicate, and for young Dragons it is a way for them to connect to whatever Elder is closest, so they may be allowed to change, " He said with a swallow. He hated this story but it had to be told, "The story goes that, a young dragon called Jingham, had been abandoned and left to die. He survived however and grew and changed alone, the change was so painful that it affected his mind and he became resentful and hateful to all that had left him alone. He went on attack the Elder Gods, believing that it was they who abandoned him, however he had not been the child of an Elder God and thus was not strong enough to defeat them. Kwan Yin,The High Elder, took pity on the young dragon understanding his hurt. She and The Elder Gods made it so that we would always need to permission of an Elder to change. That way no dragon would grow without the guidance of another." He finished his tale with anheavy heart. remembering how old he had been when he was finally able to change and wondering if he too had been like the Jingham, abandoned by his own family, " It is against our nature to leave a Calling dragon, we are incapable of such a thing even if we wanted, as is our duty to protect and cafe for our own. "he told Eida, looking her in the eyes. "This is no trick, Eida,that is not my way, I am unable to leave her without giving her permission to take full dragon form." He said softly. " Yoy have my word, I will leave the moment it is done. "

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Ambers wasn't gone for too long this time, but Simon usually spent these moments alone attempting reflect on the way he interacted with the younger man. He wasn't a particularly cruel person by anyone's standards, and most knew that his sometimes cold behaviour could be attributed to the countless losses and pains he'd experienced in his life, but when it came to Ambers he found he was either incredibly loving or instead short-tempered and withdrawn. He enjoyed their closeness, but at the same time he feared it.

Growing too attached to the boy would be his death sentence, as it had been for Sashi and Tanya.

The tent's entrance was pulled back some and he turned to see Ambers clutching a bottle of wine. Simon might've forced a smile, were it not for the overwhelming guilt he felt in that moment.

He watched wordlessly as the soldier poured wine into glasses, then held one of them out for him to take. He looked at it for a few moments, though it felt like an eternity, while the countless voices in his head bickered over whether he should take it. Slowly he lifted a hand but instead of reaching for the glass, his hand went to Ambers' wrist, guiding him to set the glass down on the table once more.

Stupid as it was to do so, Simon stepped forward until he was chest-to-chest with Ambers, placing a single kiss upon his shoulder and another in the crook of his neck. He seemed to settle into the taller man, hoping for an embrace that would once again distract him, but this time it was different. There was nothing sexual about the interaction.

"I'm sorry," he spoke through a sigh. He wanted to say more, to explain what the hell was going on in his head, but nothing seemed to come out. He could only apologise for his failures and weaknesses, as he had a hundred times before.





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Be it for the compelling story that Mycah told or the sound of his voice after such a long time apart, Eida's anger and resentment were slowly draining into nothing. Although she did not realise it at the time, she had lowered her weapon entirely, using her free hand to pull the sheet so that it covered as much of her body as it was able. Her gaze had softened considerably, but she still held the faintest trace of a frown, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip as he talked.

At the very least she understood the importance of this interaction, and knew she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to, but that didn't stop her from taking as much control of it as she possibly could. His words were slowly working to ease some of her concerns, but it would take a lot more than that to chip away at the wall she'd built around herself and her daughter.

"This is no trick, Eida, that is not my way. I am unable to leave her without giving her permission to take full dragon form," he finished, so softly she could've sworn her heart fluttered a little, but she shut that thought down as soon as it appeared. "You have my word, I will leave the moment it is done."

She remained silent for a long time, carefully regarding the father of her child, then exhaled slowly. "Turn around," she ordered, knowing he would comply, and waited for him to do so before she bent to retrieve her clothes. Only when she was adequately dressed did she allow him to turn back around, by which point she was already knelt beside Hotaru, lifting her up with the gentle hand of a mother.

"You may approach her," she told him with a nod, her voice holding none of the strength it had just moments before. It was clear to see that, despite his reassurances, Eida was still quite unsure of herself and the situation. She cradled Hotaru lovingly, allowing just enough room for Mycah to get close but not enough that he'd think to try to pick her up himself, and she didn't take her eyes off him for a second.

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R O A N x'' A M B E R S

ImageAmbers didn't look up to meet Simon's gaze with the wine, and instead kept his eyes on the glass, waiting for the prince to take it. For a brief moment, his skin flushed a little- almost trying to find a fault in his actions that were permitting Simon from taking the glass.

Did he pour it wrong? Surely there must have been some royal etiquette that Ambers would have probably not known about. Or, maybe he took too long and the desire for wine had already passed. Or perhaps he had to let the wine sit or something before pouring it. Ambers didn't know anything about wine, besides that it had originated from grapes and aged in old barrels.

