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Ymir Tula

"From the luke-warm hands of the Gods."

0 · 364 views · located in Aires

a character in “Birthstone Spirits: The Great Escape”, as played by Onihitokuchi


Dark machines that wheeze and breathe then mock the air, appalling. What is real? What is real?


private. introspective. distant. heartbroken. questioning.

    Name: Ymir Tula
    Age: 25
    Nation: Solace (the Conservation)
    Height: 6'4
    Weight: 198 lbs

.Closed off, and usually aloof. Not many have been able to aid the usually guarded Solian man. He prefers his own company and his horse.
.Was a child when he and his and family were taken up by missionaries and told that their own Gods were merely superstition and that the "Goddess" was the only way.
.Married young, and worshiped the ground his wife walked on, but the union was practically loveless. To protect her own honor, he quietly divorced her and left, not wanting to put a damper on her own happiness. Shortly afterward, she and the rest of his village was destroyed by Cyclopeans, and he soon lost his 'faith'.
.Among his people, he was an archer, and a teacher among the youth. Now, he spends most of his time alone and has fought to avoid the missionaries as he is on his own pursuit of what a 'God' is.

Image Ymir is a broken man. Left alone by his ex-wife and the destruction of his old home, he has been forced to wander. Never exactly fitting into one place, his only form of 'solace' is his horse and his never ending wanderlust. Yes, he is aware of the lore of the twelve Birthstone spirits, but he is skeptical, as with all things. This 'Goddess' they serve - was forced upon him and his family. Their language and culture is nearly gone because of her missionaries. Instead, they are 'savages', not even people. Not even human. How can he have faith in that? Yet, there is also another threat on the horizon. A threat that killed his family and what was left of his homestead. Even prayers to his old Gods, his 'superstitions', have also felt empty.

And so, he will search. Bitter, and unwanted.

It's really all become too much

I'm not sure what I should feel

I guess I've finally had enough

I don't know if this is real

I'm crashing in and out of touch

Can anyone please explain?

Theme Song.

So begins...

Ymir Tula's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn Character Portrait: Autumn Jones
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How long had he been riding? His entire life, actually. Ymir knew how to ride a horse before he could actually walk. By the Gods, he could've ridden his mount in his sleep if he wanted. But when it came to his actual journey, the one he had assigned himself after his village's demise was reaching into a month and he had almost reached its first destination. They would sleep first, he and his horse, and would rise the finally morning. Mountain ranges were to be taken in steps. "Wachiwi," he murmured to his horse before falling asleep, "Rest up. The hard part starts tomorrow." and for a second, he almost believed that she had understood his exact words.

They awoke when the sun was still due to rise and the sky had taken on this light-purple and orange color. Not exactly night or morning, but a bridge between both times. He took the time to wash up and check his mare's vitals before he decided they had enough food and water for a week's time. When they had reached the top, he was to visit the Monastery of the Sun, all to hear their definition of what was 'good' and 'bad' in this world. If he was satisfied, he would leave to live a quiet life in a village. If not, he would journey on, his need for knowledge, unsatiated. One would even say that this was a pilgrimage. But Ymir Tula was far from a pious priest.

It was already reaching the middle of the day and they had barely covered much ground, much to his dismay. Wachiwi was far less moody at this point than he was, and she was the lady of the two. With each and every step, it felt as if those peaks were mocking him. However, he was grateful to be shielded from the sun's unbearable heat by the makeshift he wore, which was just a thin scarf worn over his head and vest. Still, that didn't keep his body from sweating, and by the time they had made it to this part of the mountain range, strings of his own hair clung to his face and neck.

It was, at this point, that he would come across a very strange sight. Twelve people, possibly more, all bundled up on a cart on a hot day on the foothills. Tsk. They all looked like they were unused to travel, too. Such a weak life they must've all lived.
"Hey," he guided his mount towards the cart, far more amused than he was sweaty or hot at this moment. "Your cart," he began, " have far too many people. It's not good. Especially on the mountains." he shook his head. He would slow down to ride beside them at the same pace as he tried to figure out why and where would so many people pack themselves into such a close spot. They didn't look like Solians, well, any Solian he'd bother to meet. But as far as he was concerned, they weren't his problem. "You make a bad move..." He took his thumb to make a slicing motion on his neck, "You'll die."

