xXRassBerriXx
One Thousand Club
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? Needed Role: Rebel Soldier ?
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X Male/or/Female ? Male X
X Any gender will do! X
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!!!Warning!!!
This roleplay will be dramatic, and at times possibly gory. Mentions of abuse and things of the like will likely be in future posts as well.
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It has been ten years since England fell to hell; ten years since King Eden took the throne. People were robbed of their treasures which now lie abandoned in Eden's castle. He grew bored of them long ago, but that didn't mean he would give them back. He savored what he had when others were lacking. Taxes have risen through the roof, but he accepts any sort of payment: material, money, service. Of course, there was an outrage when the new king first made his demands, but the people were silenced quickly. Those who argued lost their tongues and those foolish enough to fight lost their lives. He was cruel, but he had a loyal military that could match anything an angry crowd could throw at him. As he was then, he was invincible. It looked hopeless.
Ten years ago, you were a child. You've lived a majority of your life under Eden's rule. The day he inherited the throne changed your life from happy to horrid in a matter of weeks. Your family lost money. Suddenly, your parents were working constantly. They no longer had time for you, but they were trying. Their efforts put food on the table for a while. Soon though, it didn't matter. There was no way your parents could keep up with expenses and alas they cracked under the pressure. A year after Eden took the throne, your father left you and your mother. Soon after that, you were abandoned in an empty home as your mother took her own departure quietly one night. You would have surely died if it weren't for a dear friend of your's.
He was a neighbor and a boy the same age as you, but you didn't see him often. He was born with a ghostly white figure that was too sensitive for the sun. It kept him locked up inside during the day. But, if there was a silver lining, it must have been his eyes. They were so odd, but so lovely: A crimson red. You adored them.
His name was Phelan.
On the night your mother abandoned you, Phelan happened to be outside. He watched as she left, clueless. It was only by dawn that he realized she was gone, not to return... He couldn't leave you alone. He approached you in your home that morning, telling you of what he saw and comforting you as you mourned your loss. He swore he would help you, and he did just that. Every night, he would come to your home with food and water, but never would he tell you how he managed to get his hands on it. He'd cheerily call it a secret. This went on for two years. On the third, it came to a very sudden end.
Phelan was arrested, convicted of thievery. He'd been stealing night after night in hopes to provide for you and his family. The guards captured him at night. You didn't hear of it until morning and by then it was too late to do anything. He was already gone, likely dead considering how savage king Eden and his men were. You didn't get to say goodbye. Instead, you got to witness the start of a rebellion.
A local man had enough. He called attention to Eden's atrocities and, slowly, he began to win people over. Your tiny village grew strong, training in secret for the next five years. People wanted change. When word began to spread of your plans, it was already too late. Your village was empty. You moved to an abandoned mine in the nearby mountains and transformed it into a small stronghold: the heart of a rebellion. You finally had a chance to fight back and you would. For the life of that kind ghostly boy, Phelan, you would fight back.
December 10th, 1504 - England
You were now fifteen, and strong. You took up training after losing Phelan along with the rest of the village. Your skill for battle flourished and easily you surpassed even the adults in your village. You were respected, adored, and trusted. Naturally, when trouble arose the village turned to you. You were on a mission today, a mission to kill one of Eden's most notorious men. He was unnerving, an enigma hidden by a large white cloak. Even worse was his title: Ghost. That name made you think of things that left you on the verge of tears. It brought an image to your head, that of Phelan, he who you adored even with his ghostly self, and he who vanished into the night. You hated it. How dare he use that name to kill! That name that made you remember your dear pale-skinned friend who had done so much for you. Ghost needed to die, before he did anymore damage under that name.
He was a man who roamed the streets only at night. He worked as a killer under Eden's command, turning his blade on protesters and rebels. Yet, no one knew what he looked like nor his name. That ghostly cloak hid him well. He almost blended into it. You traveled to one of England's few remaining cities to catch Ghost. He was targeting an armed protester who managed to chase him off when he first tried to claim the other. Your job was to protect and recruit this protester into the rebellion, but you would be doing more than that. You wanted Ghost dead.
You arrived at the protester's home this morning. He was a young blond man who went by Noah. He was kind and polite. Staying with him that day was a treat, but come night your job began. You raised your guard and waited. Around midnight, the door opened downstairs. You left Noah in his room as you went to investigate.
Then, there he was. You waited in the shadowy darkness of the upstairs corridor where the staircase was. Ghost appeared silently at the top, oblivious to your presence hidden beside the railing. When he walked by you, you made your move. You grabbed his cloaked shoulder, which felt oddly bony, and threw him against the wall. No hesitation crossed you as you ripped your sword from it's sheath and plunged it into Ghost's shoulder, pinning him to the wall. He whimpered. Clearly, it hurt. You roused a cry from the boy when you began to shift your sword, widening the wound.
"I hate you," you growled, lifting a hand to his throat. You grabbed onto it tightly and silenced his cries, instead causing him to feebly gasp and struggle. You hoped to strangle him, slowly. This was the death such a vile creature deserved.
But, it was then that Noah cracked open the door to his room. Clearly, he was drawn out by the lack of cries.
"Is he dead? Do you get him?" Noah asked.
Before you could answer, he lifted a candle into the hallway. Golden light filled the corridor, lifting the darkness which conceal the face of the man you were strangling. It lit up what his hood hid.
His skin was pale, like a ghost's. Strands of wavy hair just as bright hung in front of his eyes, or rather what hid them. Bandages covered a majority of his face. They completely concealed his eyes, leaving only his nose and mouth visible to you. His lips had parted in a feeble attempt to take in air which still wouldn't come to him. Your hand wound tightly around his bandaged neck made sure of this.
You paused and the hate you felt was crumbled by shock. Ghost was more than you thought he was, for he was exactly what he made you think of. That friend you lost, Phelan, was now right in front of you, your hand suffocating him and your sword impaling him. But, those lovely red eyes of his were hidden from you... behind those bandages.
What will you do?
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My Character
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Name: Phelan ( Fay-lan)
Title: Ghost
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Height: 5'7
Weight: 122
Appearance: Scrawny and damaged, Phelan lost the healthy look of his youth. He's small now. His ribs show on his chest suggesting he isn't eating enough and his ghostly skin has a sickly tint to it. Even his white hair has lost it's once lively glow, now looking more dead. His body is riddled with scars. Some look like the scars one would undergo in battle. Others look too precise and too intentional to be anything one would gain in combat. He's normally covered in bandages, including the ones on his face which he refuses to take off. They hide his worst scar: his eyes, now gone.
Personality: Phelan is no longer the smiling, positive and friendly boy he once was. He will not approach strangers. He refuses to even speak to anyone he does not know. Often times, he convinces himself that there is something to worry about, when in reality, nothing is wrong. He's merely scaring himself. Such also makes him very insecure in relationships. He over thinks every little thing and can't relax, fearing that he may do something wrong and scare the other away. Worse, he never voices his worries. He's withdrawn into a reclusive shell, not daring to utter a thing about how he feels. But, he's still Phelan. Despite his new fearful, paranoid self, he still cares deeply for other people. He wants to help. He wants to have friends again, and perhaps even someone to love, but right now obtaining these things seems like a hopeless dream to him.