After it seemed the moment was too long and Simon seemed to not be taking the glass, Ambers' lips parted to apologize- only to find Simon's hand moving up. However, instead of the glass that Ambers had thought Simon was reaching for, he watched the hand instead move to hold his wrist to guide the wine down to the table. He looked up to Simon then, trying to read his expression, his thoughts. For Ambers, it was routine to stay one step ahead of the game; but with Simon, it was impossible. He couldn't read him very well during moments like this.

"Simon..." Ambers started to say, and he would have continued if it wasn't for Simon stepping in to place that first kiss on his shoulder. His word simply faded out to breath, and whatever Ambers was going to say went completely out the back doors of his mind.

The apology was unexpected, and it was then that Ambers had realized what was happening and just what type of affection this was... and a feeling of relief lifted from Amber's chest. It seemed like Simon wasn't going to drink the wine after all. As much as he was relieved for it, Ambers still was concerned on the nature of the apology and the context of it.
He wasn't entirely sure if Simon was apologizing for asking for wine, refusing the wine, or if the apology had anything to do with him at all. But, that much didn't matter to him. If he could lend an ear to Simon and help alleviate whatever negative feelings the prince was plagued with, Ambers would do it without hesitation. He owed his life to the prince, but he also found that after time had passed he really started to care for the man's wellbeing as though it were his own.

"It's alright." Ambers said, and he let a small sigh leave his lips, raising his arms to wrap them comfortably around Simon. His hand moved up to comb through the side of his long brunette hair, and Ambers hoped that his touch was able to offer some amount of comfort for the prince.

"You're trying your best, and I'm proud of you for it." He said.
Small things first. Simon made the choice to refuse the wine, which was a choice of sobriety on his part. A good step that required a lot of strength to do.

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Simon allowed himself to relax completely when Ambers' arms wrapped around him, and he let his head rest in the crook of the taller man's neck. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt fingers running through his hair, a pleasant shudder running down the length of his spine.

"You're trying your best, and I'm proud of you for it." These words caught him off guard.

Simon could've laughed. Did Ambers really think this was his best? He'd never been so pathetic in his life. Even when his parents left him behind to raise his sister alone at the age of twelve, when his wife was murdered and he raised his ungrateful son alone without complaint, or even when his girlfriend was also murdered and he was too busy fighting a war to mourn the loss. Through all of that he'd remained strong.

In the end, what broke Simon was the death of his sister, Symone. Were it not for his daughter pulling him away from the scene when she had the chance, Simon would've undoubtedly gotten himself killed trying to rescue her. Instead he watched as she was burned alive, alongside his best friend and uncle.

He could do nothing to save them, and their screams still haunted him.

Simon shook his head and pulled back just a little; not in an attempt to break the embrace, but enough that he could hold Ambers' gaze. "Don't be," he murmured, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His hand moved over the soldier's bare chest and settled on the nape of his neck, tracing circles with a single finger. This was not the time to dump all of his thoughts and feelings on Ambers, who no doubt had his own issues to deal with, so he opted instead to change the topic of conversation.

"We should get out of this tent," he suggested, being careful with his tone so that it wouldn't sound like he was barking an order. He wasn't so ignorant that he didn't acknowledge the authority he held over others, and the way they were often more concerned with his title than he was. "I think some fresh air is in order, aye?"

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R O A N x'' A M B E R S

Image"Don't be."
Ambers couldn't help but look at Simon's eyes with a bit of gentle protest. Of course he was proud of Simon, and he respected him very much. There was no way he couldn't be proud.

The way Simon looked at him with that hint of sadness had Ambers going completely silent, and he thought at that moment just the kinds of things the prince must have experienced. He only heard of stories from other soldiers, tales of the worlds before. Certainly, there were lots of things that Simon wasn't ready to talk about, and he respected that in all attributes. Ambers wouldn't push that boundary.

With that thought in mind, his eyes closed to the feeling of Simon's touch across his skin. It was quite fascinating how someone else could elicit such a calming response in his body. Ambers seemed to learn something about himself every time the two interacted. Not that Ambers had never been in a relationship before, but it had been quite a while since experiencing this type of intimacy. He had made an effort to avoid it as much as possible prior to seeing Simon, for his own reasons.

"We should get out of this tent. I think some fresh air is in order, aye?"
Ambers offered a smile to Simon's words, and he nodded.

"Yeah, fresh air sounds like a good plan. I know of a couple spots we can walk to. There's a good stream nearby... but I'm not sure how far you'd like to stray from camp." He murmured, and he leaned forward a little to deliver a gentle kiss to Simon's temple. "I'll put the wine back. Just think about where you'd like to go, and we'll make sure to go there."