Well, he tried to warn them.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Aria Delaine Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
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Skylar turned at the sound of another voice, only to find Gwen standing next to her. The girl held a box in her hands, and she could only assume that whatever weapon she had must have been inside. Obviously destiny must have liked her better, the box appearing to be much lighter than her awkwardly large hammer.

Even so, as nice as the gesture was, she wouldn’t accept the help- it just wasn’t in her nature. Skylar was as stubborn as she was independent, refusing to show any sign of weakness. Besides, if she didn’t get used to lugging it around now, what would happen when it came time for her to actually use it?

“I got it,” Skylar replied, offering the girl a nod. “Haven’t you heard? Carrying weapons that are almost entirely your size helps to build character,” Still, she appreciated the gesture, shifting the weapon in her hands before speaking again. “Thank you though.”

As they set off through the foothills, Skylar couldn’t help but be intrigued at the scenery, her pale eyes scanning the profiles of the mountains. Florida might have had beaches and Disney World, but the tourist trap was nothing compared to what she was seeing here. It was almost enough to take her breath away, the tightness in her chest from earlier slowly fading as they walked.

To be thrust into a cart packed with everyone else wasn’t exactly her first choice of activity after nearly being crushed to death in an underground cave, but at least they were out in the open with fresh air and sunlight.
Smushed between sweaty bodies towards the middle of the cart, she was slightly grateful for the reprieve from all the walking even if she could barely move.

As they continued on their journey, the driver rambling on with almost incomprehensible stories and Kyle offering up some of his extra food, she noticed that Harper hadn’t said much. Out of the entire group she was probably the closest to him, making it glaringly obvious that something was definitely up. She opened her mouth to ask if he was alright, pausing for a moment before deciding against the action. As someone who hated having her insecurities pointed out to her, she wasn’t sure how Harper would react. He was probably just sick from the ride- it was awfully bumpy. She'd ask him later.

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, Skylar lifted her head. Eyes widening at the male’s warning, she glanced over in Haru’s direction to see how the guardian would respond.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn
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Harper's eyes widened as an unfamiliar voice spoke, bemoaning of misfortune. Not exactly the best thing to hear when you're an acrophobe.

The silence he had before held broke, and a river of words flooded out.

"Bad move?" he repeated, quietly at first, but panic still in his voice, "What bad move? What constitutes as a bad move? What do you mean by a bad move? What kind of bad move would we make that would cause all of our deaths?"

He looked up, trying to find that other voice, but only finding familiar faces. "What did he mean by bad move?" he asked, voice climbing higher in volume and pitch, "Is it because we're so overcrowded? Are there so many people that the cart might snap? Will it tip over? Will it fall off the mountain? Are we all going to fall off the mountain?"

His frantic eyes found Haru, and he directed his desperate questions at him, "Why did we get such a small cart? Why didn't we get two carts? Why are we climbing up this mountain anyways? What did that guy mean by bad move? Is this cart engineeringly sound? Is it going to break? Is the horse going to go crazy? Is there a hole in the mountain we're going to fall through? Are we going to fall off the mountain!?!"

He was shouting now, and this time at no one in particular, voice high and cracking, "Oh my god, we're all going to die! We're all going to fall off the mountain! We're all going to fall to our deaths! What did he mean by bad move? What's going to happen?!? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO OH MY GOD THIS IS TERRIBLE I HATE THIS I FUCKING HATE THIS WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE AND FALL OFF THE MOUNTAIN WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE AND FALL OFF THE MOUNTAIN OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE GET ME OUT HERE PLEASE JESUS CHRIST GET ME OFF OF THIS FUCKING MOUNTAIN--"

He continued screaming at the top of his lungs, repeating himself over and over, eyes squeezed shut with tears dripping down, his whole body shaking and knuckles so white they might burst from his skin. He would have thrown himself off the cart if he wasn't already terrified that he would end throwing himself off the mountain entirely . A small part of his brain tried to tell him how unreasonable and irrational he was being, but the rest of his brain was too scared shitless to listen.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn
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Xabier had struggled to place himself down to help the wounded monk man amongst all the packed bodies. He head heaved under the pressure of having to share the same smelly air with several others in such close proximity.

One moment everyone had just been quiet and dealing with their own discomfort separately until Harper started to scream. What the hell was wrong with him?

Xabier's body moved before his mind could process what was going. He tripped over someone's leg in his attempt to get over to Harper. On second glance he noticed it was Skylar's leg.
He apologised quickly and continued in his worrying over the yelling boy.

