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Calliope Alexander

Perilous Peridot

0 · 644 views · located in Aires

a character in “Birthstone Spirits: The Revival”, as played by Fabricator





Calliope Alexander

Cali, Alex, Lex




British (Paternal) / American (Maternal)

ImageHeight and Weight
5’ 1” - 135lbs
Hair and Eye Colour
Auburn curly hair with light brown eyes

Easily described as a warm and easy-going woman, Cali can either be impossible to notice or ignore depending on her mood or wardrobe. Usually sticking with simple jeans and tank-tops or casual t-shirts with a jacket over the top she does love going out in the evening in a lovely dress, and enjoys switching out to skirts during the summer. Overall she favours darker clothes often with popular culture references splattered across them or band slogans.
Since arriving in New York she’s had a few nights where she’s tried to capture everyone’s focus and others where you’d never have spotted her. With her winning smile she’ll warm your heart and draw your focus to her eyes. She keeps her wavy hair a little past shoulder length so it frames her face better but ties it back when she’s thinking or wanting to get lost in a game so it doesn’t get in her eyes or offer any distraction. Depending on the time of year and how much she’s spent outside her hair can range from dark brown to an almost golden auburn in colour.
While her skin is mostly blemish free her right leg does have a rather large amount of scar-tissue which is part of what caused her to move away from dresses as she became heavily self-conscious about how it made her look. She does still suffer from these moments of doubt but has mostly moved beyond them, though when she’s tired and struggles to hold her weight they tend to resurface.

Inquisitive ✫ Broken ✫Forthright ✫ Geeky ✫ Stubborn

Cali may be the youngest of her siblings but she’s not been phased by what she’s had to live up to, and would often get her older brothers into trouble since they were meant to be the responsible ones. Because of this she’s always had a little mischievous streak and loved to play pranks on her family but never strayed into them becoming malicious even though she sometimes felt like doing so. She’s often quiet and tends to focus on whatever has currently got her attention but that doesn’t mean she’s shy per say since she will just become rather single minded and throw caution to the wind.
While she’d get into fights with other kids and her brothers she would withdraw to her room at home to become lost in the world of online gamers to the point where she’d sometimes attend completions or conventions. And when she won she’d be unbearably smug and proud but if she’d lost then she’d be almost as bad while she sulked.
Even though she doesn’t suffer fools gladly she’d rather help others improve rather than belittle them for their inexperience or ineptitude. That being said she still has moments where she’s finally had enough and can explode into a rage of unsavoury words to make sailors blush.

    Music - I ain’t never gonna get locked up in another cage.
    Fast Food - ”It’s weirdly better in America, that’s why they’re fat.”
    Animated Movies - Touch the sky and we’ll be free.
    Dandelion and burdock - ”I like the weird texture and flavour. It’s ambrosia.”
    Singing - ” 'Cause everone's singing, we just wanna be heard.”
    Rain - ”It’s so warm and dry over here, it’s almost another world.”
    Sci-Fi - ”I aim to misbehave.”
    Competition - ”Victory or Death, Lok’Tar Ogar”
    Gradmothers Necklace - ”My dad gave me this when I was born.”
    Flirting - ”I like making them flustered.”

    Losing - ”I can get quite competitive”
    Heights - ”Well… it’s not so much the fall but the landing I dislike”
    Dancing - ”I’m not as good on my feet as I used to be”
    Boomerangs - ”Well, when I throw things away I don't want them to come back."
    Old Hobbies - ”You can’t do everything forever”
    Being told she can’t sing - ”You don’t have to listen”
    Being Alone - ”It’s nice to have someone to hold.”
    Alcohol - ”I’m not a lightweight and no I don’t remember what happened last time.”
    Drugs - ”My horizons don’t need expanded, thank you very much.”
    Reading - ”It’s amazing just being able to lose yourself for a little while.”
    Computer Games - ”I play pretty good for a girl. Noobs.”
    Swimming - ”It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would”
    Roleplaying Games - ”It’s my world now. Think you can take me?”
    Shooting - ”I can hold my own.”
    Board Games - ”I’ll trade you two sheep for some bricks and wheat?”

