RealisticFantasy
✯ Raccoon Catcher ✯
Please post only character sheets in this thread. Please keep questions, concerns, and comments in the OOC tab or PMs.
Little Red or just Red is notorious for her baked goods. Back in the Old World, she was known for her extreme kindness despite the circumstances in which she had grown up in. Many thought she was ignorant girl due to this kindness though it was rarely said to her face. In the Mundane World, she is known as Ruby Red. Her personality starkly contrasts that of her old self. Ruby is standoffish and manipulative, even aggressive at times when she doesn't get her way. As Red's memories return to her, she has to deal with the consequences of the actions of her Mundane self along with struggling to continue avoiding the Big Bad Wolf. When she inevitably finds herself in over her head, she might not have a Prince Charming to bail her out.
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Background
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Red's parents were killed by the Wolf when she was a teenager. The Wolf continued to make nightly visits to her town. Her grandmother was determined to keep her safe, laying out a strict set of rules and investing in precautionary measures to prevent the Wolf from even laying his eyes on Red again. Both because of her loss and her grandmother's rules, Red became reluctant to befriend anyone.
Eventually the fear of the Wolf existed only in her nightmares. With the help of her grandmother, Red opened a bakery. To forget her gruesome past, she threw herself wholeheartedly into the bakery. If she wasn't locked away in her grandmother's house, she was in her bakery. Red still generally kept to herself, saying very little to even her customers.
Little else is known about Red's past following the death of her grandmother. The Woodsman, celebrated as a hero after the presumed death of the Wolf, was the last to see her. The untrusting few believe he is to blame for her disappearance. Everything she owned, bakery included, was left untouched and abandoned.
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Personality
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Red is a generally happy girl, preferring to see the best in others rather than seek out the worst. She has often been called oblivious, ignorant, and stupid for this attitude, but she doesn't let the insults bother her. She avoids things that remind her of her past seeing as she already struggles with recurring nightmares.
Despite her often bubbly personality, Red doesn't shy away from a fight if she deems it necessary. She has few fears other than the Wolf which can lead her into some troubling situations. However, she abstains from violence as much as possible, preferring to talk her way out of her problems.
After her disappearance, Red became even more so antisocial. She keeps to herself the majority of the time, keeping a close handful of friends. She fears bonding with someone due to her past of losing people close to her. Continuing to go by her Mundane name, she prefers to keep her true identity under wraps for fear of the Wolf finding her.
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Red's Story
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My story doesn't go quite how they tell it in the Mundane World. They don't call me Red because of some stupid jacket. It's not all sunshine and flowers. It never was for me.
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All Good Things
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We didn't always live in fear of the Wolf. There used to be times when children would going running in the woods at night. Well, really I was the only one with an interest in the forest. I found typical town life dull and tedious. My parents gave me a red riding cloak to wear when I went out. They said they would be able to see me no matter how far I went when I wore it.
I spent every minute every hour I could in the woods. I was absolutely fascinated by the solidarity and silence. It was like an entirely new world. Everything moved like clockwork. I could time myself by how many birds how flown overhead. I knew exactly how far I was from home by how many trees I had passed along the way. I felt like I ruled my own little kingdom in the woods where I could escape from the dullness of the town life.
Eight. That's how old I was when I met the Wolf. He was at least twice my size and as dark as a moonless night. I can't explain the terror that I experienced when I first saw those glowing yellow eyes on my way home. Gleaming teeth were the next feature I could make out as I stumbled backwards and tripped over a rock.
He paced toward me, careful and determined. I was certain that I wouldn't be in good shape if I managed to be alive after the Wolf was through.
"Pl-please. I just want to go home..."
He stalked toward me for a moment, his eyes scanning me up and down. I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst. But, when I opened them, he was gone. I quickly returned home without a word to anyone.
