Multiple Settings It is me! The Bee, would u like 2 RP?

[Terrier B]

Ahaha, see what I did there, it rhymes

My name's Bee!
And I have returned after many a week of doing bugger all else really.
And this is basically the space where I'm gonna advertise myself to you I suppose!​

Here are some writing samples if you're wondering what my writing is like,

Spoiler: A Morning in the Snack Shack

Surprisingly for him, the day had started off badly.

For a cruel change of pace, instead of getting to decide that the day had been bad for him once it was done and over with, that particular morning had brought him nothing but headaches, and an overwhelming sense of heavy fatigue right from the get go. But alas, he still needed to work. Despite all the arguments he might make against such a way of life on a better day, Eide still found himself having to rely on the use and trade of money to obtain goods and services. How boringly capitalistic of him. But weed did not just grow on trees for free, they usually cost about $10 a bag instead. Therefore, a job was needed. But by God, why had he ever agreed to this one. The hell-scape of the disgustingly cheesy store that lay before him had become seemingly too much for the man to bear. As he currently sat at his appointed station behind the till, head laid down heavily upon the countertop, long hair splayed around him like a sort of scruffy hobo-halo.

He was alone in the store, and save for the brief early-morning rush, it'd been a quiet and unmemorable morning so far. The song playing over the in-store speaker system changed over to its next royalty-free track, sounding just as, if not more, inanely bland as the last one. With surely more effort that it must have genuinely taken to do so, Tillman lifted his head up off of the counter, and through blood shot eyes, considered his dietary choices for the morning. Upon the counter top was a brief collection of small pocket-sized grab bags.

Hmm, lets see, what offers were we flogging today...

One from the 'Snack 2 School' deal perhaps?
Or maybe a offering from the 'Buy one, get one (Sugar) free' offer?
Or the simple underdog option of some 'CRONCHERS'

That'd do.

Midway through his 'breakfast', the little overhead bell rang, dictating a customers entrance. Jan stood half in, half out of the Snack-Pack, stubbing out the butt of her cigarette on the exterior wall before coming in completely. She scoffed and grinned upon seeing the cryptid-like creature that sat behind the counter, "Ugh God. Is that really a Snack-Pack approved uniform?" She was referring to the fact that the man currently sat there in a un-ironed suit jacket being held together by a singular button that was holding on for dear life, with no shirt on underneath . Eide crunched a CRONCH(ER) bitterly and pointed an accusing finger her way,

"You shut your mouth you little Oik. Besides, I'm still wearing the name tag," (It was pinned on sideways to his right lapel), "As long as I've got this bad boy on, it's all good."
Janny scuffed her shoes vaguely on the welcome mat before stuffing her hands into her coat pockets and meandering her way down the closest aisle. He tilted this way and that to try and keep track of her as she weaved through the store. As you may be able to imahine for yourself however, Eide's patience was in no way built for endurance. He sson gave up and stabbed at the big red button that projected his voice over the tannoy system, "You know, there's a large sign on the front door that says 'NO DELINQUIENTS' in big bold capital letters with wide spaces and everything so even people with your intellect can read it clearly," From somewhere in the vague direction of the toiletries aisle came a distinct "Oh piss off,"

Standing up on her tiptoes, Janny raised her head over the shelf, "I need a knife," there was a brief yet apparent silence.

Eide blinked, "I beg your pardon,".

Janny frowned at him, "You heard, a knife!"

He couldn't quite believe what she was saying truth be told, "There have been not one, not two, but three grizzly and gruesome murders in this town in the last few weeks with the culprit still on the loose, and you walk into my store, wanting to buy a knife?"

Janny just shrugged, "Yeah." Unimpressed by his impression of a surprised Goldfish, she continued her search without his help. The best she could find was a small set of weird brightly coloured rubbery ones meant for either children, or a Hipster that was really into Neon, but they'd have to do for the time being. Eide was still seemingly aghast as she made her way back to the front counter, luckily though, he'd managed to remember how to close his gob. He held the rubber knives in his hand for a moment before swiping them through the till, "Should I be calling the cops or something here?"

Once again, Janny simply shrugged, "Nah, no need. They're coming over to the bakery later anyway. Or some investigator man is or whatever. Gonna interview us and everything apparently. This shit's wild man..."

Tillman stopped dead still, "You're kidding me."

The girl sighed and leaned against the counter casually, her eyes glazed over the ceiling as she spoke, "There's this intern that joined up a few weeks ago, just about when it all started kicking off. So that's enough reason for suspicion I guess." She turned and pocketed her items, "Anyway, they came in a day or so ago and removed anything and everything that could possibly used as a weapon, but alas," She shoved the change across to him, "At the end of the day, I still need something to cut up my Nuts." And with that final childish remark, she was gone.

Spoiler: Assisting a Lord

Pigeon had just finished securing his Greaves. Not particularly the heaviest piece of armour, but always the fiddliest, the intricate laces forever demanded concentration. Mind you, far better managed with two pairs of hands instead of one. Oh, that reminds her... Not wanting to forget, she pottered off to collect Rylens Joust. Such a silly looking thing, she couldn't help but wonder if they ever actually got used in real combat. UGH. GODS. Unlikely when it's THIS heavy! Good grief. Heavier still in all this heat.