    Brow furrowing - ”It’s when I’m uncertain, alright?”
    Clicking tongue - ”I do not…”
    Sleeping-in - ”What time is it? Oh, not again.”
    Licks Lips - ”I sometimes hesitate before I speak.”


Cali's parents were born on opposite sides of the Atlantic with her mother, Eleanor growing up on a family ranch in Montana, America while her father, Marcus was born and bred in Yorkshire, England. The two were both serving soldiers in their respective militaries for several years before working together on a few joint operations, where the pair ended up at loggerheads for a while. Even so a relationship developed out of their continued exposure to one another and saw them eventually married, with Eleanor taking a permeant station as part of the American defence staff in the British Isles. A few years later she gave birth to twins following a couple of years later by Calliope. Their childhood was a little erratic, with both parents often posted around the country and the children moving rather regularly from school to school. Most of their childhood was spent around army bases in the UK and her holdings but they also got a fair share of time in America as well with them spending much of their summer break on their maternal grandparent’s ranch. She still finds the differences in weather between her parent’s different homelands heavily bewildering.

While her elder brothers went into somewhat safer fields of study with one of them training to become a chef while the other became a doctor, she decided to follow her parents into the military and joined up as an electrician in the British army, serving for just slightly more than her initial four years and attaining the rank of Lance Corporal. At the age of 20 she was in active combat when she was wounded and medically discharged following surgery after injuries sustained to her right leg. This has left her with a rather prominent limp which she’s managed as best she can.

After her discharge she decided to change track and spent the next four years at university where she studied Computer Security with Forensics before deciding to take a break and travel a little before starting work with a company based in New York. She’s recently arrived in the city a few month early to make sure she isn’t going to end up commuting from a cardboard box.

Hexcode: #551a8b Creator: Fabricator Faceclaim: Danielle Panabaker

So begins...

Calliope Alexander's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Calliope Alexander
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Calliope rolled over and buried herself deeper into the warmth of her duvet, sighing contentedly as she tried to keep her eyes screwed shut. Even so she could feel the sleep fading almost as quickly as it had come and as wonderful it was to remain trapped here she knew she’d most likely be unable to find any proper sleep if she tried. Turning over again with a somewhat resigned sigh this time she scrambled over to where her phone lay on the bedside table and glanced at the laminated digits telling her she’d managed roughly 8 hours of uninterrupted rest, taking her right through to early afternoon. Certainly explained why she was beginning to feel a little peckish and also leaving her with plenty of time to spend before settling down for the night and seeing if she could improve her ranking. After untangling herself from the bed she stumbled into the shower, doing her best to make herself presentable afterwards though she did end up having to spend a little while massaging some life back into her leg when it had been wracked by a rather painful spasm. Standing up gingerly she stared at herself in the mirror and gently let her fingers trace the edge of the chain around her neck before resting on the large Peridot jewel in the heart of the pendant as it rested atop her cleavage.

Once feeling a bit more like a living person she selected a simple white blouse with a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. Grabbing her brown leather jacket she did a little twirl in her mirror. She picked up her rucksack having never quick managed to survive with just a handbag due to her necessity with taking her laptop and other “essentials” with her at all times. The bag itself contained a few gadgets and tools she always felt would come in handy even if she only used them once or twice a year but her time in the army had left her a little paranoid at being caught unawares; even if what they’d mostly succeed in allowing her to game wherever she was rather than helping her survive the wilderness.

As she was about the leave her apartment she spotted a black baseball style beret her brother got her a few Christmas’ ago hanging from the chair in the corner of the room. She strode over and placed it on her head a jaunty angle as she remembered tossing it aside last night after she’d returned from a frisky little club and settled down for a couple of hours of Overwatch. Satisfied with how she looked and amused by her escapades she made a quick exit, and descended into the hustle and bustle of New York.

