Amelya Shipwright

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1. 

   Shipwright, Amelya

   December 19, 2022

   ::-webkit-scrollbar { height: 12px; width: 10px; background-color: #fff;} ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background: #090C13; } ::-webkit-scrollbar-corner { background: #090C13; } ::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background: #fff; } #thtabcontainer { width: 500px; padding: 20px; background: #FCFAFF; } .thtabname { width: 200px; height: 250px; background: #090C13; text-align: right; padding: 20px; font-family: playfair display; text-transform: uppercase; color: #FCFAFF; font-size: 28px; line-height: 30px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-style: italic; word-spacing: 3px; } .thtabimage img { width: 260px; height: 250px; } .thtabtopper { width: 450px; height: 21px; margin-top: 10px; font-family: lekton; font-size: 12px; opacity: 0.8; filter: alpha(opacity=80); text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; word-spacing: 4px; color: #090C13; border-top: 3px double #090C13; border-bottom: 3px double #090C13; } .tabs { position: relative; height: 460px; width: 450px; clear: both; margin: 25px 0; } .tab { float: left; } .tab label { display: block; background: #090C13; color: #ccc; height: 12px; width: 12px; line-height: 2px; font: 8px/12px lekton; padding: 10px; -webkit-border-radius: 20px; margin: 10px; position: relative; left: 125px; } .tab [type=radio] { display: none; } [type=radio]:checked ~ label { background: #DDDDDD; color: #090C13; border-bottom: 0px; z-index: 2; } [type=radio]:checked ~ label ~ .thcontent { z-index: 1; } .thcontent { position: absolute; top: 60px; left: 0; background: #fff; right: 0; bottom: 0; padding: 0px; border: 0px; text-align: justify; } [type=radio]:checked ~ label { background: #DDDDDD; color: #090C13; border-bottom: 0px; z-index: 2; } [type=radio]:checked ~ label ~ .thcontent { z-index: 1; } .thfirsttab { text-align: center; width: 250px; margin-top: 100px; margin-left: 105px; margin-right: 105px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; line-height: 16px; border-bottom: 1px solid #090C13; color: #090C13; padding-bottom: 20px; } .thfirsttabcredit { font-family: lekton; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; line-height: 9px; padding-top: 20px; letter-spacing: 2px; word-spacing: 4px; color: #606060; } .thapptable { width: 350px; margin-left: 50px; margin-right: 50px; margin-top: 25px; letter-spacing: 1px; word-spacing: 3px; line-height: 18px; } .thapprow { display: block; text-align: center; font-family: lekton; font-size: 10px; height: 16px; line-height: 16px; background: #090C13; color: #DDDDDD; text-transform: uppercase; } .thapprow:hover { color: #090C13; background: #DDDDDD; } .thappcol { display: block; text-align: justify; font-family: lekton; font-size: 10px; height: 16px; line-height: 16px; padding-left: 10px; color: #090C13; text-transform: uppercase; } .thappcontent { width: 410px; height: 360px; overflow: auto; font-family: times new roman; padding: 20px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 14px; color: #090C13; } .thoocabout { font-family: times new roman; font-size: 14px; color: #090C13; line-height: 14px; padding: 5px; } introducing the character //Amelya Shipwright . If you're goin' through hell keep on going/Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it/ You might get out before the devil even knows you're there "If You're Going Through Hell" - Rodney Atkins . Amelya Shipwright AGE Thirty ALIGNMENT Chaotic Neutral OCCUPATION Thief/Fence SOCIAL STATUS Workers/Outcast RACE Human CANON POINT N/A TIME HERE Her Whole Life CANON/OC OC FANDOM N/A MEMBER GROUP - Local . Amelya's life was fairly ordinary, though for her, it was miserable. The woman felt confined, and she knew there was more to life then being married off, even if that's what her parents wanted for her. It would make their station in life secure, and make sure Amelya was taken care of in the long run. She hated it, and was very vocal about it. The girl and her parents constantly butted heads, and the tension was made worse when her father was injured and couldn't work. Theft or selling herself were the two options, alongside her mother and older sister. While the other two chose the latter, she went for the former, taking too much pride in herself to submit to a man for money.  
   It was through her thieving that she gained a good amount of skill in stealth, but the beginning was fraught with encounters with the guards. This left her in the jail for a night, leaving her with a warm meal at least and a roof over her head. But it wasn't providing for her family. Every night in jail was another lesson learned, and she was captured less and less. Eventually, Chief Nichol Strongsteel extended her an offer to go undercover for them. She would be paid and protected, and she said she would think about it.  
   The first war came, leaving the city in disarray and a prime target for many criminals. It definitely left many shops closed, and Amelya found food to be a good material to fence, slowly getting better at hawking what she stole to pawnshops and to other interested parties. That is, until one night, when someone she didn't recognise cornered her in an alley and beat and sexually assaulted her.  
   It was a message. A message to her father and sister to pay their dues for the drugs they'd been addicted to. Amelya took Chief Strongsteel's offer, and began working to gain the attention of the Rogue's Guild. It worked, and she was able to keep an eye on what came and went through the Guild. She became known as Amy Ross there, and she fit in well. In fact, members helped teach her how to read and write, as well as how to properly do numbers on paper.  
    