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Mycah did as instructed and turned away. Hoping that this was just her wishing for privacy so to get properly dress and not to literally stab him in the back. After a moment, he was given permission to approach the little girl. He found himself hesitant. She looked like him.she did. Sharp almond shaped eyes, warm olive skin, eyes so dark they appeared almost black. He kneeled before the girl, and smiled softly. "Hello, Little One," He said, just over a whisper. She seemed to take to him well, and blessed him with a toothless smile that broke his heart. She instinctively rose her hand to him and touched his cheek. How badly he wanted to pick her up and hold her close. He had a child! Flesh of his flesh. He couldnt barely the thought of leaving her, abandoning her willingly.He himself had been abandoned, he would never inflict that pain on a child of his own, on any child for that matter. It was almost too cruel. He lowered his head and sighed. "As your Elder," he began and rose a hand palm facing her. " I release your fire" He said and her tiny palm, dwarfed by his, met and slowly scales began to shimmer on her skin. She looked afriad. "Don't fear, Little one, this is why you called me, it'll only last a moment," He said and she eased and before he knew it, she launched herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. Mycah could only hold his arms out, afraid to anger her mother if he made a move to hold her. This young the pain was no greater then the scrap of a knee. Her bones were still soft, the shift would be much easier for her then it had been for a 15 year old. It took everything he had not to comfort her.

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A soft kiss to Simon's temple made the heat rise in his cheeks. He looked up at Ambers' with what was quite an affectionate gaze, greatly appreciating the gesture.

On the other hand, the words that followed only worked to sour his mood.

Simon's eyes found the bottle in a second, a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach, like he wasn't quite ready to let it go just yet. This feeling barely had time to register on his face, however, as he released a soft laugh and a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "No need, Ambers," he told the younger man, keeping his voice as casual as he could manage under the circumstances. "I'll take that back later, don't worry."

The prince's hands slipped down Ambers' arms until he reached his hands, then began to pull him forward towards the tent's exit. "Let's just go, 'ey? That stream sounds nice... peaceful," he added, pulling back the door flap for both of them to make their way through it.

Without needing to be shown the way, Simon - still keeping at least one of Ambers' hands in his own - made his way through the camp and towards the edge of the forest, where a small path had recently been formed. It became a habit over the past year for Simon to spend many a night mapping out the areas that surrounded the Rebellion's camp, no matter where they found themselves in this ruined world. Within the first two nights, Simon had managed to familiarise himself with every nook and cranny. Streams, lakes, clearings, caves, and whatever else he could find. Not much had slipped by his notice.

The moment they left camp, Simon had visibly relaxed, and he released his hold on the young soldier's hand. A slow exhale filled the silence, before his brown eyes settled on Ambers.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, as if he was surprised that he hadn't thought to do so earlier.





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Eida was still unable to peel her eyes away from Mycah as he stepped forward, as he knelt to interact with his daughter for the first time in her short life. Her emotions seemed to swap rapidly between jealousy, admiration, and outright sadness. Hotaru adored her father almost instantly, despite typically not taking well to strangers. This sparked many fears, but also a great deal of relief.

She'd give her right arm for someone to step forward and decipher what was going on in her mind right then. Not that it mattered anymore, of course. Mycah was in her daughter's life now, whether she liked it or not.

In the midst of her thoughts, Eida was caught off guard when suddenly the young child was no longer in her arms, but instead had her own wrapped around Mycah's neck. Her eyes wide, part of her was tempted to snatch her daughter back, but something halted her. He daren't move in that moment; she could see the hesitation in his face, and in the way he merely held his arms out.

She stayed motionless for a good while, then set her jaw. Shit...

"Hold your daughter, Mycah," she told him, her voice so quiet it could be classed as a whisper, but there was no way he wouldn't have heard it. It took a lot for her to use those words, and they were not careless. Acknowledging Mycah as the child's father was a sign of budding trust, or at least some leniency with regards to her boundaries. "Her name..." she started, pausing momentarily. "Her name is Hotaru."

Eida pulled her gaze from the two, unable to watch as Hotaru cradled her father so lovingly, and took a moment to scan their surroundings. The women and children that had accompanied her on this journey were long gone; only the three of them remained. She didn't quite know if she was grateful for their absence.

With a flick of Eida's wrist, a wooden stool emerged seemingly from nothing and she lowered herself to meet it. She spared a glance to the sword that still lay by her feet, a sigh escaping her lips.