On her way down she quickly checked her emails to see if there had been any word from the seller for the parts she’d order to finish her Mercy cosplay for Halloween, muttering to herself about yet another delay as it turned up blank while other items were simply listed as awaiting dispatch. Disappointed with the lack of progress she decided to swing by the local coffee house and picked up a tuna and melted cheese Panini accompanied by a large Frappuccino lathered in whipped cream.

After finishing the food and feeling rather energetic she decided to take a detour through central park, her footsteps bouncing in time with her music all the way causing her to almost break into dance and even result in the odd spin; much to the bemusement or outright confusion of any onlookers. As she sauntered through the foliage of the cities heart she felt a calming sensation that reminded her of parents different homes where the landscape was more akin to roaming farmland than it was the chaos of the city. As she hummed along with the song she glanced up to see that the sun was beginning to set and decided to head a little more inwards. Completely lost in the moment as the area around her seemed deserted she burst into full song, while her necklace glowed warmly against her skin. As she ran the words across her lips she didn’t notice her feet dancing as the pain in them felt too distant but for a moment.

”To see the thin line between me and you and you and me.”

As she continued, almost lost in her own world she didn’t know the commotion going on nearby as her music drowned out both her singing and the cries of strangers in battle with an unseen monster. While the conflict raged on she darted through the park, passing inches out of harm when trees buckled and weapons flew overhead as they missed their mark. Her focus was brought back to reality as the setting sun’s rays were blotted out for a moment by a flash of bright, white light. Turning sideways she lost her balance and stumbled as the light surged forwards in a wave that poured out through the trees, threatening to overwhelm her. Uncertain of what she was looking at she panicked from her sudden loss of balance and the growing warmth of her necklace. As she freaked out a little she ran afoul of the terrain, completely losing her footing and falling backwards sharply, her head landing with a heavy thud against a nearby root which caused her vision to swim.

”Because it's a mighty thin line” She sighed as her sight of the world blurred. For a moment she felt as if she was carrying something heavy with all her might yet at the same time floating through the air as if someone was carrying her. As her eyes fluttered closed she could have sworn she saw her own face smiling re-assuringly down at her and then she knew no more.

She awakened with a start and stared around her in shock, trying to make sense of the wooden walls and the simple cot she was lying in, which appeared half full of hay inside a barn. Stumbling to her feet she hesitantly made her way over to the barn door and peered out into the blinding light of a setting sun that was similar yet different from the one she’d seen in central park.

”I’ve a feeling I’m not in Kansas anymore… Though this place looks more like Kansas than New York.”

She wondered to herself as she noticed a nearby House where she could see several people gathered around a table partaking in what looked to be a meal. Slowly she crept over, glancing around at the rolling fields of wheat which seemed to surround the house. The displacement of where she was and where she knew she’d been was starting to unnerve her and she could feel herself starting to shake a little as she made her way to the patio door.

Standing a little taller she pushed the door open and stepped into the room beyond where the gathering was taking place, however the sight within made her stop instantly. The sight of a woman dragging a blade across the throat of an unarmed man as he sat among, what could either be family or strangers for all she could determine, but regardless the act itself caused her to fill with rage to see such cowardliness. Despite the mortal wound the man continued unaffected as if nothing had happened but still his throat continued to bleed all the same. She felt her blood run cold at the sight, completely at a loss of what to make of what she was seeing.

”What the bloody hell?!” As Cali cried out and stumbled back towards the door she’d entered she could feel a sense of Déjà vu in both her words and actions.

The bloody hell…

Her body almost looked like it had an echo which was leaving aftereffects reminiscent of contrails in the wake of an aircraft. They were gone almost instantly, making her feel empty in their wake as they fled.