   As she became more proficient and trusted in the guild, she learned more and more of the drug trade through her contacts, and bit by bit chipped away at some in the city, handing over the evidence she'd gathered to the constables and investigators. When the Civil War came, Amelya kept her head down, doing her job even as her main protector, Nichol, left to fight. Nightmares plagued her from her attack, and she just wished he'd return. They'd grown close, but he didn't return her feelings, and she didn't blame him. She was tainted.  
   Finally, the man returned, and she was able to continue her work, knowing the man had her back. And that is what she's been doing to this day. . The Write One AGE - 33 TIMEZONE - EST FACE CLAIM: Art THEONS @ SHINE
2. 

   Cold Inside

   May 14, 2020

   Amy leaned back in her seat, balancing precariously on the back two legs of the chair. One leg hooked over the other and the edge of her shoe wedged under the desk kept her from tumbling over entirely. She then draped one arm over the back of the chair and her other hand holding the one draped over the back for the sake of the balance as she waited for their drinks to come. There were others to serve, so it would take a few minutes for what they ordered to get to them. The thief mulled over his words, trying to think of what to say about Chiselwall. "Well... I heard they normally go over the basics when you arrive, but if you've ended up in a cell..."
    
   The woman trailed off as she looked him over again, minutely shifting to balance herself better. "But, mad king tried taking over, opened portals to pull demons through, yadda yadda yadda... People got pulled through instead of demons, they got conscripted to fight instead... there was a war with our current King leading the charge to overthrow said mad king and they've still not closed the portals because things go boom if they try."
    
   It was not the most elaborate explanation anyone could give, but she normally didn't deal with people who hadn't been given the rundown already. "Must have been some hell of a fight you put up."
   
3. 

   Out Of The Frying Pan...

   August 5, 2019

   At Gaspard's confirmation that indeed, the compass was the one she thought, she looked it over again, mulling over ideas in her head. This too, could get a hefty price. She'd just have to be careful not to let the Advisor get wind of it. That would be the tricky part. She'd just make sure it eventually got back to the Keep.... eventually. She glanced up at the other thief there with her and nodded. "That's for sure. You've pulled off a major heist that's gonna make the rest of the guild look bad."
    
   Her tone was playful, a smirk edging at her expression as she put the compass down with an almost reverence. No use breaking the merchandise or making it worse. A historic piece, if nothing else, she was sure she could find someone to pay to throw it back at that wolfman, especially if that was how the man had acted when it came through. Good to know. That man had a temper, noted. "This stuff is gonna get a fair amount from my sources. The inscription stuff alone is worth a tidy sum."
    