The girl set it down with a huff, wiping the sweat off her brow with one hand as she removed the protective leather case with the other. Her Jerkin felt heavy and stuffy in this weather. Truth be told she didn't really pack much appropriate attire for this sort of heat. But then again, she'd never dreamed in all her life a place could ever possibly be this warm, let alone has she ever thought she'd one day be able to visit such a place.

"Pigeon?"

Duty calls. She looked up, a pleasant smile gracing her features, "Hmm?" Ah. The straps. She couldn't help but smile a little to herself as she made her way over. He looked just a little bit silly reaching like that. With effortless ease, Pigeon began to secure and strap the young Harper fully into his makeshift metallic prison. She was quiet as she got on with her work, for the most part, she hummed a little here and there but that was about it. Looking up however, she noted Rylens countenance. There was a soft but persistent furrow in his brow, a gentle frown plastered across his face.

She spoke with an acutely casual tone, nothing but genuine friendliness coming across in her manner, "I think you'll do quite well today M'lord. All things considered." She pulled the last strap to with a firm tug and tied it into a neat little knot. Reaching for his equipment, she continued, "I've seen a few of the other Noble Sons as I've been busying about the place you see, and trust me, they're far more here wimpish than you."

...Wait. That didn't come out right. She frowned and gave her head a small quick shake, before smiling again in what she hoped was an ultimately reassuring manner. "I'd say, just try and do the best for yourself M'lord. Go and get a result that you can take pride in. Well, you and your gawky little Aid here. Be rather nice if I could go about and say, 'I'm the person who fastened that breastplate don't you know!'... Plus, I've got a good few bob bet on you..."

These are the type of Genres I'm into:

• Fantasy! - I mean c'mon. You can't beat dragons and swords and peasants and stuff, ammirite.
• Sci-Fi - I'm not particularly well versed in it, but IMO, it's fantasy with technology, so what's not to like about it.
  Romance - I am a sucker for a GOOD love story so yeah. I hate cheesy crap though. I'm cool with whatever pairing too! But I will be honest, I am most at home with M/F because I am boring ()
• Fandom - But only kind of I suppose? I don't mind making a story within a pre-existing universe that has lots of other room for additional stories to take place in, but I'm not too keen on re-canonising something, or playing as someone else's pre-existing characters. So for example, I'm down to create a LOTR Story, but I don't wanna play as a bad-ass Frodo who actually doesn't fall over all the time.

With regards to all genres and areas I like, a favourite thing to do of mine os to approach it from a bit of a different angle? I like to be original and interesting. So say, with a Western for example, I might suggest we try out a story that's from the POV of characters that aren't inherently American, but still after that good Ol' Manifest Destiny.
Just trying conventional and known story ideas out, but from a slightly different view point, if you get me.


This is the sort of thing I'm looking for myself in a partner:

• Response Time - I can play a lil fast and loose with this tbh. If you need to take a break for something, or just wanna ghost for a while, I don't mind. I'd just like that, if we're clearly in a good flow with something if you could give a lil heads up whenever you need to dip out or what have you.
• Quality - You can gage for yourself from my samples above if the level I write to is something you vibe with or not. I think I'd like our style's and qualities to match a little, but honestly as long as you can write legibly and provide responses of at least one or two paragraphs per go I'm cool. Just no one liners or single sentence responses please
• I live in GMT Timezone, so I'll be active according to that more or less.
• A big thing for me I suppose is character, as you can already probably tell a bit from below. Obviously, character requirements vary widely on the RP in question. But I personally just quite like really in-depth characters? Someone with quirks, who is clearly original and interesting. This might come across as a little vague, but hopefully I'm getting across what I mean. If not ask me about it and we can have a natter, ahah.

And now finally onto the good stuff, ideas and characters I already have in mind:

Disclaimer: So sometimes, I don't have as clear an idea for a story specifically, but more ideas revolving around characters I really want to use. SO some of the below are distinct story ideas, and some are characters I would really like to use and build a story around, if that makes sense, ahah.

Signy Oydis - Some good old fashioned Royalty, Redemption and Revolution.

So here is the character I have in mind for this one:
(The names of her Native country are just stand ins atm, as she was initially created for another RP that has since run dry)

Spoiler: Signy Oydis

Signy Oydis

Although not really part of her official title, She uses her Mothers original surname ‘Oydis’, to somewhat distance herself from the royal family, and all that follows with it.


Nickname: Very close family and friends sometimes call her 'Sigs', but its usage is in truth, a rarity.
Gender: All woman babey
Age: 22
Role + Title: Lieutenant-General of the Evandish Cavalry.
The Oldest Child of the King of Evandish’s youngest brother, Prince Ilya.
Although rather far away from ever claiming the Evandish Throne herself, Signy is still technically a Princess. However, she always personally uses, and in all honestly just prefers, her military title.
Kingdom: Evandish.

Appearance:

One of these images in an official profile commissioned by Signy's Mothers, the other is a sketch done by her friend one night while she was drunk off of her arse after having fallen from a horse. I'll let you guess which is which...

Signy’s the type of person who you immediately notice walk into the room, be that for better or worse. She’s a very tall girl, standing at around 6’2 (and an inch taller than that in her regalia boots!). If she was shorter she’d perhaps look wider, but luckily for her, her height allows her muscle to evenly spread out, making her appearance seem relatively lithe and slender. But don’t but fooled, you’d certainly feel a punch from her and be sore about it in the morning.
Regarding facial features, she’s definitely more akin to her Mother than her Father. Well, that's what he says anyway... Her skin is pale, freckled and dappled with the occasional blemish. Signy’s hair is that rather distinct shade of very very dark brown that appears almost black in all other lighting. It curls a little when wet, but otherwise falls in soft lazy waves. Her eyes, a hazy green-ish blue in colour, are sharp, narrow and intensely piercing. She’s worn down a few old battered Colonels with just that stare of hers, honestly, puts the shivers right up you.