The next day, I returned to the woods, still fearful of the Wolf. Timidly, I stepped through the forest, scanning even bush for a sign of his glowing eyes. The silence that had once been so calming was now incredibly unsettling. Then, I saw him. I inhaled deeply.
"Hey!"
I was still a safe distance away and he turned to face me with a growl. I fumbled with my folded red cloak in my shaking hands. Scraps from my last meal fell to the ground and I spoke softly, stumbling over my words.
"I br-brought this for you. I kn-know it's not much, b-but..."
I lifted my gaze back to the Wolf. His fur was raised and he was baring his teeth but still I stood my ground. I was determined to coexist with the Wolf like I had with the others creatures in the woods. This was my sanctuary just as much as it was his.
"L-look, I come here a lot and I just... I don't think anyone should go hungry."
The Wolf snapped at the air, lunging forward slightly. I stumbled back, falling backwards and raising my arms to cover my face with a small shout of fear. The Wolf settled slightly with a tilted head. I scrambled to my feet, wiping my eyes.
"Fine then," I said sharply before heading home.
I returned the next day, again with the remnants of my most recent meal. The Wolf was where I had found him the previous day. He reacted similarly to my presence.
"I-I'm not scared of you," I asserted as I approached him with my folded cloak. It was a blatant lie. We both knew it. I swear I saw him crack a smirk.
"An-and, you're not taking these woods from me," I stated as firmly as I could manage with my shaky voice as I knelt down slightly closer than the day before. I unfolded the cloak carefully.
"This is the only place where I have friends, okay? You're not taking that away from me. I'm getting tired of being lonely. Aren't you?" My voice was quiet and slow as I spoke every once with the greatest care.
"I feel so... I don't know the word. I feel important out here, like I matter. If I ran away, I don't think anyone back there would care. They don't pay attention to me. I'm not a princess." I wiped the tears from my cheeks and sniffled.
"But, you don't care either, do you?" With that, I stood up and left the Wolf alone.
The next day, I returned once more with scraps. Silently, I dumped them out from my cloak and left. This continued for years. Sometimes I would stay for a few moments, but I never said a word to the Wolf and he never ate until I had gone.
I was fifteen when the pattern was interrupted. I had arrived at the usual time in the usual spot, but the Wolf wasn't there. Cautiously, I knelt and unfolded my cloak. Suddenly, I felt a nudge at my side and I leaped away with a scream.
I sat, panting as I tried to recompose myself as I stared bewildered at the Wolf who looked, in my opinion, only mildly concerned.
"You can't do that to me!"
It came as a sudden realization what exactly had occurred. I laid down on the ground, laughing breathlessly. The Wolf approached me and I sat up, still a little wary. There was only a small amount of distance between us.
"You can't do that to me," I reiterated softly with a small chuckle. There was a long silence between us before I reached out slowly and carefully. He growled slightly and I retracted my hand quickly. I waited a moment before throwing my arms around his neck with a laugh. He snapped at the air, more as an instinct, I thought.
"Oh, shut up," I teased him.
Again, I began spending hours on end in the woods. The Wolf and I became nearly inseparable, but I never spoke a word about him to anyone. I knew what would happen if I did. I didn't want to lose the only friend I had ever had because for the first time in my life, I was happy.
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Come To An End
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He laid curled around me and I laid with my head on his stomach, looking to the stars. We often spent nights like this before I had to begrudgingly drag myself home. I would talk about my day, my dreams, my fears and he would listen. Then we would sit in silence. And it was my favorite part of my day. But this was the night everything we go to shit.
"Honey? Dear? Where are you?"
"Shit..." I mumbled as I jumped to my feet. The Wolf started to growl softly.
"I didn't bring them, I swear. I wouldn't do that." His growling increased slightly as he got to his feet.
"I'm not lying. Now, go. Go!"
I tried to look as innocent as possible as my parents pushed through the brush in front of me.
"Oh, thank goodness! We were so worried, dear. Someone said they saw a wolf out here," my mother wrapped her arms around me.