The bloody hell…

As they died away her fingers slowly covered her mouth in shock while the other lightly brushed against her necklace which was almost melting with heat against her flesh yet didn’t hurt like it had earlier and felt strangely right. The strangeness of it all was causing her to struggle to process events however and she instantly felt more akin to a deer caught in headlights than the calm professional she should have been.

”W-wha… Who… How?” She mumbled, her eyes darting around the room before settling on the strange man with his throat still faintly leaking fluid.

”Where are we? And how do we get back?” Her voice was a little hard as she fought down her fears to replace them with the calm she’d always drawn on in conflict.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Angela Taylor Character Portrait: Haru Sinwood Character Portrait: Calliope Alexander
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Haru pressed his mouth into a thin line as one girl brushed past him to barf on the porch, and another girl stifled her drink down out of fright. Apparently that wasn’t the best approach he could have taken to prove his authenticity. His misguided efforts were punctuated by the horror of a straggler who missed his entire spiel.

”Where are we? And how do we get back?”

Haru slowly ground his molars together, a stress-related habit he started to notice a lifetime ago. Obviously he had his work cut out for him: Most of them weren’t fighters and some of them, from first appearances at least, didn’t seem like team players. This slow and steady approach wasn’t really his thing and in retrospect he wasn’t sure why he tried it in the first place. He couldn’t get a read on how the others felt about this cutthroat scene, but if witnessing him survive what should have been a life-ending injury wasn’t enough to get them to believe in at least a bit of magic, then he didn’t see any point in testing out any more elaborate ways to get them up to par with what was happening. If handling them with kid-gloves and scare tactics wouldn’t work, he was left with being as painfully honest as possible.

He glanced at his partner in theatrics who had just finished lopping up the last of his blood from the floor.

“I suppose I was never good at making people feel good about less than ideal situations,” he hummed with a slightly glum smirk. “Could you check on the one outside? See if she’s in good shape to come back in with us?”

The woman with the scar nodded and left the room immediately. As she exited, the redhead hoisted himself up from his chair and turned to the new young woman. He wiped his hand on his cloth napkin and extended it for her to take.

“I’m sorry you missed dinner. I’ll be sure to have them bring you something before you turn in for the night,” he said. He felt sympathy for them, he really did. Waking up with a completely different life’s purpose and being bound to that position by destiny was a taxing realization for him too.

“I hope that you will give me time to explain your situation.”


Tallyho drew back from the railing as the woman with the scar tapped her back. She had a surprisingly calm reaction to the sudden physical contact, and silently looked at the woman who in turn looked at her longingly.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the woman said, accompanying the words with a soothing back rub. “But Haru… You have to trust him. All of us here who work on this farm, we had nowhere to go.”

Tallyho caught her eyes dancing along the woman’s long, brown scar and turned her eyes away, embarrassed by her own curiosity.

“We were all deplorable: A score of outcasts, sinners, prostitutes and drunks before we came to this farm. The world, not even our own families had anything to do with us. None of us had purpose in the way we lived and no one was willing to help us find it. But when deplorables like me come to this farm, suddenly we get a break—a break from a world who casts a judging eye and ever looks back. He doesn’t care where we came from, only that we are willing to live past it and become better before it’s too late. And I think he does this because he knows what it’s like to make mistakes and never be forgiven.”

Tallyho didn’t look back at the woman but her breathing evened out, and after a few moments she spoke.

“You believe in all that stuff? The Old Thought? The Goddess and the Month Warriors?”

The woman smirked as she pushed a dark hair out of her face.

“I don’t believe in one God. I have many. They are in the trees, they are in the fire… But I do believe in humans. And I believe an honest man when I see one.”


When Tallyho entered the room again, Haru released a sharp breath. Third time was the charm.

“Let me try this again… I realize how this all sounds, trust me. And if I didn’t have to be here doing this, I wouldn’t be. But this is Aires. You are not on earth anymore. You are not ordinary people. You were brought here to defend, not just this world, but your loved ones just a reality away. You are chosen—and each of you wield extraordinary capabilities that I’d be happy to delve into later.”