Attire:
Sigs reverts to her casuals whenever she can get away with it, and is rarely seen in anything too grand. When the occasion finally arises where she absolutely has to wear something fancier, she opts to wear her military finery to Royal functions. And although she’d never publicly admit to it, she can't help but feel a small glimmer of pride when wearing her Military regalia.
Her Official Military Regalia, Her 'Cozy' Casuals,

Personality:
You would never guess Signy to be a member of the Evandish Royal Family upon a first meeting, even one as low down on the pecking order as she is. For the girl is a bold, outspoken, resolute sort, accommodating none of the usual even-tempered decorum a Royal Family Member usually possesses. She freely speaks her mind on any and all matters, and will not withhold her opinion for any reason. While some may see this as an admirable demeanour, let me tell you, it makes her a right nuisance when she does have to be dragged out to a Royal Function. This outspoken brashness sometimes comes off as cold, and impersonal to some, but Signy simply sees it as truthfulness. She rarely ever lies, for she sees no point in doing so. Why should she hold back her tongue to save another's pride?
As any good Soldier should be, the girl is Stern too, I'd advise you not to try and fool her, or pull the wool over her eyes. But then again, don’t let that firm nature fool you completely, I swear she can have fun when she wants to. Signy’s a witty sort, despite all the other general matter-of-fact-ness. The girl’s as sharp with her words as she is with her Sword.

Skills:

• Excellent Horsemen: I mean, somewhat expected of a Lt. General of the Cavalry I suppose.
• Trained Farrier: While not a needed requirement for all Cavaliers, Signy thought it best she be trained and knowledgeable in how to adequately care for, what is arguably, her most valued piece of kit.
• Keen Swords-Woman: She personally favours a Longsword, yet wields a Short-sword too, but apparently it’s only for “Just in cases,”
• Hunter Gatherer: Her family often went on hunting trips way way up and away in the Mountain Valleys. Being gone for days at a time like this required the skills and knowledge of how to survive off of the land.

Strengths:

• Proudly Evandish: While Signy holds little loyalty to the idea of Royalty, she is a perfect Lt. General and Soldier for one very good reason; She truly loves her country. The people, the culture, the landscapes, the whole kit and caboodle. Mock the Royal name and she’ll probably laugh right along with you, but make fun of her country only if you feel comfortable picking up your own teeth off of the floor.
• Military Strategist: Unlike a lot of other Royals and Nobles, Sigs well and truly earned her rank, despite her young age. Some people are born artists or musicians, but Signy was a born Strategist. Her mettle has been proven countless times now, and even the other seniors of the Evandish War Council cannot doubt the girls ability.
• Daring: In both day to day life as well as on the battle-field. Signy’s naturally valiant nature is what has largely gotten her to where she stands today. Although seen as risky by others, Sigs is willing to say what others are unwilling to, to do what everyone else is too afraid to.

Weaknesses:

• Reckless: As much a blessing as it is a curse. Her drive to be nothing but absolutely fearless in any pursuit can sometimes lead to disaster. Luckily for her, it’s been nothing too tumultuous yet, but all it takes is the wrong word here, a move too quick there, and her whole career could come crashing down around her.
• Short-Tempered: Signy is not, exactly, a patient sort of person. Keep her waiting too long and her foot will start tapping, an eyebrow will start twitching, or she may just up and leave altogether. That’s happened a few times before now...

Sexuality: Straight (?) (Bi, perhaps?)
There have been these uhh, rumours, you see..

Open to romance?:
I suppose? Uh, I've never heard her deny such a thing,

Family + Public Opinion: Her Father is Prince Ilya, the youngest brother of the current King of Evandish.
Her Mother is a woman named Olga Oydis, a Noble hailing from the far The Rodina Mountain Borders of Evandish.
Signy is the oldest of three children, having a younger brother (Petyr), and a baby sister (Portia).
She gets on fairly well with her more majorly Royal Cousins, although she only sees them occasionally throughout the year.

Signy's proven herself in battle a number of times now, yet remains fully aware that despite her current lucky streak, her only experience of war has been internal, and on a small scale at that. In spite of this though, the Evander public have a generally positive opinion of the woman, although admitedly those closer to the capital know a lot less about her than they do her more prominent and closer Royal Cousins.
In turn, she's held in far higher esteem throughout The Rodina, where she is very much a hometown hero.

History:
Signy’s Father, Prince Ilya, never had too much expected of him, to a degree of course. As a primary member of the Evandish Royal family, of course there was a reputation he was expected to maintain, but otherwise his life was his own to lead. Sensible enough to understand the particular hand life had dealt him, Ilya very much seized this opportunity. He ventured out on a long and expansive tour of Evandish in his youth, travelling to every corner of his country. The endeavour literally took years, for there was no inch of Evandish Ilya wished to remain unseen. His party was small, and the cost of the journey was relatively nil, as the company survived primarily off of their own efforts. This, and the sheer exhaustiveness of the tour greatly strengthened and improved the general public’s opinion of the Royal Family, and more specifically Ilya himself.