Anything could have happened. Harper must have hurt himself badly with the amount of screaming he was doing.
"Aye! Harper?" English failing in his panic, he bashed his leg on the side of the overcrowded cart. All he could understand was the words "die" and "Jesus Christ". Muerte.... Oh God, had he been focusing on the wrong person the entire time.

"¿Dónde le duele? ¿Qué es el mal?" He called out to Harper. The older lad kept screaming hysterically.
Ah, he remembered that Harper couldn't understand him.
"Where are you hurt?" He asked again in English.
His eyes had lit up considerably in panic.

*where does it hurt?
What is wrong?


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Xabier Sanchez Character Portrait: Kwasi Ihejirika Character Portrait: Mr. Vo
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Mr. Vo stopped the cart immediately. The old man was a little offended. It wasn’t too big of a deal but in his mind every youngster should know not to question an elder’s judgment.

“I’ve been driving this cart up and down this mountain for years. Once every week—sometimes twice,” he said. “I take care of everything, the cart and the creatures pulling it and I’ve had heavier loads than this bunch.”

Though the man’s voice remained calm, Haru placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. Mr. Vo’s monologue actually sounded a little cute—in the elderly, mildly confused way.

“We are fine, but thank you for your concern. Are you headed up to the academy also? You could travel with us if you would like to,” the Haru hummed. He seemed to be in a diplomatic mood but a sudden eruption from Harper sort of changed that.

Tallyho’s eyes shot open, bloodshot and weary. She had been half asleep for a while but after Harper’s outburst the blonde wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. That was right in her ear. Right in her ear. Since when did he even care about living?

Was his reaction really that necessary? He wailed like an infant—a fat, useless infant—who’s hungry for attention. And look at them—flocking to him, cooing over them. Before the monk could even open his mouth to respond to Xabier the accented earthling was hovering over Harper.

Oh Harper what is wrong? There is a monk spewing blood from his foot but the well-being of your mood is the most important…

As they shuffled about in the cart, Tallyho lightly placed her fingers along her temples. She couldn’t do this. The idea of spending what could possibly be the rest of her life with those people wasn’t manageable. She didn’t even want to be within five feet of them.

Not being one to wish without acting, she decided to walk the rest of the way. Tallyho wormed herself from the cart and stumbled onto her feet, pressing her back against the mountain wall to regain balance. She reached for her bag and mounted it on her back.

“What are you doing?” Haru asked, voice hushed.

The Arian didn’t answer. Instead she breezed past the new stranger who caused Harper’s eruption.

If one looked closely, they could tell that the monk was a little concerned about what kind of group he was dealing with. He adjusted himself to sit up a bit more and to put more pressure on his foot.

“I believe that she intends on walking the rest of the way,” he said. His voice was the only peaceful thing in the commotion, a fresh wash of sea breeze and matter-of-factness.

“How long?” Haru asked Mr. Vo.

“Maybe an hour?”

“Let’s go—everybody shut up. It’s almost over.”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Gwenneth Yuan Character Portrait: Kwasi Ihejirika Character Portrait: Ymir Tula
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Feeling mildly slightly, Gwen fell to the back of the group to walk on her own. She wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted the sudden generosity, but clearly it was not welcome among this group. She refrained from pitying anyone else who appeared to be struggling. Let them fight their own battles; Gwen would fight hers.

The day wore on, as did their journey. Gwen’s load was light and the walking was not difficult for her. The last time she had been this well-fed was years ago, sometime beyond clear recollection. Her energy levels had increased since arriving in Aires; no longer was it necessary to push herself to her breaking point just to keep standing.

Gwen kept her distance from the stranger, even as Haru carried him upon his back. She observed him with careful, alert eyes, drawing the occasional inference. His dress, his race, and his mannerisms were very strange to her. Evidently, he was some sort of religious figure. Gwen watched the way he allowed himself to be carried, like a wounded animal. Dark would be the day that she allowed herself to appear so disgustingly weak.

The walking continued. Despite Gwen’s light load and increased energy, the hours of walking had long since burned the calories she had consumed that morning. And seeing as her reserves were, well, lacking, she was not pulling from much to keep herself going. At the end of the day, she was still malnourished. Her wounds were not healing quickly, as evidenced by remnant symptoms of her concussion (duly ignored by the affected), and what would probably be diagnosed as anemia if Gwen knew such a thing existed. So indeed, it was with relief that Gwen saw the cart ahead.