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  1. possible wrong location

    2018-03-19 11:22:53 by Skulduggery

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Mycah's heart stopped when she said the words he desperately wanted to hear. He wrapped his arms around his little girl. Eida's choice of words were not lost on him at all. The little girl, Hotaru, his little Firefly whimpered in his arms as her skin shimmered a metallic pink, green and blue. "Let it come, Firefly" He told her gently and she looked up at him before her eyes fluttered closed and her body faded into smoke. Mycah stood proudly. "Stand back, Day Girl," he told Eida without meaning to as he took a step back himself. The smoke swirled and swirled before a dragon the size of a horse materialized from within. The wings were a brilliant green and the scales shimmered pink and blue. The wings were unlike anything he'd ever seen. translucent like a dragonfly but in the shape not unlike his own. She was truly his and Eida's child. Pride swelled in his chest. "Well donee, Firefly, well done!" He nearly screamed. Her dragon form turned to him and seemed to assess him. He looked to Eida, "May I show her my dragon?" he asked tentatively. "My word still holds, I will leave if you so wish?" He said hoping to the Elders that she didnt wish.

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Eida wasn't watching the interaction between Hotaru and her father, but she was paying enough attention to the sounds to understand what was going on.

"Stand back, Day Girl," Mycah had called to her, somewhat absentmindedly it seemed, and despite the careless use of her given nickname, she did as she was instructed. The stool disappeared from whence it came and she took several steps backward, watching the smoke with narrowed eyes. She'd been around Mycah long enough to recognise when the shifting process had started. He'd shown her his full form once too; she could still remember the feeling of his scales on her fingertips, and the way he looked at her with true surprise when she called him handsome.

Although if Mycah had been handsome, then Hotaru's form was the truest beauty she'd ever laid eyes upon. It damn near knocked the breath from her lungs. A smile lifted the corners of her lips, her hand now placed over her own chest, as an overwhelming sense of pride filled her entirely. She didn't think it was possible to love her daughter more than she already did, nor for the child to remind her any more of her father.

"May I show her my dragon?" Mycah asked, and Eida practically had to drag her eyes away from Hotaru to focus on him. "My word still holds, I will leave if you so wish?" At this, her expression straightened, but it was still soft enough compared to a few minutes before. It took her a moment or two to figure out her own thoughts, but before long she shook her head.

"You have five minutes," she told him, calm as ever. "Only five, then I'm taking her back to camp." For a brief moment she considered explaining why she was in such a hurry, but decided to keep the chit-chat to a minimum. She could sense Simon's presence moving further and further from the Rebel Camp. Sunday was long gone, too. The two leaders could be as careless as they wanted but she didn't trust Kellin alone to keep the rebels safe. Her eyes shifted to Hotaru then back to Mycah, settling on him, and she donned the firm tone of a mother before speaking once more. "You're welcome to return with us, of course, but you'll both do so in human form. If I hear a single complaint from either of you, I swear by the gods, you're both gettin' it."

Once that was out in the open, Eida folded her arms and drew forth a steady breath in preparation for the next five minutes. Seeing Mycah's dragon after so long would no doubt trigger a rush of emotions, the likes of which she'd felt the first time he shifted for her, and she'd be damned if she let a single one show.

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Mycah let out a breath when she give him five minutes, that he hadn't known he was holding. He grinned widely and bowed gratefully. When she finished her orders, his grin widened even further. He was granted permission to be with his daughter for much more time then he'd prepared for. He was almost giddy with excitement. He nodded, agreeing to het terms and then backed away from them both. Hotaru though her dragon was beautiful, was young, as such, her dragon form was small, like that of a horse. Mycah, however was older, much and his dragon needed much more space. His skin shimmered like Hotaru had, only his scales were black and red, like brimstone, or hot coals. Smoke began to swirl as he began to feel the slight pinprickling sensation of his skin shifting. Hotaru's large gold eyes watched with interest as the smoke surrounded them, growing larger and larger by the moment, it was as if a thick fog began to roll in and settled at the clearing. Soon, within the smoke, bones shifted, cracked, grew and reformed, skin thickened, hair grew, then flattened and hardened in to hexagonal pads, laying flat in a brick lay pattern, eyes enlarged, the colors shifting from a deep warm brown disks amid to a golden yellow amidst pitch black slits. The Dragon emerged from the smoke as it faded and bowed to the little one. The little dragon nuzzled it's smaller maw against the larger and he obliged. Mycah turned his large head to Eida and lowered it to look at her. "Thank you, Day Girl, for this." He said, his voice low and rumbling, with echos of his own but with a low and hollow growl behind it. He'd learn to speak in his dragon form, something he hadn't been able to do when he was with her before. "I owe yoy much."