"Yeah, a real big, nasty one," my father added, scanning the area.
"Wow, that sounds terrifying. We should leave. Now." I started toward the town, pulling my mother along. She stood firmly, grabbing my arm.
"You haven't seen anything like that, have you, sweetie?"
"Of course not, mom. I would have definitely said something if I had, wouldn't I?"
"Well, I just don't know with you, dear. You have this whole... nature thing going on. You used to tell me how you'd talk to the animals."
"Well, I don't do that anymore. Let's go." There was a rustle in the bushes and I pushed my parents along even harder.
"What was that?" My father asked raising an axe that I hadn't seen before.
"Nothing! It's nothing. Let's go."
"Wait, I see it! There!" My mother shouted, pointing into the darkness.
"No!" I tried to step in front of him but my mother caught hold of my wrist and held it tightly.
"Stay there," my father added gruffly, walking toward the noise. I broke from my mother's grasp, running toward him. He turned on his heels, landing a hard slap to my face.
"Why don't you ever fucking listen? I said stay. there." I opened my mouth to warn him, but it was too late. The Wolf took advantage of the distraction and jumped for my father. He pushed me aside roughly - whether it was for my safety or not was uncertain - swinging wildly at the air as the Wolf snapped and tore at him. It was too late to do anything. The Wolf was determined.
My mother screamed for help, backed against a tree as the Wolf approached. Sore, I stumbled in between them. I didn't want this. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.
"Don't do this!"
He lunged for my mother and I stepped in between them. His teeth found my arm, sinking deep into my skin before he could realize what had happened.
"This is your fault! You killed your father! You killed me!" I could hear my mother screaming frantically but I was far too dizzy to focus on her. I stumbled sideways before falling down, unconscious. When I awoke, I was beside my parents, soaked in their blood. I couldn't hardly remember what happened. I didn't even remember my name. So they called me Red.
I lived with my grandmother following the murder of my parents. She was certain he was after me. She told me stories of how she would watch the Wolf pace round and round the house as I slept. I didn't believe her in the slightest. Every child had a horror story that their parents told them to prevent them from going out at night and I had lived through one. I didn't need my grandmother's imagination.
I was running late that night. The bakery was across town and someone had come in at the last minute with a large order. I should've listened. All the stories, the things I had seen... I had grown ignorant over the years. If I was there, maybe I could've have stopped it.
There was blood everywhere. It was all too familiar. The trail lead to her room. I followed it for a moment, walking cautiously. I had to see it. I had to be certain. Suddenly, the Wolf darted past with a man immediately behind, axe in hand. Neither took notice of me as I jumped out of the way. The memories came flooding back in waves.
The struggle was short-lived. The man sliced and cut at the Wolf with the axe. I screamed and begged for him to stop. But only when he was finished did he seem to finally see me. I struggled to find my voice, trying to wipe the sight from my memory. I stood silently, staring at the Wolf.
He told me his wonderful tale of heroism, how he was just strolling by and heard the sounds of a struggle, how he was just barely too late. I had to get away from it, from the Wolf, from the blood. I had to return to my sanctuary. I hurried out the door, ignoring the shouts from the man that had identified himself as the Woodsman.
My rapid steps quickly transitioned into a sprint. I couldn't think. I couldn't stop. I ran for what had felt like forever. I ran until my legs refused to cooperate any longer and I collapsed in the woods. Finally, the tears could run freely and I could mourn in peace. I didn't want anyone's sympathies. I just wanted peace.
A rustle in the bushes roused me from my sobs. I caught sight of the creature. I couldn't believe it. I surely thought he was dead. It was him, the Wolf. I wiped my eyes and stumbled to my feet. Surely, this was it. The Wolf would finally get what he so desperately wanted.
Blood was such a common sight, that the red in the snow hardly was as bright to my eyes as it used to be. The trail lead me to him, but he was different - a man with claws and glowing eyes, naked and bleeding. I was angry, terrified, confused but still my steps continued steadily toward him.