The venture finally began drawing to a close as Ilya and his party neared the far Mountain Border territories. This area of Evander is begrudgingly called The 'Rodina', and is commonly believed to be the first part of Evander to ever be settled. While often icy and snowed under, the geography there is more Tundra-like than straight out artic. For around three months a year, the plains are green and blooming, but otherwise the weather isn't exactly, beachy. Since quite a reasonable distance away from the Evander capital, and any other larger, more urbanised towns and cities, the tribes and villages of The Rodina have become semi-self-governed. The majority of these groups still respect and generally adhere to the Monarchy's word, a handful of outspoken rebel rousers occasionally break off and away, but they're always eventually reined back in.

Whatever your opinion of the weather or the people though, one thing remains undeniable, the country is beautiful there, the landscape almost always picturesque. Upon his visit, Prince Ilya grew to love the place dearly, especially when a certain young Lady belonging to a family of minor nobility caught his eye. Although Olga was perhaps not as wellborn as the Royal Family would have liked, the fact that Ilya was the youngest, and more importantly willing to marry someone at all, the union was allowed. A proud Born and bred woman of The Rodina, the Oydis family goes back hundreds and hundreds of years. There are even rumours the family are descendants of those ancient early settlers.

The marriage between Ilya and Olga was one born from genuine love and affection, and further sealed with the promise of a possible end to any future strife between the Evander Royals and the occasional Rebellious Rodina's. And thus, Signy was brought into the world. Her Mother and Father chose to raise their children primarily in the Mountain territories, although visits to the Capital and their Royal cousins were quite regular. It’s most likely this somewhat ordinary upbringing contributed heavily into Signy’s opinion of her family’s, as well as her own, Royal Title. Her childhood passed with otherwise unremarkable familiarity. It was (inevitably) Signy’s teenage years where life began to change.

Her predominant nature, while just a humorous trait during infancy, now made itself known strongly in adolescent hot-headed-ness. She was quick and easy to anger, she argued with her siblings frequently, and at times, and would even leave the family home for days at a time. Prince Ilya, while a reasonable enough sort otherwise, is not a particularly patient man (like Father, like Daughter,) and grew swiftly tired of Signy’s teenage antics. Olga on the other hand, had a rather good idea of what her daughter was in need of.

Per his wifes suggestion, Ilya began taking Signy to discussions at the War-Table. While not a majorly conflicted country, Evandish had been struggling with small locally led skirmishes along the Mountain Border. Ancient tribes battled with each other, and occasionally against the crown. While never growing into anything too dangerous, it was still a matter that needed regular attention. And so Signy’s military career began. With an already likened mind to it, as well as a passionate internal drive to improve, she rose through the ranks quite quickly.

Horses suited her, and she enjoyed the particular quirks and talents the Cavalry offered. She has tested her mettle in battle a number of times now, certainly enough to prove herself worthy of her rank.

Other:

Polkan & Misha
I should make something clear rather quickly, Polkan is a Evandish Horse, and that means he is an absolute giant of a creature. Which is suitable when considering the height of his rider I suppose... Tall, broad and strong, these horses are chosen to be used in the Cavalry for good reason, let me tell you.

Misha is one of, and arguably her true favourite if he’s the only one she’s brought along to this thing, Signy’s (many) dogs. A Borzoi, his appearance suggests an air of noble aloofness seemingly fitting to a member of the royal family. But to be truthful, he’s a strange, gangly peculiarity of a dog, goodness knows what Signy sees in it...

Trivia:

• Her favourite colour is (Specifically) Burnt Orange
• Is awful with anything to do with hair. Can’t braid it herself at all, and honestly struggles with a pony-tail.
• Is an absolute secret sucker for Adventure and Hero stories, but don’t tell her that I told you that
• Big Dog person, I believe she has about seven back at home, luckily she’s only brought the one along with her this time.

Signy is a tough cookie, but a loyal friend.

With regards to a story involving Signy, I have in mind something to do with Revolution and overthrowing a Nasty old monarch. As you can see from her CS, she's royalty herself, but with a slight twist. She's absolute eons away from ever inheriting the throne herself, and is generally considered as an outlier by the main chunk of the Royal Family. A story with her would involve clashing against her own flesh and blood, and having to make the choice between family and what is right. Juicy stuff like that.

Signy is a character open for: Romance, Rivalry, Friendship, and Family.



Murder Dad - A.K.A. Tahib Nashad

Again, a Char originally intended for elsewhere, so all place names and existing organisations are widely changeable.

Spoiler: Tahib Nashad

Nickname: Tabby', more a undeniable occurrence than a nickname really.
Gained from his often misheard, and then mispronounced Shaharanian name. If you were to actually call him Tabby to his face, you've either got to be one of two things, either very very brave, or one of those increasingly rare people who happen to call the man friend.

Age: 33

Place of Origin: Shaharanian, through and through.
To be more specific, he was born along the South-Eastern Coast.

Clan: The Tajul, (Former Member)
Tajul means 'Wandering Crown' in old Shaharanian. The clans people are referred to as 'Tajuli'.
The Tajul Clan is an ever wandering nomadic group, never staying in one location for more than a month or two. That said, their personal Clan preference is to stick too the South-Eastern coast and bottom border of their country, thriving off of the more abundant greenery that manages to survive in that cozy little corner.
As most clans of the Shaharan do, the Tajuli govern themselves according to their own rules and policies.