Haru glanced at Tallyho, who was still reeling from her gastric episode. He’d need to give them a taste of it if he had any hope of convincing them.

“You are Tallyho Abel, you were born on February 17th, and you received this amethyst necklace from your Baba as a birthday present when you turned fifteen. You can control the lightning and electrical currents… Angela Taylor, November 2nd, you like tarot cards and other… interesting things. But that’s fitting because with your topaz you can communicate with and manipulate the energy of the dead.”

Haru went on and on like this, introducing each person in the room, telling them a bit about themselves and rounding it off with their special power. He did this for everyone until he got to himself.

“And again, my name is Haru Sinwood. I don’t know my exact birthday anymore but I know that I was born in the summer years and years ago. I am one of twelve men and women sworn to protect and prepare you for the fight to come. I was once an important person in this world… A military official from an old, cold country called Hales. They called me The Red Commander. I was cruel back then, and when I died I was punished to this… in between state. Alive and not alive… I guess in some of your religions you might call this purgatory? My spirit was not allowed to pass to its final resting place, and so…” He gestured to the fresh wound on his neck. “I cannot die. Not yet… I cannot die until I complete my mission. And so here I’ve been, roaming and waiting for you. And now here I am.”

He took a long look around the room. If this didn’t help then he wasn’t sure what else he could do. He took a step back, opening the door to whichever party felt the need to leave.

“I can’t prove much more at this point. I want you to be able to go home to your families. But this cannot be done until your purpose is fulfilled, and I don’t have the power to make it so. Only the Goddess. But if you do not trust me, and you want to take your chances out there alone… Well you are adults and I cannot stop you. Please, walk through this door and do not look back. I can only warn that you are safer together as a team than alone. Nothing out there is like anything most of you have ever experienced.

But if you do trust me then great. I will get you settled and take care of you. I will take you to the mountains to get proper training because in a world like this you need to know how to defend yourself. Most importantly, I will help you unlock your powers. And the sooner we win the war, the sooner you get home.”

And with that Haru was officially tapped out. If they chose to leave so be it. He only hoped that he’d be able to work with what he had even if the team wasn’t complete.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorian Steinsson Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Angela Taylor Character Portrait: Haru Sinwood Character Portrait: Ron Muller Character Portrait: Calliope Alexander
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The reactions around the room were telling enough. One girl fled the room to go wretch outside, perhaps spurred on by the gore or the iron scent thick in the room. Angela took his advice with a shiver, mumbling what sounded like a plea to ducks* under her breath. Then there was another woman who entered the room, another Earthling from what Dorian could tell, who was greeted with all of the violence and none of the context. He found himself rather concerned with the prospective Month Warriors around him.

*At least he thought she was. Dorian, while rather good at picking out Common words, was not equally competent in Common slang or swears. Therefore, even though he though the context was maybe a little weird, he assumed Angela’s people just had some sort of affinity for waterfowl while in distress. Aliens, am I right?

Dorian sipped his own wine as she demanded another variation of what had already been explained. If the atmosphere had been any different and Dorian practically anyone else, he would have laughed from the way exasperation was radiating off of Haru in waves. The other man was clearly a professional people-wrangler, however. He pulled himself together and treated them to another round of “who, what, when, where, and why” as the scarred woman was sent off to retrieve the girl who’d made her escape.

By the time he had finished with the basics once more(maybe not for the last time as Dorian noticed that there were still less than twelve people gathered around the table) and the girl had returned, Haru was ready to begin his final pitch to the group, more tired and less idealistic than when he’d begun. And it was in that explanation, mixed with very necessary introductions, that a few things clicked.

For one, Dorian realized where he’d heard Haru’s name before. The Red Commander was sitting before him, a bit shorter and scrawnier than the history books would have the people of Hales imagine but him nevertheless. Although the man glossed over his accolades and history, Dorian knew. The story had been ingrained in his mind, the military tactics analyzed from countless angles, the biography researched, and, of course, his fatal flaw examined to within an inch of its life.