   He'd get his cut of things once they got back to the guild. She wasn't stupid enough to carry that much coin on her person. Of all people, Amelya knew better. This was a city of pickpockets, thieves (like the one in front of her), and any number of unscrupulous types. Some had less honor then others, or weren't joined with the guild who would try to knick what they could. Carefully, she started putting the items back in the tattered pack, each touch and movement gentle, and if she was anyone else, she'd have thought it almost sensual how she handled her things. But she wasn't anyone else, and she didn't think with her lady parts too often - that was her sister's division. "I'll pay you when we manage to get back to headquarters, Gaspard."
    
   Amelya paused as he addressed her specifically, even stopping putting the last bit of treasure away. There was even a coin pouch in the depths of the backpack, but that'd get divided up later as well. Mostly between her and Gaspard, with some going to Marius. She stopped and looked at Gaspard, wondering how to answer, before she shrugged. \"Not much, really. Hawking things here and there for you guys, causing mischief. Same as you. Though you seem to do it much better."
    
   And gathering intel like crazy, for many parties, but her fellow thief didn't need to know that. That'd cause complications she didn't want on top of tabulating the value of the haul in front of her. She started moving again, dropping the charms on top, then closed the pack and latched it
   
4. 

   Demon Bait

   February 10, 2019

   Amy had gone to dodge before the strange man had thrown up the spell, but her eyes remained locked on the demon that howled its rage at being contained. And then the Outsider was scolding her and she just lifted her eyebrow at him. "Not leaving you to deal with this alone, you idiot!"
    
   Her eyes went from the man who clearly was the expert here and back to the demon, her body tense. The thief was ready to bolt if she needed to, get the hell out of Chiselwall basically. Still though, she'd not just abandon the man who was clearly stupid and had a deathwish, not if she could help it. This man was terrifying when he put his mind to it.
    
   The woman's hand went to one of the daggers at her hip instinctively. It probably wouldn't do her any good if that thing got out, but she needed to do something to assure herself. "What do you want me to do? Not leaving you to handle this yourself."
    
   Dark eyes drifted up and up as she looked the demon thing over, her eyes narrowing as she waited for her instructions. She smirked a bit as she glanced at the blond next to her. "You just owe me a drink if we survive this, you know."
   
5. 

   There's A Spy Among Us

   March 21, 2018

   Amy didn't know much about the new guildmaster in front of her, but from what she'd been able to glean, he was a good man with a moral code and so far, the best intentions of the guild in mind. He had a mature kind of appeal to him, something that put her at ease despite the branch of the guild he was a part of it. She rarely did business with the assassins, but she made a note to keep tabs on most, if not all, of them. She hadn't really been fond of the last man in charge, but he'd made her job easier with how lax he was in some departments.
    
   But she'd been too lax herself it sounded like. Her brows narrowed some as she listened, concern on her face. Hopefully it came across as concern for her fellow guildmates, rather than concern for being found out. He was relaxed though, no more tense then as if talking about the weather outside. It was no unknown secret that she wished her sister would quit Crackle Smoke, but she'd kept her distaste quiet. Even the person she'd hired to strike out against the thugs that'd attacked her didn't know - she'd put that hit out anonymously.
    
   If their leader had picked up on the pattern though of those being turned in, she'd been too careless. She'd need to lay off, but not immediately. That'd just raise suspicion more. Then again, he'd met with many people that day. The gears turned in her head, even as she met his gaze. She'd especially been careless with the assassins, it sounded like. "I can see why, Boss. Hard to do your job when trying to look over your shoulder for the guard, right?"
    