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"Thank you, Day Girl, for this," spoke the dragon before her, golden-amber eyes meeting her own. It was no habit of hers to underestimate him, so Eida wasn't too surprised that he now possessed the ability to communicate verbally and coherently in this form. She raised a brow at his words, however, for she didn't quite understand what he meant. "I owe you much," he added and she shook her her in response, the following words seemingly escaping her lips because she could catch them. "You owe me nothing."

Eida had neither the time nor the patience to be nitpicking over what either of them owed to the other, if anything at all. Promises were made and broken, as was their relationship, but none of it mattered now. Her only priority in life, from the second she gave birth, was her daughter's safety and happiness. If Mycah wanted to contribute and be part of Hotaru's life, so be it. He would always have that chance, whenever he felt ready enough for it.

"If you make the decision to stick around, you'd better follow through," she told him, eyes trained in his direction. "I know you're a bit of a flight risk, but she deserves better than that." There was a very slight hint of snark in her tone, but even she didn't know if she was joking or not. Only time would tell.

Picking her sword up off the ground, Eida sheathed it silently, then bent to pick up her jacket and shrugged it on. By her estimation, Mycah still had a couple of minutes left to do with as he pleased, so she instead went to stand by the edge of the clearing with a watchful eye on the surrounding woodland.

As the final minute passed, she turned back to the pair and caught Hotaru's attention by calling her name, approaching slowly. She only bent to retrieve her daughter when the shift back to human form was complete, and the cooing child nuzzled into her, apparently quite tired after all of that. She smiled a little without realising, then remembered that Mycah was still nearby.

"I see she's taken to you very well," she remarked quietly, then gestured towards the path they were to take back to camp and slowly began walking that way. It had gotten a fair bit darker since their interaction began, and under such circumstances Eida might typically begin to feel a little tense or on edge, but for some odd reason she felt safe. She often used to feel that way around Mycah, at least before the incident. "I... wonder if you might help me settle her down for the night? She'll probably be quite antsy after all this excitement."

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Mycah was taken aback by her response. It was a knee-jerk reaction, He was sure of it, but still, it was nice regardless. He quickly shifted form as Hotaru did. She did it with such ease. He was proud. He rolled his shoulders as Eida spoke, freezing him in place. He fought the urge to glare. He was the flight risk? Says the woman that essentially raped him that was hardly fair. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when she called Hotaru over trotted over happily and Eida smiled. He kept his comments to himself, that conversation was not best for Hotaru. It may not end well and she shouldn't be present. Eida spoke again and Mycah's ire abated quickly at her question . She might have been being catty but that was fae nature. He shouldn't have taken it so personally. "I would be honored." He said softly, with a nod, gesturing for her to lead the way to camp. He'd always known where the camp was and had been working with Sunday and Simon for a while with refugees. He avoided Eida like the plague, He wondered why Sunday had always insisted he speak to her and now he knew why. Sunday was probably sworn to secrecy and being fae she could not go back on her word but tried to tell him anyway. Clever girl, he thought. Had he not been so stubborn, he would have come ages ago.

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Time Skip: The Following Morning



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Simon had woken up exceptionally early that morning, wrapped in cloth and nothing else. Ambers was nowhere to be seen, which usually meant he was off being productive elsewhere in the camp. The prince yawned, stretched his arms out, and waited for the tiredness to fade completely before he ambled out of bed.

He attempted to pour himself some wine but, for a reason unbeknown to him, the jug that had been brought to his tent the night before was now empty. Clicking his teeth, Simon ventured out of his tent, heading for the storage tent nearby. That's usually where they kept it.

When Simon spotted his daughter, seemingly taking inventory at the far side of the tent, he halted for the briefest moment. "Oh, Sunday," he said, a little dumbly, "I should've guessed you'd be here so early." The new supplies had been brought in last night; he wasn't even sure when she'd gotten back to camp.

He allowed himself some time to survey the newer additions to their armour and weapons, one gloved hand hovering over a pair of Sai in the crate closest to him. There was something in his eyes when he looked at these blades, but whatever that may have been, it was gone far too soon to be of any note.

Kneeling beside his granddaughter, who was also in there with them, Simon extended an arm to tussle her hair, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. "And good morning to you, sweetie. Are you well?"

There wasn't a chance in hell he'd be indulging in his newfound drinking habits with the two of them around, and deep down he may have been relieved about that.

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Antheia Ophiuchus
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Golden and crimson painted the many tree tops of the vast Sylvar Forest as the morning arose. Lush verdant green trees covered the rolling hills around the capital city Victoriana. Their leaves glistening with morning dew and blissful rays. A soft fog slivered through the forest’s branches and over the uprising roots they bore.

A lily-white dove flapped its wings through the lucid flow of air. The avian landed delicately on the rough surface of a tree branch after slowing down with many quick wing beats. With round, dark eyes it watched the awakening of the forest intensively as if it was searching for something important.