"I didn't know you were..." The surprise was clear in my voice.
His gaze snapped to me and he let out a deep growl. There was a certain numbness that propelled me forward, an unusual desire to expedite the inevitable. He tried to stand up but his body wouldn't allow it quite yet.
"I hate you, you know."
My voice carried no emotion as I stared down the Wolf. I was just a few feet from his reach. His panting filled the silence between us as I continued to approach. He swiped at the air which evidently caused him a lot of pain to do.
"I hate you a lot. Just as much as you hate me."
I untied my my riding hood and pulled it off of my shoulders.
"Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I am as stupid as they say I am."
Now within reach, his claws cut at my leg. As the pain jolted through my body, I clenched my jaw and fell to the ground beside him. It stung and burned but it appeared to hurt him a lot more than it hurt me. As I stared him down, it appeared that he had given up fighting and accepted his fate.
"I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I should kill you after all you've done. Then, I would be a hero."
I tore a strip from my cloak, using it to gently wipe the dirt and blood from his face. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks but I made no effort to hide them.
"I hate you," I said softly over and over as I did my best to tend to his wounds. When I was finished, I stared at him a moment. I reached out and cupped his cheek, gently running my thumb along a cut under his eye then I stood up silently, sending a burst of pain running up my leg.
"Don't ever come back, Wolf."
I walked into the woods without even a glance back. Once again, I was alone.
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allizae
New Member
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_05/yona.png.f058867922d18d79088ff50af5241b3e.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="123945" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_05/yona.png.f058867922d18d79088ff50af5241b3e.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_05/pocahontas.png.76a9f932e78f6f722b515a8bacf4326b.png" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="123947" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_05/pocahontas.png.76a9f932e78f6f722b515a8bacf4326b.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
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Character Name: Yona Sokanon Locklear
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Fable
Further Role Info: Pocahontas
- Personality
- Yona Sokanon (Dawn Rainstorm) Locklear is a stubborn, angry, and rather harsh individual toward people. She has a side to her that's light and love-filled, but she saves that for the animals. She's not aware of what her story is, but all she knows is how she feels. She feels a large sense of inequity and injustice. She tends to be outgoing and willing to share her opinions, but at the same time she's a free spirit and tends, lately, to not be very romantically inclined.
- Background
- Yona is the owner of a greyhound rescue set up in the town. She spends a lot of time tending to the 10 dogs she currently houses. She likes to go on runs, and she's remarkably good at archery. She knows that she's of Native decent, but she doesn't know from what tribe, or any of her tribal background. The shroud that covers her real life story is not something she's even vaguely aware of.
- Extra
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Favorite song: Miss Independent - Kelly Clarkson
Favorite color: Teal - Appearance
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<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_05/yona2.gif.32eebcd2472e7dfb0e6c6b1ace192905.gif" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="123952" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_05/yona2.gif.32eebcd2472e7dfb0e6c6b1ace192905.gif" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
- What's my Story?
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In the years before the first American settlement formed, the Powhatan Tribe encountered people of a different race, with a different language, and a different culture. Born Matoaka, curious and young, she obtained the nickname Pocahontas (meaning spoiled one) when she went against her father Wahunsonacock's orders and started wondering closer and closer to the strange people's settlement. At only 11, she met a abrasive man named John Smith. He was a story teller, and after he gave her a brief understanding of the English language, he told her that he just wanted to know more about her culture. Working as a liaison between Smith and her tribe, Smith was treated well, but eventually shunned for his abrasive and offensive nature.
Years after this encounter, Pocahontas who was versed in English and a little bit in international policy, she worked with a man named John Rolfe while in English, who became smitten with her. Pocahontas was not interested in this arrangement, and she ran away to a boat back to her home. Saving herself from a lifetime of a culture that she did not grow up in at 22, Pocahontas became the first female chief of the Powhatan Tribe, and continues to flourish without a spouse or children.