Profession / General Way of Survival: Now an exclusive Assassin for Hire, not associated or connected with the Te'i Sai, but he does still keep in regular contact with a number of Assassin Guilds. Well, the ones that haven't kicked him out yet anyway...

Appearance:

He's a tall lad is our Tahib, lithe too, standing at around 5'8 on his tippiest-tip-toes. He is recognizably Shaharanian, with tanned skin and dark hair. Said hair is kept long-ish, I suppose. But, ever a pragmatist, it's mainly kept up and away out of his face. Make's me wonder why he bothers keeping it long at all actually...
Surprisingly, he does have a singular tattoo, of all things, a delicate symbol that supposedly represents the Tajuli. It's on the back of his left shoulder, the perfect place for your one and only tattoo, somewhere you're never going to see it. Otherwise, and I suppose as you may expect for a man in his particular line of work, Tahib carries more than a few scars and blemishes, all reminders of calls that were perhaps just a bit too close, but all learning curves either way. Luckily for him, in all his years he's only managed to gain one on his face, a classic eyebrow scar, that runs down over his left eye and finishes just above his cheek. Not too bad for fifteen odd years in the business I suppose. Speaking of his face, it is rather striking, with the eyes in particular being the most distinctive feature. It's often what will attract people's attention first, and stay in their heads for the longest. His eyes are dark, deep things, that seem to hold your gaze in a increasingly strange and peculiar way the longer one looks into them. Hidden deep deep within does lie the glimmer of something... maybe, mischief? or perhaps even, sorrow? It's hard to tell initially, but they sure do make you wonder.

Attire + Notable Equipment:
Tahib's naturally slim build lends itself perfectly to quick and light manoeuvrability. He therefore prefers an Armour set that compliments and allows such free and fluid movement. With his current arrangement, all his vitals are covered of course, but he otherwise strives to remain unencumbered. As for weaponry, Tahib favours a short-bow over its longer, heftier cousin, carries a handful of arrows in a quiver worn at the hip, and is otherwise a man of simple tastes when it comes to handheld weaponry. A sword will suit him just fine if push comes to shove, but in truth, a dagger in each hand is his favourite way of getting a job done.

Not exactly a sentimentalist, Tahib carries basic equipment and only a handful of personal affects. Such as:
- A portable Whetstone, not much bigger than a hand, carved into a slightly oddly proportioned figurine. He claims he is not the carver, quite adamantly in fact...
- A lock of hair, tied with a neat ribbon, and kept safely in a small cloth pouch. This pouch is often kept very close to his person, right over the heart in fact.
- Tahib co-owns a Falcon with his brother who still remains with The Tajul. A rare but treasured possession, for two otherwise relatively unlikely men. Tahib lovingly calls the Bird 'Anno', which is short for 'Annoying'. I never claimed he was imaginative...

Personality:
At first glance, Tahib is everything the mind imagines a shady assassin to be all at once; Cunning, aloof, and silently terrifying. He keeps himself to himself, and reveals little about his personal life to others. When rare glimpses of his disposition do manage to shine through, he seems to be a clever, witty sort of soul. As quick with his mouth as he is with his feet, he always knows which words will manage to cut the deepest, so hope that he's on your side when the insults start flying. Shaharanian’s are notably non-spiritual, and Tahib is no exception. Perhaps to a degree, this could explain the overwhelmingly no-nonsense and practical nature he possesses. Why bother softening a harsh truth when there’s no God to care about how you go about using your words? The theory does work both ways too though, as it also arguably clarifies his surprising moments of genuine respect and politeness towards others. These moments of regard and courtesy are not always all that obvious, and make themselves known in small distinct ways, but they are doubtlessly there nonetheless.

Combat Style: Mixed
He's a good instinctive fighter, like most Shaharanian’s. But what gives Tahib his edge is his training, and years of fighting experience gained in other countries. The man is able to think on his feet, assess a situation swiftly, and carry out calculated yet simultaneously unpredictable attacks with ease. Tahib's knowledge of more refined fighting techniques comes from a widespread and varied education, all accumulated in a number of increasingly dubious ways. Some say he once joined a Gweynuran Guard Outpost as a supposed recruit only to leave after seemingly learning enough from their particular strengths, others say he spent a year in a Triveilan prison (Purposefully?) and learnt from a long-forgotten humiliated general, there's even a rumour he managed to bed a member of the Cre' Est Senate and that's how he knows all that he knows. Whichever of these rumours are true (or not), the fact remains that Tahib is an experienced and fluid fighter.
That said, of course nobody is unbeatable, but Tahib has proven his skill time and time again, and is certainly a hard nut to crack.
A weakness of his that could be used by an enemy, would be to tease and lure him more into one school of combat than the other. Tahib's prowess lies within his ability to both switch and intertwine the more instinctive measures with those of a more strategic premeditation. Therefore, if an opposing fighter were able to lure him into one school of combat more, his technique would become unbalanced, and there the opening would lie.