   She kept her hands clasped in between her slightly spread legs, bobbing with her words, with her thumbs occasionally joining in on the gesturing as she spoke. They weren't tightly clenched or tense, merely loose and as if just needing something to do with them while not showing off her feminine assets. That was something consistent across all reports: she was a beauty, but she never relied on that, relying on her silver tongue and sharp wit instead. Some had even commented she'd always been like that, always hiding what she had available - as far as those same folks were concerned, she never even had a suitor or a lover. Amy preferred it that way. She was getting too old, anyways, and she was sure her appearance was going to start going downhill eventually.
    
   "I can't think of anyone right off the top of my head, but..." Her eyes glittered a little bit at the idea of the challenge ahead of her, "I can keep my ear to the ground, see if I can find anything, but you should know knowledge holds power, especially around here."
    
   The way she spoke was playful, almost gleeful. To her, this was was almost like free money being offered to her under the guise of looking for the person behind this. She had connections, and maybe a few that she'd be willing to throw to the dragon, but she needed to play her hand carefully - plant evidence, bend a few ears... It'd be tough, but she needed his go ahead first, or an agreement for pay.
   
6. 

   Broken Spirit

   March 20, 2018

   Amelya shivered and shook as the rain came down. The longer the seconds ticked on, the more abandoned she felt. No one wanted her, no one wanted to save her. She'd die alone, suffer alone... just like back then, when she'd been left in a similar state in an alley. A sob choked her and she hacked and coughed, even as her tears continued. So cold, so tired... but it wasn't safe. She couldn't rest.
    
   Her head snapped up as the door finally opened, and Marius stood there, staring at her. Amelya's chest was partly covered, merely by her left arm clutching at her right bicep to steady the broken limb, but everything else was exposed to him. She felt vulnerable, and she tried to curl up to hide before he scooped her up and held her close. The movement jostled her broken arm, and she cried out in pain. Had she not been terrified, it would have shamed her. This was not how she acted, not how she was. Amy Ross never cried.
    
   She was stronger than this, dammit! And still, she leaned against her guildmaster, his cloak around her partially and shielding her from the rain. She trusted him more than most, and was glad he had her now. It was an ache, deep in her soul, that he filled by holding her like this. She shook from everything that had happened, and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to remember what it was like to breathe. His quick movements up the stairs forced her to grit her teeth as she grabbed her arm more tightly.
    
   Safe. He was safe. She was safe here with him. Safe. Home. She was home and safe. Her face buried in his chest, trying to hide the pain she was in. She breathed in deep, then let it out, trying to calm down. Scared. So scared.
    
   Even as he put her down, her eyes went to the door in panic, as if the monster that attacked her would materialize. He certainly seemed to on the roof, there, and it sent a shudder through her. The weight of his cloak on her lap was noted, but she carefully draped her arm over the edge of the chair, her left arm pulling the cloak up around her neck to hide her nudity. In the time it took for him to get the fire going, she'd remembered how to calm down, to breathe. Safe. Marius was safe.
    
   "Attacked. Cliff's Edge... dead walking... my folks..." The pain slammed into her anew and the tears started again, and she hid her face behind the hood of his cloak, crying into the material. "My folks are dead, Marius...! I was almost raped!"
   
7. 

   Broken Spirit

   March 19, 2018

   ((OOC: This is just after Terror in the Night))
    
   The rain came down, though it wasn't nearly as much of a deluge as it had been. It was still cold, though, so terribly cold, and Amelya hugged herself, tears refusing to stop. She wandered the streets, afraid and unsure of where to go. Violet, her dear older sister, hadn't been at home, and she'd lacked the key needed to get in anyways. She didn't want to go home, either. Unsafe, unsafe. Too unsafe.
    
   Nichol would be sleeping, and Hayleigh had Bane. She didn't trust Bane, no. And Nichol, if she was honest, would raise questions with the guild. The Guild... There. She could go there. Amy clutched at her broken arm, her dagger like a lifeline in her left hand. It was hard to breathe, and so she moved slower, to keep her breathing under control, and it just made the shaking worse.
    