Not far away a group of fourteen Demon soldiers began their morning patrol. Their metallic plate armor shone brightly in the golden morning light and the slight rattling of chain mails filled the woods with every step they took.

After passing a fallen, mossy tree trunk, the infantry split in half and marched into opposite directions: one to a narrow trail cluttered with a web of dark green ivy. The path was surrounded by willow-like trees whose blossoms resembled tiny white snowflakes and shone like starlight. The other half headed towards a glade with cement-grey tinted grass.

“Think we’ll find one o’ those bastards today?” asked one of the new recruits his comrade with a deep, raspy voice. “We’ll see. But there’s almost always one hiding in the tree den up ahead.” responded a grim looking soldier who was about one head taller than the other one. His eyes held an icy blue colour.

After leaving the ivy trail the group of seven marched past a clutter of velvety yellow bushes. “Don’t touch these. They’ll kill ya shortly after the poison makes your skin peel off first.” Warned a dark haired soldier with a three-day stubble - the group leader - to which the Private only responded with a gulp. A couple of minutes later they arrived roughly thirty feet away from an old, massive oak tree. Its branches were slightly pale brown but the wood was sturdy and the canopy stretched far over the with light dappled forest floor.

The blue eyed recruit leaned towards the rookie and whispered in a gloomy tone: “Man, I sure hope it’s a female this time.” His eyes scintillated in a dark, lustful way. Then his gaze wandered over his shoulder, awaiting orders to examine the well-known hiding spot. The group leader gave him a nod and with that the duo sneaked towards the old tree, one on each side of it. Gripping the harsh, wooden bark with their gloved fingers they exchanged a cunning look at each other. Then at the exact same moment, they leaped to the front of the den, expecting a Fae or other refugee to meet.

But they found nobody.

All they could see was a group of lime green, ant-like creatures that crawled over a dead rabbit. Its fur was a mattled grey, but it was ruffled and dirty and drenched in old, dried blood. Where once two eyes sat, were now two gaping black holes which some of the bugs crawled out of.

Turning their faces away from the grotesque sight and smell quickly, the duo took a step back and observed the surrounding area instead.

The forest was quiet, except for a soft breeze that ruffled the trees’ foliage. Maples, oaks, birches – all of them seemed to grow at this part of the woods but each one was different. Dark pink leaves, vivid orange barks and blossoms in various shapes and sizes decorating the canopies. It was still sunrise and the golden light slowly but surely lifted the ghostly white fog now. However, the forest still gave off a sorrowful atmoshphere and it was unnaturally cold for this time of year.

Both men were still staring begrudgingly into nothingness. As the older of them made a “tch” sound in annoyance, he thought of a way to let go of his anger. He was so sure they’d find someone today but the fact he was wrong made him angry. His gaze then fell on a broad maple branch. A white-feathered pigeon sat on top of it and seemed to stare right through him with its dark, round orbs. He slid his right hand over his shoulder and gripped a black colored crossbow. Loading it up and aiming at the bird. The younger soldier gave him a confused and slighty shocked look but then stared intensly at the fair avian. In his mind he imagined how the shadow-manipulated arrow would pierce through those pure white feathers and splatter the branch with a rich, red liquid.

A soft shot filled the air with noise. However, it didn’t pierce through feathering but the rough maple bark. A puzzled look fell onto the soldiers’ faces as they searched the glade for any trace of the bird. But it was nowhere to be found.

The taller man then stomped towards the tree impatiently, circled it and looked up towards the thick branch. The arrow was still stuck in the bark, eerie shadows snaking around it like black smoke. He decided to climb up and get it back, gripping the rough surface of the tree tightly with his hands and pushing himself up with his legs. Up there he moved his hand forward, about to grasp the arrow but then like out of nowhere, some sort of impulse threw him backwards and onto the forest floor. The soldier grunted in pain and held his head. “What the…” he half-screamed, even more puzzled now. Almost instantly after the impact though, he got up on his feet again and took out his short sword from his leather belt. “Show yourself!” he demanded, but the air was still.

His icy blue eyes scanned the decidious forest another time. By now his comrade was next to him, trying to load his own crossbow clumsily. The arrow fell down a few times before it was loaded in correctly, because his hands were shivering in a fast paced motion. Next to him, the older soldier started to scratch his left leg continuously, his skin was quite itchy all of a sudden. The feeling slivered upwards, over his torso and nape, then it crawled over his face and on top of his nose. Squinting his eyes, he was finally able to make out the form of something white, which reminded him of the petals of an orchid. It was all he could make out in that short moment. The next hearbeat he was sent flying on his back again roughly.