Strengths:
- Quick on his feet: Literally, as previously mentioned, Tahib's not exactly a heavy-set guy, and through a few good years of training and experience, it's fair to say he's pretty fast. In a number of ways too, he's a quick runner, swift to avoid a hit and practically untouchable when fleeing from suspicious situations, especially one's he's gone and caused.
- Reserved: I promise you the man does have some emotions hidden deep within that heart of his. Tahib's natural demeanour is recluse and rather private to begin with, but to be proficient in his particular line of work, one has to pull these emotions and feelings back further still. It's never quite clear from the look on his face just what Tahib may be thinking or feeling exactly, and this benefits him greatly with regards to stealth and secrecy.
- Neutral: A strength in that, the man apparently never attaches himself to anything or anyone. A relatively useful ability when your main body of work includes killing without question. He has no affiliation to any particular country, territory or community, living only to sustain himself, and serve the Guild.

Weaknesses:
- Proud: But only of himself. You'll get no rise out of him by foul-mouthing his homeland, or the place he currently rests his head. But insult his technique, attitude or even dress sense, and I tell you what, he won't half get mad about it.
- Neutral: Both a blessing and a curse, Tahib's unfeeling-ness towards any loyalty or affiliation sure does make his life a lonely one. Has has effectively no friends in the world, certainly none left living anyway. And as of such, there are certainly none who would rush to his aid in any particular hurry.
- Silently Sorrowful: A weakness he guards well, to the point where none yet truly know of it. I suppose, in a sense, it was an inevitable revelation to eventually catch up to him. For how could you live a life such as his without eventually feeling the weight of it come bearing down upon you.

Bio:
Tahib was only fifteen when he left the his clan, too young an age really. But egotistical adolescent confidence can certainly make one confident in brash decisions. He claims to have been insulted and uncertain by the future his clan had in store for him. And so after a blazing row with his family, the boy left for Her' Eshia, for it seemed as good a place to start as any. Again, little more but ego informed him that he would in fact be able to pursue anything he put his mind to in a city as wild and varied as Her' Eshia. However, reality had a bitter pill ready for him to swallow. Like so many others who come to such a place yearning for better things, Tahib soon found out dreams are not enough to feed a stomach with. Life in the city became a struggle, and he found himself becoming an ever adept everyman, lending himself to any work that was available, no matter how dubious the task truly be. In part, it was his non-fussy nature that got him started with the Guild properly in the first place.

It's estimated there are thousands of individual nomadic clans travelling the vast wilderness of Shaharan. A country which itself, spans for hundreds of miles. To dedicate a single organization of any nature to cover the whole country would be difficult,. Too little butter for too much bread you see. And this was the exact issue the Shaharan Assassins Guild found itself with all those years ago. It was Maukā who found him first. At the time, she had a contract to kill a relatively well-known gladiator currently fighting at the arena. Apparently he'd been throwing too many fights that he should have been winning, and winning too many fights that he should have been throwing. The problem was, Maukā had had a recent run in with a number of the Arena's main contributors, certainly far too many to get anywhere near the stadium unseen. There was no other Guild member nearby enough to assist her with the contract either. So it fell to a complete coincidental chance of fate, she her path crossed with Tahibs.

Of all things, he was in fact trying to rob her. Not the best way to make a good first impression on a person, but certainly one that would stick in their mind for a while. Of course, Tahib was unsuccessful with his attempt, but nonetheless, Maukā was actually rather impressed with his effort all the same. His covertness and fluidity of motion had allowed him to get far closer than any other thief that had ever tried. And so, instead of maybe punishing him accordingly, or handing him over to the city guards, Maukā took a chance on the young lad, and simply asked him if he fancied earning himself a couple of Silvers? He of course, said yes. Now, if truth be told, Tahib admittedly did not expect accepting this strange mystery woman's offer would have him end up in the middle of the arena of all places, being poised to fight and kill what can only be described as a mythological giant squished down and forced into the unwilling body of a human. These days, when reminiscing, Tahib will genuinely admit luck played a considerably heavy hand with his fate that day, regardless of what he thinks now though, his victory in the arena was certainly enough to decide Maukā's mind.

And so, Maukā personally recruited Tahib into the Shaharan Assassin Guild, and oversaw his initial training as an apprentice. His newfound career started the same way any common recruit's does. He trained every single day, carried out intel work for the Guild and various other 'interested parties' and carried out various delivery and secret courier missions, etc. Over the years, the boy built himself a slow, but nevertheless solid and steady reputation within the Guild and the more 'underworld' Shaharan circles. It was as he entered his twenties, that his first 'big-break-hit' occurred. His very first high-profile contract, none other than Maukā herself. The woman had grown ever tired of her increasingly stale role within the Guild. While maintaining a position of Senior ranking, as she grew ever closer to the twilight of her own life, less and less physical work came her way, and this maddened her deeply. Eventually, just to feel some sort of thrill or purpose again, Maukā's loyalty broke, and she began to sell out not only secrets, but people to anyone and everyone who had a bone to pick with the Guild. This, of course, just would not do. Despite all her years of experience, she never expected such a betrayal from one of her former students, and when the time came for Tahib to fulfil the terms of the contract, it would be a lie to call the endeavour anything but uncomplicated. And yet, while the hit may have lacked any physical strain or difficulty, the deed revealed in Tahib both a wildly devoted loyalty to the Guild, as well as a simultaneous deficiency of emotion or remorse that, in hindsight, I suppose would seem to be the ideal trait in a promising Guild Assassin.