   She sobbed, a sound that was a mix of relief and sadness as the guild building finally came into sight, and weakly, she slammed her fist against the door. Like the key to her sister's place, she didn't have her key to the building. It was so cold. She needed rest. To sleep... "Marius? Someone! Please! Let me in! It's Amy! Please!"
    
   The woman slid to her knees, shaking. So much had happened, and the attack mixed and twisted with her previous attack, and she cried. Truly and fully cried, there, in the rain, near naked and broken, hoping anyone would come to her rescue. She was pathetic, useless... tainted...
   
8. 

   Terror In The Night [cw]

   March 19, 2018

   The blade found a mark, though not the mark she wanted. The blade, upon meeting the bone, skidded over it, leaving a hell of a gash. Amy couldn't help the sense of pride she felt at the growl of pain, though the primordial part of her screamed at the predator in front of her. Next thing she knew, she was flying through the air, and the air was once more slammed from her lungs as her back hit something. Well, at least she was out of his grip now.
    
   She coughed and wheezed, desperate to pull air into her lungs. The monster didn't seem too phased by the attack though, and in fact, seemed to relish her attack. The blood in her veins turned to ice, forcing her to shiver. Her body ached, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. Her throat hurt too much.
    
   Before Amy could react, he was on her, dropping his immense weight on her frail frame. Any air she'd gathered was driven from the thief, her already hurting body screaming with the additional pain as she was shoved to the roof. In the same movement, he grabbed her dominant arm and twisted it back until her elbow couldn't take it anymore and it gave way. Finally, the monster got the scream he wanted, the pain too intense for her to ignore. Her hand lost its strength, her precious weapon falling from her grip, leaving her defenseless.
    
   The woman sobbed as the pain overwhelmed her, only vaguely aware of what the man was doing to her. She shivered from a mix of cold, fear, and pain, and when he removed his weight from her back, Amy pulled a staggered breath into her lungs. The growl into her ear earned a terrified whine and she slammed her eyes shut, frozen in place from the memories and from pain.
    
   She'd failed... She'd failed and she'd be even more tainted then before. No one would love her, let alone want her... And then, over the sound of the rain and her pulse hammering in her ears, she heard the man that'd come to her aid before. Gunshots. Everything was confusing and didn't make sense, her mind struggling to connect pieces together.
    
   But this was her chance. As the monster behind her came under fire, she shakily pushed herself up on her left arm, and then her strength gave out. Dammit! Instead, she tipped her weight over, landing on her uninjured side, and without thinking, grabbed the dagger and continued rolling. She needed out, now. She needed out of here.
    
   Amy finally found the balance and the strength to get to her feet, her arm limp at her side and her left hand holding her dagger. Below the elbow, her arm felt useless and the tears kept coming. She was naked, practically, cold, and the terror wouldn't shake. Without thinking, she ran for the edge of the roof and jumped to the next, her landing unsteady and she rolled, crying out softly as her right arm moved.
    
   At least now she was safe, though... right?
   
9. 

   Terror In The Night [cw]

   March 19, 2018

   The kick did nothing, and the fear became more pronounced in her eyes. She kicked her feet again, trying to keep his hand away from the most sensitive parts of her. It didn't work, the trail of his claw across her stomach stilling her like a rabbit in the sights of a wolf - apt given who held her, but her mind wasn't thinking of the play on words. And then he grabbed her, and her eyes stung, tears rolling down her cheeks.
    
   Why did she keep ending up in these situations? She whimpered, trying to cross her legs to get him away from between them. It felt wrong, so wrong. This wasn't something she wanted in the least, and the tears wouldn't stop. She was useless, weak, and unable to defend herself, just like years ago. The men from her memories overlapped with that of the man in front of her and something snapped together inside of her.
    