The recruit next to him gasped and watched the scene in shock. In the corner of his eyes he was able to make out a small white dot, which leaped back from the soldier in a high arc. Before landing on the ground however, its shape increased in size and changed into a white, fluffy fox, ducking into a fighting stance. By this time the injured man got up and now angrily glared at the vulpine. He charged at it with his sword but the fox was too quick - it dodged the attack with ease and snaked between his legs, appearing behind him and hitting his nape with a strong leap. The soldier first stumbled forward, but then used the momentum to slice his weapon furiously behind him, aiming to hit the target.

Though the fox was up in the air now – but as the white dove he saw on the branch before. It flapped its wings vigorously and created an icy wind that kicked up into two, small tornadoes. The rotating columns of air enveloped the soldier and kicked him backwards into a tree, so strongly that he passed out. Normally an impact this strong would make several leaves fall down the tree, but the plant seemed to be completely unharmed from the attack.

The noise though alarmed the rest of the group. The remaining five men hurried over to the duo, all of them wielding at least one weapon. They came to a halt in the middle of the glade and looked at the passed out comrade in confusion since nobody saw the assaulter. The new Private stared at a broad tree, a small white fox standing in front and resting its cold gaze on the infrantry.

The leader with the three-day stubble first let out a contemptuous chuckle but then held up his axe and marched towards the animal. The rest of the group all aimed their crossbows at the vulpine, in case it planned to escape. But not today. The fox stood still, not moving a muscle.

A gust of wind blew through the forest, making branches rattle as the golden sun now stood up high over the tree tops. Its rays enlightening a glade which now turned into a battlefront.



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  1. possible duplicate content

    2018-05-28 10:48:35 by Ventarrones

  2. possible duplicate content

    2018-05-28 10:51:21 by Ventarrones

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Alice Iris
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Alice had awoken early so Sunday decided to get an early start herself. She was glad Mycah had reunited with Eida and finally met Hotaru. She didn't know if they would reconcile at the rate their stubbornness was going but she was glad they found each other. It couldn't help but make her think of Alec. She wanted so desperately to hate him but she couldn't bring herself to do it. A large percentage of the population, Fae, Demon and Human like were murdered because of him. Humans were practically extinct. Her mother ruled the world and her grandmother was losing her sanity because of him, yet, she couldn't hate him. Even after abandoning her for this crusade. She couldn't hate him. She still loved him, like a fool.

After some hours, while Alice read with her bunny Mr. White, a miraculous find of her brother's, something Sunday was eternally grateful for as Alice loved that doll, Sunday decided to take inventory, there were a wide array of weapons, chainmail of gold, iron and silver. Claymores, Sais, Charkams and Raipers, Even a Silver Bullets for a few revolvers. This was a good find her Grandfather made. She picked up the Charkam, a disc shaped blade and turned it over in her hand. She liked it, it felt good, weighted nearly perfect for her strength and size. She was tempted to test it but her father made an appearance and she set it down softly. She smiled in response. "You can thank Alice for that, actually" she said with a chuckle as he kneel by his granddaughter. Alice looked up at him, her expression impassive as usual. "Good Morning, I am fine" she said and that was that, her attention was back on the book, though she blew out air from her nose as if she smelled something foul but otherwise said nothing.

Sunday stayed quiet as well. People grieved in their own way, she wouldn't hold his vices against him, for he, of all of them, lost the most. "Mycah has returned to camp, finally met Hotaru, Isn't that wonderful? " she said, trying to add her once natural cheerfulness to her words. "He seems to be staying, Eida acts indifferent but she's happy he's come back, maybe they'll forgive each other?"

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Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Sunday Davenport Character Portrait: Alice Iris Character Portrait: Isaac Davenport
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The crinkling of Alice's nose when Simon approached was not lost on him and instinctively, he stepped backwards. Not that it would help at all, he realized. His daughter said nothing on the topic, which was something of a relief. The last thing any of them needed right now was to be fighting; not when a divide in opinions would assuredly result in the division of the rebellion as a whole.

Sunday began speaking of her cousin, Eida, and her relationship with the Dragon boy. Simon listened, nodded, and offered the sort of half-smile that showed he was very much paying attention but that he also had little time for worrying about other people's relationships. Beyond that, he feared supporting this reconciliation would only put ideas in Sunday's head. When she posed a question to him, there was a pause. "It's entirely possible," he murmured, and left it at that.

Simon was curious about her meeting with Alexander, or rather he was only interested in finding out what beneficial information had been exchanged between the two. "My father," he began, "I imagine he shared more than just weaponry and supplies." It was more so a prompt than an outright question; no doubt Sunday would continue from there, had she been given half a chance.