After killing Maukā, and in consideration of his solid and reliable years of service, Tahib now held a considerable place of standing within the Shaharan Assassin's Guild. Some thought he sought leadership of the organisation, but it is never something he pursued, or even wishes to now. Instead of growing perhaps too ambitious, Tahib instead grew restless. As he had once left his Clan to seek newer pastures, he yearned to once again set out, and see more of the world and what it had to offer. In part to satisfy his own curiosity, and in smaller part to genuinely try and seek stronger ties and foundations for the Guild, he volunteered/just decided he was going to seek out the Assassins Guilds of the other countries and attempt to seek alliances between the groups. If they could not all be united under one banner, a steady friendship between the groups would surely prove useful otherwise? Sensing a growing political unrest (At the time,) he set his sights on Cre' Est for his first port of call.

Ever since, truth be told. The man has just wandered. He loosely still considers his promise and loyalty to the Guild to be his outstanding directive in life. But if I'm being honest with you here, he never seems that focused or in that much of a rush to me. I'd say he's stalling, but who knows what for...

Trivia:
- Good Cook A surprisingly good cook! Unexpected I know, but let me tell you, this man sure does know his spices!
- Cannot swim, ironic really considering his love for the coast. But then again, I suppose the barren plains of Shaharan aren't exactly the best place to go about practicing your backstroke.
- While he likes both just fine, is more of a Cat person than a dog person.
- Enjoys reading (And writing?) Poetry.
- Again, surprisingly good at braiding hair. Odd really, considering how simply he keeps his own.

Basically, Tahib is a guy who left his home clam/land to pursue what he believed to be something worthwhile. His family and friends disagreed wildly and he left on a somewhat angered note. From then on, became a Murder Man for hire, and became very good at it, but oh-uh, somewhere along the way he acidentally went and got some poor girl pregnant. Fatherhood had NEVER been on his list of things to do and it honestly knocked him for six a little. We can presume Mummy Dearest died in child-birth, so he was left to raise his daughter while also still maintaining the title of Chief Sir-Stabs-A-Lot.

Basically, a story including Tahib would involve a LOT of angst, redemption, soul searching and all that jazz. It could be the case that he meets a partner and actually develops feelings for once and he starts to wonder of murdering people for money is actually a good way to spend his life? It could be he meets the one and only friend he's ever made and they have adventures and all that. Maybe you'd like to play as his kid and we have cool parent and child murder adventures. Or whatever really! I'm open for suggestions.

Tahib is a character open for: Romance, Rivalry, and Friendship.



C O W B O Y S - God I love Cowboys

Burdock Wilson + Robin Arkwright

Spoiler: Robin Arkwright

Full Name|Robin Joan Arkwright
Nickname| Rob, Bob or Bobbie. Whichever honestly, she doesn't really mind.
Gender| All woman Hunny.
Age + D.O.B| Robin was born on Saturday the 22nd of December, 1860.

Appearance|
Robin's tall, but only for a girl? and she's sort of stocky too. But maybe that's just her height making her look bigger than she really is. She dresses like a man half the time, wearing trousers and suspenders like its nobodies business, so honestly who knows what sort of feminine figure is hiding under all of that masculine tat.
Height| 5'11"
Face Claim| (A Young) Maxine Peake

About | Christ, Robin's a hardy thing. Everything about her, from her nature, to her manner of speaking simply screams rowdy and uninhibited. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, don't get me wrong. Bobbie's got a truly remarkable sense of unapologetic determination about her, that's for sure. She's clever enough too, perhaps not as academically smart as Burdock, but she's certainly no fool. Not completely anyway.

Otherwise, the gal's a witty little thing, knows the best dirtiest jokes, has fallen completely and utterly in love with Coffee, despises the weather when it rains, Plays the Piano quite well (And she's trying to learn the guitar too, but it's slow progress), rather wishes she had a Dog or Cat or something, and her favourite colour is Christmas Red.

Robin Anne Arkwright, described by A Famous Old Coot Burdock Wilson |

He frowns softly, and grumbles at the idea of having to think about something with any resemblance of insightful thought for a moment. Bobbie gives his arm a restless shove, "Go on, I did you." He grumbles yet again, and shuffles uncomfortably at her jabbing, both literally and figuratively.

He manages to find an answer he finds suitable eventually, "Like Uh... Like a Rat. Yeah, Ratty."

There is a deafening silence of pure indignation. And then- "IN WHAT WAY, AM I AT ALL, LIKE A PISSING RAT?!"

His response is almost indistinguishable from a growl, "Well I don't know dammit! I meant it because-" He waves his hand vaguely, hoping it would be enough to finish his statement for him. Robin lingers in affronted disgruntlement. He sighs again, heavily, "You know, because your hair, the freckles, it's all, Mousey stuff."

"WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY MOUSEY THEN YOU DAFT OLD GIT?"

This is getting a little heated.

"YOU KNOW WHAT, I SHOULD HAVE SAID DOG-LIKE, 'CAUSE YOU WON'T STOP YAPPIN', YOUR HAIR'S CURLIER THAN A SPANIELS, AND RIGHT NOW, YOU'RE BEING A REAL BITC-"

Good Gracious.

Why/How are they indebted to Burdock Wilson| She's somewhat embarrassed to fully tell it would seem. She prickles and fumbles whenever the question is directly asked of her. From what little she gives, it simply would seem that Burdock helped her out of a rough patch quite a few years ago now. If it's been that long however, surely she's worked off any debt or favour by now, right?