   No. No she wasn't. She wasn't useless. She certainly wasn't weak. She could defend herself. Nichol had trained her. The thieves' guild had trained her. She didn't belong to anyone but herself, dammit. With fading strength, she pulled the hand back that held her knife as if her life depended on it and she swung, aiming to slam the blade into his wrist. If she could damage his wrist, he couldn't hold her. It'd damage the blade, but right now, she didn't care. She needed free before darkness or this vile creature in front of her claimed what was not rightfully theirs, and dammit, she was going to fight.
   
10. 

    Terror In The Night [cw]

    March 19, 2018

    Amy had been so intent on covering her retreat that she hadn't realized another was there until the blow came down across her face. Something cracked in her jaw, copper filling her mouth, and before her mind could recover, another blow came to her stomach, forcing her to stagger back. Air rushed from her lungs, but before she could catch her breath, a strong, clawed hand wrapped around her throat and lifted her off her feet. There was no struggle there with how easily he lifted her up, and she could feel the strength in his arms as her much smaller hands wrapped around his arm desperately. She couldn't scream, couldn't let out any noise with his grip.
     
    Steel colored eyes met the ice blue of the man holding her, and she felt a chill run down her spine, as if someone walked over her grave. Panic seized her as he spoke, and she kicked her feet, desperate for purchase of any kind. A strangled whimper managed to break free as he implied something she never wanted to hear again. Memories flashed before her mind's eye of the last time something like this had happened... but this time...
     
    Claws ripped through her shirt with far too much ease for her liking and an equally strangled cry escaped her. His voice made her think of Kallus, except it wasn't at the same time. The accent matched, but the growling was something else. As the cold rain hit bare skin, she tried to curl up, to hide herself from sight. He licked his lips, his manner nothing but predatory, sending another shiver through her. He handled her roughly, painfully, but she couldn't strike, not yet. Amelya gripped her dagger tightly, even as she beat the fist that held it against his powerful arm. She needed to find a way out. There was always a way out.
     
    She let her legs drop, where she'd had them allowing them to swing back further. It was a lot of strain on her neck, and already spots were starting to appear. It hurt. It hurt so much, but she quickly swung herself forward, bringing her feet together in an effort to land a strike on the demon that held her. She needed to act, and quickly.
    

Topics I Participated In

1. 

   Shipwright, Amelya

   Started by Amelya Shipwright · December 19, 2022

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   It was through her thieving that she gained a good amount of skill in stealth, but the beginning was fraught with encounters with the guards. This left her in the jail for a night, leaving her with a warm meal at least and a roof over her head. But it wasn't providing for her family. Every night in jail was another lesson learned, and she was captured less and less. Eventually, Chief Nichol Strongsteel extended her an offer to go undercover for them. She would be paid and protected, and she said she would think about it.  
   The first war came, leaving the city in disarray and a prime target for many criminals. It definitely left many shops closed, and Amelya found food to be a good material to fence, slowly getting better at hawking what she stole to pawnshops and to other interested parties. That is, until one night, when someone she didn't recognise cornered her in an alley and beat and sexually assaulted her.  
   It was a message. A message to her father and sister to pay their dues for the drugs they'd been addicted to. Amelya took Chief Strongsteel's offer, and began working to gain the attention of the Rogue's Guild. It worked, and she was able to keep an eye on what came and went through the Guild. She became known as Amy Ross there, and she fit in well. In fact, members helped teach her how to read and write, as well as how to properly do numbers on paper.  
    
   As she became more proficient and trusted in the guild, she learned more and more of the drug trade through her contacts, and bit by bit chipped away at some in the city, handing over the evidence she'd gathered to the constables and investigators. When the Civil War came, Amelya kept her head down, doing her job even as her main protector, Nichol, left to fight. Nightmares plagued her from her attack, and she just wished he'd return. They'd grown close, but he didn't return her feelings, and she didn't blame him. She was tainted.  
   Finally, the man returned, and she was able to continue her work, knowing the man had her back. And that is what she's been doing to this day. . The Write One AGE - 33 TIMEZONE - EST FACE CLAIM: Art THEONS @ SHINE
2. 