It was like a Romanian had met Vlad Tepes or, in a more positive comparison, someone from around the area of Carthage gazing upon Hannibal. Eerily historical, incredibly amazing, and perhaps a little disappointing (which was more Hales’ speculative scholars’ s faults than Haru’s own).

He also realized that this really would be easier if he had been stuck on Earth rather than still on Aires. While he and Tallyho* could feasibly leave, find their ways home with some trials and tribulations, these Earthlings were stuck at the mercy of being strangers in a strange land. If any of them chose to leave on their own, they’d have to be complete idiots or, if he was being charitable, temporarily insane.

*It was fortunate Haru had just taken care of introductions when he did. Dorian had been maybe thirty seconds away from mentally dubbing Tallyho “the vomiting blonde” to differentiate her from the other women in the group. Now she was Tallyho, the other Airesian, which was a much better title in the grand scheme of things.

Or terribly greedy, as it turned out. The man from earlier, the one Dorian had decided that he disliked from the moment he saw Ron shooting so haphazardly in Central Park, was speaking again after a brief and rather troubling laughing fit. Dorian didn’t recognize every word he used, and cultural differences were springing up quickly leading to questions. Among them:

Why would he want something as silly and decorative as gold and silver?
Why would a man whose life and, as Haru had hinted, own planet were at stake decide to play pretend mercenary?
Why, in the name of the Goddess, was he trying to construct a hand-cannon*?
And why did things have to be so terribly ironic? A wannabe war lord (anyone stocking up on jewels and hoping to bring new weapons to a foreign land could be little else) who had the powers of a healer**, not a fighter.

*Dorian, while no genius, knew those ingredients by heart. This was mostly because his uncle had spent the duration of the hand-canon’s invention process speaking of nothing else to the extent where Dorian was reasonably certain that even he could make one with the proper tools.

**Even as he recalled that little tidbit, he could practically hear his grandmother’s gloating. “Oh, my! Who would have thought? My lessons weren’t so useless after all, little Dor. Your Baba’s ramblings about month warriors are not so boring now.”

Dorian wasn’t about to try to reason with someone so painfully self-important (which was good because Dorian’s reasoning tactics tended to involve threats of or actual physical violence). In a continuance of the world’s great irony, Ron’s selfish demands actually helped Haru more than anything in this regard. Ron’s laundry list of demands allowed Dorian to brush aside his own qualms about magic jewels, month warriors, and prophecies in order to embrace the side that was “I’m not with that guy” or “Please don’t let an immortal historical figure think I’m poor enough of a soldier to agree with [b]that guy[/]”.

He turned to Haru and, perhaps just to finish this endless cycle of demands and explanations, spoke in Common for everyone to understand.

“I go, no cost. It is most good interest for Hales. Protects world and home.” He nodded his head sharply, reaffirming his stance. After all, if they were really month warriors, it would do Hales a good deal of good to have one of their own represented among the group.

“And I can carry burden of two. I and the Braghlnucht’s*. It is not bad deal.” He indicated Ron with an almost cheerful tilt of his head in the other man’s direction. He had no issues with shouldering the burden of two if it meant less muss and fuss over Ron’s non-negotiable terms. The sooner this was settled, after all, the sooner they could begin. More importantly, the sooner they began, the sooner Dorian could go home.

*This is the closest approximation of the actual word to ever be written. In Halesian, Braghlnucht is a word so foul that it has no Common equivalent. Even hardened soldiers and criminals would flinch at the word, the ghostly taste of the soap that their mothers and grandmothers cleaned their mouths out with for even beginning to say the word still haunting them. Apparently Dorian was not fond of people who attempted to profit from dire situations, or perhaps he just didn’t like the look of Ron’s face. Or both.