Attachments
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Mayhem
aka. Giant Dork
Name - Aleksandra Dvornikov (aka. Sasha)
Gender - Female
Age - 23
Mundane or Fable - Fable (Granddaughter of Baba Yaga)
Story -
Sadly, in comparison to other fable's stories, Aleksandra was barely the protagonist of her's. Everybody knows the true star was always her grandmother: Baba Yaga. A powerful and legendary witch who ate children, made sketchy deals, traveled around in a chicken-legged hut, and who was always either the villain or the benefactor of the story (usually the villain). Among all of this, Aleksandra was no more than an extra in a story that was always bigger than her: the little girl sweeping the floor or watching over the cauldron. Not that she ever complained (not out loud at least), instead...she learned. Grasping every speck of knowledge that reached her (from a grandmother that was as fickle and volatile as the wind) she soon came to have enough power to hold her own ground, and call herself a witch. Which she did. After a while she learned the price people were willing to pay for a bit of power, she finally understood why her grandmother thrived even though her name was only spoke in hushed whispers. It turned out magic was always on demand. Crafting curses, selling hexes in dark alleyways, and brewing potions in exchange on coin Aleksandra slowly started getting a taste of the trade.
Personality:
Aside from the fact she longer has the power to intimidate people with the threat of a hex, Aleksandra personality has remained almost unchanged. She is an outspoken and confident girl...some might even call her a bit "crass". She isn't afraid of drawing attention to herself, and she doesn't worry about what other people think of her. Her personality is playful and sneaky and she likes talking in riddles, perhaps taking joy in allowing people to figure things out by themselves. Her moral compass is faulty at most since she has proven to feel completely unaffected by the chaos and pain she can sometimes cause, however (in an aspect that has DEFINITELY changed from how she used to be) from time to time she will take pity and try help others (“try” being the key word). Deep down she is capable of kindness, clumsy as it might be. Once a scheming witch who tricked her victims into making deals with her, she isnt exactly dishonest as she does give people exactly what she promises, even though it isn't what they have in mind.
Bio/History -
Back in the old days, when the phrase "in a faraway kingdom" was still a thing, Alessandra was just a child when her grandmother took her under her wing, both because she saw promise in the young girl…and because she kinda needed someone to keep the chicken-legged-hut clean.
Aleksandra, always an ambitious girl, never questioned the sketchy transaction in which she was given away, and despite the rocky relationship which she maintained with her babushka she was always eager to learn (whether it was brewing poisons, crafting curses, or just luring small children to their demise…you know, the usual witch stuff.)
However in this new world Aleksandra found herself in an unexpected and yet fitting spot: a small coffee shop. Now, instead of watching over bubbling pots filled with strange potions, she serves hot coffee and all kinds of pastries, instead of luring innocent passerbies into buying a hex or two, she convinces people into spending a few more dollars on extra cream. It's a new and strange kind of witchcraft all together.
Strengths -
-Magical knowledge (Once she actually gets her memories back)
-Quite cunning and ruthless
-Ambitious
-Knows how to be charming and get what she wants
-Despite the odds she can be quite nice and sweet sometimes
-Makes a mean cup of coffee and tea
Weaknesses -
-Fucking loves money, but is constantly loosing it
-Her constant scheming never ends well (See above)
-Hot tempered and too sarcastic for her own good
-Can’t handle authority
-Cant keep her mouth shut (constantly makes inappropriate jokes)
-Uses the "left something in the oven" excuse far too much
Other Info -
-Speaks with a slight russian accent.
-Has several tattoos.