   Broken Spirit

   Started by Amelya Shipwright · March 19, 2018

   ((OOC: This is just after Terror in the Night))
    
   The rain came down, though it wasn't nearly as much of a deluge as it had been. It was still cold, though, so terribly cold, and Amelya hugged herself, tears refusing to stop. She wandered the streets, afraid and unsure of where to go. Violet, her dear older sister, hadn't been at home, and she'd lacked the key needed to get in anyways. She didn't want to go home, either. Unsafe, unsafe. Too unsafe.
    
   Nichol would be sleeping, and Hayleigh had Bane. She didn't trust Bane, no. And Nichol, if she was honest, would raise questions with the guild. The Guild... There. She could go there. Amy clutched at her broken arm, her dagger like a lifeline in her left hand. It was hard to breathe, and so she moved slower, to keep her breathing under control, and it just made the shaking worse.
    
   She sobbed, a sound that was a mix of relief and sadness as the guild building finally came into sight, and weakly, she slammed her fist against the door. Like the key to her sister's place, she didn't have her key to the building. It was so cold. She needed rest. To sleep... "Marius? Someone! Please! Let me in! It's Amy! Please!"
    
   The woman slid to her knees, shaking. So much had happened, and the attack mixed and twisted with her previous attack, and she cried. Truly and fully cried, there, in the rain, near naked and broken, hoping anyone would come to her rescue. She was pathetic, useless... tainted...
   
3. 

   Terror In The Night [cw]

   Started by The Lich King · February 11, 2018

   Content warning: This thread contains sexual violence (non-con).
    
   The recently crowned Lich King skulked across the darkened, rainsoaked rooftops of the Cliff's Edge district, a dark grin visible behind the dark helmet as he tested his control of the small group of undead he had managed to amass in the sewers since claiming the helm. Dominating them had been easy; he had always had a domineering personality and in comparison to that pitiful Orc who he had already silenced in his mind they were quickly subdued once created. No, what was taking time was learning to guide them remotely with his mind. He had never exactly been a magically gifted man, and it felt strange to be controlling anything with his thoughts, let alone a growing horde of undead. Stopping at the edge of a worn roof, he looked down into the alley below at one of the city's guards who was patrolling the alleyways and streets, protecting the people of Chiselwall from danger.
    
   Sneering disdainfully as the young man turned around at the mouth of the alley and began walking towards the other end, the Lich King began silently descending to the worn paving stones below. He had been planning on bringing his growing force of Undead, comprised mostly of the former homeless and displaced he had found in the sewers, up from the sewer entrance in this alley but the damned guard would certainly notice the scraping of the grate and the scuffling of feet. No, he would have to be dealt with personally before the Lich King could unleash the horde on the unsuspecting sheep who slept peacefully in the buildings around him. As his bare feet settled silently upon the alley floor he began skulking after the unsuspecting guard, his right hand slipping a wicked dagger with the barrel of a pistol slung under it's faintly glowing, blue blade from its holster on his belt.
    
   Coming up behind the man as his undead began scaling the ladder towards the surface, his left hand shot around and clenched tightly across the guard's mouth, cutting off his ability to speak as the razor sharp, chilling blade of the dagger nicked against his throat. The guard's eyes went wide in surprise and terror, both hands shooting up to try in vain to fight off the grip on his mouth, as the Lich King leaned in and spoke softly into his left ear with a rough, gravelly voice. \"I love the scent of fear in the night; it's so...enticing...\" The guard's struggling intensified at the words, his pupils tightening into panicked pinheads as he kicked and pounded against his attacker to no avail. \"Unfortunately I don't have time to play with my food and you're hardly worthy of the gifts I can offer. No, I think your place is with the people you've sworn to protect...\"
    