But, upon approaching their target, the cart turned out to be woefully small for a group of twelve--or twelve and one, included their newly acquired resource drain. Gwen rested while the others climbed onto the cart. Would there be room for everyone with the injured included? When the last person settled down, Gwen came to a definitive conclusion: even if there was room, fuck it anyway. No way in hell she was crowding herself into that stinking mass of bodies. Gwen slowly followed behind on foot as the cart crawled into motion.

Not taking the cart had probably been a mistake, but Gwen summoned the dregs of her mental strength and trudged onward. The box of rings grew tiresome to carry, and eventually she gave up caring about the condition of the contents and held it sideways, despite the clanging that resulted. If there was one good thing about the situation, it was that she had kept her lovely boots from Earth. Durable, strong, valuable, they held up in any situation, even mountain climbing. That being said, they held up better than her own body too.

If there was one good thing about traveling in a group, it was that threats were much more likely to target someone other than her. Though, to be fair, she was several meters behind the cart and therefore not necessarily with the group at the moment. This was Gwen’s thought when the stranger came out of nowhere and began riding alongside the cart. She didn’t like him or what he was saying. Was he threatening them? Tch, she would have a dagger in his horse the moment he made any sort of move toward her. The cold metal was already in her hand, pressed flat against her forearm and out of sight. She kept her distance behind the cart.

The stranger’s words, it seemed, caused quite a stir within the ranks of the “warriors.” The incidence of mental illness in the homeless population is extremely high, and Gwen knew a panic attack when she saw one. She felt a little bad for Harper and the reactions he was getting. Honestly, they would get nowhere if everyone else started panicking and yelling. The situation would only get worse if they expected him to be able to suck it up. Harper was clearly not in control of the situation, and without knowing the extent of his phobia, it was uncertain whether he would be able to control that fear at all...


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Gwenneth Yuan Character Portrait: Katarina Bradley (Imani Cabo)
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No one was interested in the apple slices he offered, but that just meant he could have it all to himself. The apple was slightly bitter though, so even with surprisingly blessed silence, he didn't enjoy it that much. Maybe Kyle already started getting used to this 'Silent Planet,' or simply considered a quiet Harper peaceful. Being stuck in the cart all the way up this mountain numbed his legs and feet, and he squirmed occasionally just to keep his blood flowing. Squirming was the only way he could do so as it was so crowded, he couldn't change positions easily. He could tolerate that for now, but his peace didn't last.

All hell broke loose when a rider came alongside them, speaking of troubles. Harper had another bloody screaming meltdown, and Kyle automatically lashed out punching him in the gut. Unfortunately, the big baby threw up. At least it was over the side of the cart and luckily didn't hit anyone. Kyle flushed, thinking it was his fault, and withdrew from everyone as far as he could.

When Tallyho climbed over him to get out, Kyle went after her, because he thought he needed to. They were supposed to be a team and all. He still had no idea how that would work with this rabble, but he was willing to try. Because of his numb feet and legs, he stumbled to his knees, wincing, but the boy got up without comment. Neither did he bother looking back to crybaby or anyone, which might not be the best idea, as Gwen was behind them and she was supposed to be part of this team also. Inside the cart, he was too miserable to notice her absence.

The final trek to their destination was painful and tiring, but he thought he should be able to handle it better than Tallyho. She was smaller than him in both height and build, and as far as he knew, she didn't have a habit of mountain climbing. He stayed behind her for the most part and helped her up if she stumbled, even if she acted grumpy about it. Considering his aggressive reaction to Harper, one might be surprised at his gentle handling of angry or irritable girls.

Eventually they came to a gate, and he smiled at the sight. "Finally," the boy rasped. Temporarily he also forgot what they were here for. With a sudden surge of energy, he raced through the gate as soon as the old man opened it. Kyle paused to admire the scenery and then the two ladies met them. He started as the fancy dressed one came forward. She smiled and called them month warriors. Didn't Haru say nobody was supposed to know that yet? He rubbed his neck, and looked back to the group in the cart. He noted idiot Harper passing out, and the ladies moving to help both him and the injured man.

Turning back to Tallyho, he thought she would be tired and asked, "Would you like to sit down for a while?" If she answered in the positive, he would help her sit somewhere away from the stinkberries and possibly closer to the fountain. If she answered in the negative, well he'd still try to help her away from the stinkberries, if nothing else.

After Tallyho was settled, he asked the two ladies, "Do you need help?"