History | As you might initially guess from the accent alone, Robin isn't actually from America. No, this little song-bird flapped her wings to America all the way over from jolly old England town. Specifically, a place called Accrington in Lancashire, way up in the Coal-fields of the North-West. Her family were, and seemingly still are, all Miners. She would have been just the same, but the Moorfield Disaster of '83 killed her Father. Mother didn't last for too long without him, and with the small sum she had inherited from the both of them, it was decided she was best off and away to America.

Upon arrival, it seems she was initially a lot more hopeful and optimistic about what the States could offer her than she appears to be now.

Spoiler: Burdock Wilson

Full Name |Burdock Wilson
Nickname| ... Wait Burdock isn't just a nickname? You mean to tell me that's the mans real name?
Gender| Macho Macho Man
Age | D.O.B: Burdock was born on Friday the 10th of August, 1838.

Appearance
He's a big old lumbering thing, with a broad stocky frame to match it. Age has weathered him, as it does all things. But a life as lively as his has kept him in relatively decent shape. he ain't tuning senile yet at the very least. That said, maybe he isn't quite as on the mark as he once may have used to be? It's hard to say.

Height | 6'3"
Face Claim | (A Slightly younger than he is now) Clancy Brown

About | Truthfully? Age has weathered him. Rather roughly too. Gruff, uncouth, and often times quite grumpy. Burdock isn't really the smooth charmer he may have once been in his prime. Although that said, don't be completely fooled by the rugged exterior. Just because he's a 'lil crusty, doesn't by any means mean he's stupid. There's a smart and clever little mind hidden beneath that hat. Quick to conjure a hefty variety of schemes, opportunities and other various no-good activities, Burdock's a sharp one, but only when he wants to be.

But otherwise, he enjoys Napping, his favourite drink is Bourbon, he's not overly keen on the cold, he has a surprising soft spot for music, and his Horse is the only thing in the world he is willing to be pleasant to in the early morning.

Burdock, but as described by his Lackey Second in Command, Robin -

She grins at the question. A toothy, rather smug grin, and she turns to show him this smugness too. Leaning back in her chair, she folds her arms, "Well that's easy enough. I personally think Dirty, grotty old Scrotum of a Man sums 'im up pretty well."

She laughs as she dives to avoid the glass bottle thrown in her general direction.

History

He was an apprentice to a banker for about nine days, and that's honestly pretty much the only respectable line of work he's ever really had.

From a young age, Burdock's lived outside of the law. The names of what he did might have changed, Rustler, Gun for hire, Drifter, Bounty Hunter, Robber, Highwayman, etc. but the goal always remained mainly the same.

Get money, and don't die.

And from there, I' sure you can imagine the sort of life our young Mr. Wilson lead. General criminality and debauchery all around. Mischief and violence, leading ever downwards towards an inevitable end of manic gunfire. Or it would have been, if he hadn't have met Connie. But we, He, does not talk about Connie. Not just Willy Nilly anyhow. No. Rather keep to himself about Connie if you don't mind.

As you can see, these characters were initially written to be a bit of a double-act, but don't necessarily have to be.

I am reallyinto cowboys, plain and simple. Just like it. So I'm very much down for doing a Wild West story! Perhaps we could have a motley crew trying to conquer the Oregon Trail, or a rag-tag bunch of con-men and schemers, or maybe just some people trying to get by in a more slice of life kinda fashion. I don't mind!

Both characters are open to: Romance, Rivalry, Friendship and Family


Sexy Victorian Bearded Man - Albert Byron Whitlock

Spoiler: Albert Byron Whitlock

Name: Sir Albert Byron Whitlock, Bt.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight as an arrow.

Virtues: Organised, Incredibly Ambitious, and Resolute to a fault.
Vices: Stubborn as an Ass, often discourteous, irascible.
Fears: The downfall of not only his reputation, but more importantly his family's, and change.

Appearance:

This portrait resides in the Town Hall of Leeds, Yorkshire, Albert's birthplace. A gift from his family, the painting was commissioned for his 35th birthday. As you can see for yourself, he appears quite a bit older than his mere thirty-odd years. An imposing figure, in more ways than one, Sir Whitlock stands at around 6'3", and is a well-built sort of fellow. He always makes a point to present himself in a respectable fashion, despite the apparent freedoms the afterlife may grant to some with regards to attire. A straight suit, starched collar, and trademark frown make up his day to day appearance.

What was your character’s life like?

Albert was born to a rather average, semi-middle class parentage, in Leeds, Yorkshire. His family were not poor, but neither were they abundant in wealth or funds. His Father was a banker, and his Mother claimed heritage from a equally unexceptional middling family. And so it seemed, young Albert was set to follow this same safely unexciting path in life. But something rather interesting happened as Albert grew. In his studies, he actually rather excelled, his peers noted his good manners and keen business sense, and his deep personal loyalty to his faith only furthered his ever increasing good reputation. Through his own skill and talent, Albert was surpassing and outgrowing what the world had already laid out for him.

Yeah! Perhaps a bit of an outlier, but he's one of the characters who's got quite a lot of options I suppose. Maybe there could be a story about a no-nonsense millworker who manages to soften his heart? Perhaps you're a family member/owner of a opposing industry to his and you guys are bitter enemies (But also maybe not )

​

Bertie's a character open to: Romance, Rivalry, Friendship and Family.

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So that's pretty much me in a nutshell!

Please feel free to drop me a line either here in this thread or in a DM if you'd like to chat further!!​

 

[Wilder28]

Hey! Just thought I'd drop by and say, I do have a couple characters who may work well in a Fantasy storyline with Signy!