Writing Example
She feels the woman's bitterness and anger like a palpable thing in the air, but she doesn't question it nor does she tries to understand it...that's just not her job. Instead she carefully looks around, making sure no one in the empty old street is looking at them. "Follow me" she says as she leads the woman to the back of the alleyway. Aleksandra grabs her bag and carefully retrieves a folded piece of paper from it, watching the woman's face crisp in anticipation. "Will this work? Will this make her pay?" The woman asks breathlessly "She cheated on me you know..." She starts to explain, and Aleksandra can feel guilt join the other emotions wafting around the woman like a sticky perfume.
"Write her name in this piece of paper, and burn it at midnight" She explains, deciding to ignore the woman's words. Aleksandra reaches into her pocket, and retrieves the small blade she always carries around. The woman quickly steps back and Aleksandra can't help but smirk a bit "Don't worry...it's not for you" She explains before she makes a small cut in her finger, pressing the wound till three small drops of blood soak the paper. From there, the exchange becomes silent. The woman's hands shake as she grabs the folded paper, and Aleksandra can almost feel her fingers burning as she grabs the money. The feeling black magic leaves in her fingers, she's used to it by now.
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Mayhem
aka. Giant Dork
Name - Nicholas Rieu (aka. Charming)
Age - 25
Gender - Male
Fable or Mundane - Prince Charming
Story -
It seems pointless to tell a story almost everybody knows. Prince Charming? He fought the dragon, climbed to the highest tower and saved the princess. What more can be said? Maybe that he's the biggest most useless brat in the history of Fables? Probably yes. Nicholas Rieu (aka. Prince Charming) had everything back in the "good old days": the fame, the princess, the gold and the castle (and since he was royalty everybody ignored his MANY shortcomings).
Sadly things have changed in the Mundane World where all that's left for him is a bank account quickly dwindling, a ridiculous amount of charm that does no go, and a set of "princely" skills he can't even remember.
So it's easy to say, the transition to the modern world hasn't been easy or smooth for the prince, both because he lost the all comfort he’s used to…and because he’s practically useless. So he keeps himself busy by: a) looking for a job b) getting fired from said job c) then repeating the whole process.
Personality -
Nicholas was born with a “silver spoon in mouth”, surrounded by every kind of comfort and luxury…which sadly did not much for his personal growth. Always cocky and nonchalant Nicholas never learned when to shut up (mostly because no one ever said no to him) and despite the fact his parents were always “paragons of goodness” Nicholas instead focused his attention on becoming an opportunist rogue and a womaniser.
However, despite the cool exterior he always tries to project Nicholas is not all he seems to be. When people get to know him he turns out to be quite clumsy and abstenminded and sometimes even comes off as lovable and sweet…which hints to the fact that maybe he did inherit some goodness. All you have to do is look really REALLY close.
Strengths -
-An endless supply of charm (…both his downfall and his greatest strength)
-Quite determined and brave when he chooses
-Is really good with swords
-Basically anything a prince grows up learning (sword fighting, dancing, horse riding etc) but that is basically fucking useless in the modern world
-Actually quite thoughtful and sweet when he cares about someone
Weaknesses -
-He's not the brightest crayon in the box
-Cant get (or keep) a job
-Womanizer
-Cant handle commitment
-Breaks down in front of responsibility
-Has no sense of self preservation
-Grew up having everything, so he never developed a sense of ambition
Other Info -
-Spends his days lounging around in coffee shops and bars "looking for a job".
Writing Example -
When Adrien woke up his hand instantly made it’s way toward his nightstand, almost as if to grab something…a chiming golden something. But when his hand only collided with his cheap alarm clock he groaned softly, and he had to remind himself for the 5th time that this was it…a shitty alarm clock, on top of a shitty nightstand, in a shitty apartment. This was his life, and there was nothing golden in here.
After 20 minutes he finally managed to get up, and after 30 more minutes he got dressed. Cause despite his current situation (aka. being half broke) Adrien still devoted a ridiculous amount of time in his appearance. He called it a “marketing strategy”, one that had actually helped him get girls instead of an actual JOB...but you wouldn't hear him complaining about THAT.
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