The tent curtains drew back and in waltzed the Fae Prince, Isaac, a cut from his brow producing a steady stream of blood down one side of his face and soaking the collar of his once-white shirt. Wet mud and sporadic patches of blood covered him from head-to-toe. Still he grinned from ear-to-ear, apparently proud of himself. In one hand he held the severely dented helm of a Remei soldier, casual despite the way it burned his skin. "Had a run-in with 'em not too far from here, only be a matter of time 'fore they find this camp too."

He tossed the helmet to the ground by his sister's feet, then leaned against a nearby table with his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't mind me though, if you were talkin' about stuff."

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Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Wellwish Character Portrait: Alec Iris Character Portrait: Zio
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A L E C , _Z I O_ &_W E L L W I S H



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"Oh, come now, boys," called thin, Irish accented vocals from not too far away. "Is that there any way to treat a lady?"

The scene halted almost entirely and the axe-wielding soldier was left scanning his surroundings with a frantic gaze; his subordinates weren't quite sure whether to aim their crossbows at the trees in his aid or keep them trained on the creature whom they'd originally been harassing.

Emerging from the dense woodland into their leader's line of site, three strange men ventured closer to the brawling group. Slowly and casually, as if there was no worry in their minds.

At the head of this group stood Alec Iris; simultaneously the creator and destroyer of the world in which they all now lived. Although most would not recognize him by sight alone, he possessed an air of great importance regardless. He had changed quite a bit since fleeing from his mistakes one year ago, but he was still the same boy beneath the stern stare and muscular physique. Royal training still in effect, he stood straight and held his head high, openly challenging the authority of these soldiers.

"Leave the damned thing alone," he drawled.

"Why the fuck would we do that?" one of the soldiers barked back, making it clear he had no intention of backing down. That was a poor decision on his part. Alec raised a single brow at this challenge, one hand slipping from behind his cloak. A sphere of raw white energy pooled in his palm, his feet shifting in a way that he could launch himself towards the group at a moment's notice.

Either side of the exiled Prince stood his two companions. On his right, an eager-looking individual with chaotic eyes, adorned with black paint, and a wispy beard. Much like Alec, he too changed his stance, his lips twisting into a grin. On his left, a stoic yet impressively brawny soldier; dark of skin with thick dreadlocks that grew down to his chest. Calmly, this man turned his gaze towards his leader. "Surely there is no need for violence here, Alec," he prompted, his voice rough but pleading. "After all, are these not your grandfather's men? They may still wear his mark."

"What the hell could you do with our mark?!" the same soldier growled at them. "You're not Alec... You can't be." Not a single one of them paid him any mind, to his utter annoyance.

Alec gave some semblance of thought to his companion's idea before confirming his decision with a single nod. He did not need any more blood on his hands, disgusting as their behaviour may have been. Objectively speaking, they were only really following their Queen's orders.

Without spoken instruction, both men set about removing Alec's cloak from his body, as if he were still a respectable member of the royal family. Beneath it, he wore a fitted black leather tunic, breeches of the same colour, and fine leather boots. Both of his arms were scarred with sigils from shoulder to wrist, some more faded than others. One marking on his right bicep stood out above the rest as it glowed a dull blue; it often did so when it was near others of its kind. These soldiers all bore the same mark upon their arm, except Alec's was vastly different.

When he created this sigil at the beginning of the war, he made sure that he and his grandfather were special above the rest. They could control all others who wore the Remei sigil; a simple tap would give their words power and influence that no other creature could possess over the soldiers.

Alec lifted his hand; two fingers pressed together would give a simple tap to his scarred skin, and the sigil glowed a brighter blue for but a second. "You will gather the rest of your patrol, and all fourteen men will return with you to the capital city. There will you report directly to your Queen and you will tell her that Alec Iris has returned from hiding and wishes to speak with her at once. Understood?"

Mindlessly, the soldiers nodded in unison, holstered their weapons each in turn, and walked back the way they had come without another word.

Alec lowered his hand at that point, watched the men until they were out of sight and turned back to the fox, checking that it had not yet run away. Perhaps it was curious, grateful, or just plain stupid. He did not yet know, but since it had not fled, he thought it might be time to introduce himself and his companions. He gestured to the dark-skinned man on his left. "This here is Zio, my mentor," he explained. "The crazy bastard over there is Wellwish, and my name is Alec."

Zio stepped forward, a warm smile gracing his handsome features. The fox was a fair bit smaller than him, to say the least, but he bowed his head out of respect nonetheless. He aimed to make it clear that the group meant her no harm. "Might I ask your name, little fox?"

Outcasters: Atonement: Out Of Character (OOC)

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