   At his words the sewer grate lifted and slid to the side with a scrape as undead began pulling themselves up into the alley, their corpses recognizable as belonging to the homeless and forgotten who had made the sewers their homes in desperation. The Lich King forced the young guard to turn with him, the man's muffled shouts turning into full blown screams of alarm as he realized the gravity of the situation. The acrid scent of urine filled the Lich King's nostrils as the man lost control of his bladder as well as his senses, screaming and fighting as much as he could. With a predatory grin he drew the blade of the dagger across the guard's throat, the man's screams dying with the rest of him as his soul was drawn into the cursed blade. Releasing the guard's body, the Lich King let the armored corpse slump to the blood-stained ground and crouched over it, one hand held over the guard's chest as sickly green energy flowed into the body.
    
   With a quiet, rasping groan the semblance of life returned to the guard, the newly risen undead rising to it's feet as it's master moved to the nearest building and quickly picked the crude lock. Pushing the door open he moved from door to door, opening every entrance he could find in the alley to allow his minions entrance into the over-packed dwellings. Once all had been opened he mentally gave the command for them to attack, ignoring their movements as he knelt and ran two fingers through the pooled blood from the guard's death. Working quickly he inscribed a necromantic rune onto each door, saving the last burst of energy that would ignite them until he was ready to activate them, and climbed back up to the rooftops. Lurking in the shadows, a dark, toothy smile crossed his face as the first, shrill scream pierced the peace of the night. Those who died tonight would join his horde of the dead; after-all, what was a king without an army?
   
4. 

   Cold Inside

   Started by Tired Old Soldiers · December 27, 2017

   [dohtml]http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Oswald|Open+Sans+Condensed:300|Fjalla+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
   Tag: Open † Location: Somewhere in the streets of Goldbarrow
   It was cold and wet and he hated it. Kylo had not been in Chiselwall long. He'd been there a week, perhaps - he wasn't sure the exact length due to having to cool his heels in a cell until he was calm enough to be reasoned with. That had been stupid on his part, but the situation he'd been in back home, the terror and fury he'd felt upon seeing Luke, and then the loss of the Force one right after another had pushed him past his breaking point.
   None of what he'd been told made any sense to him, but after he'd scouted out the majority of the districts of the city and had spoken with many others he'd realized just how real it was and how bad a situation he'd found himself in. Part of him - more than he was willing to admit, truth be told - was relieved at being pulled away from everything back home. All the pain, the anger, the fear, and the pull he felt from both the light and the dark that had been tearing him apart was gone.
   In its place was a strange sort of calm, though he could feel a rising hysteria underneath, and he knew that if he did not find something to ground him, to center him, he could lose far more than he already had. He was aware that his temper fits back home had been unhealthy, but he'd struggled to find effective ways to vent his emotions. Under Luke, before the man had betrayed him, he'd felt safe enough to talk, to share. But after the man he'd started to look up to as a father-figure had drawn his lightsaber on him, he'd changed. And Snoke hadn't tolerated any of his strong and sometimes wild emotions, instead mocking and chastising him when he couldn't control them, and therefore made mistakes.
   Part of him knew how stunted his development had been, but it was hard to admit that sort of thing to yourself, let alone anyone else. He'd felt such a connection to Rey. He'd hoped that they could share things, but even she had turned on him in the end. He felt something snap in his hand and looked down, startled. The charcoal he'd found and had been using to write a list of things he needed to do had first snapped in two and then turned to small fragments as he'd clenched it tighter and tighter.
   Snarling in disgust, he threw it onto a nearby snowbank, already dirty from the coal in the air from various things around the city. He took a deep breath, his emotions roiling just under the surface, and looked around, trying to find the shops he'd planned on visiting. He needed clothing, he needed work, and he needed a place that was not the inn. He knew he had to be quite a sight, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and having a mini-meltdown right in front of everyone.
   Calm. I can be calm.
   ... ... ...
   This is ridiculous.
   
   Notes: Kylo hates everything and everyone right now. From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun
   ( ♛ DORIAN PAVUS ♛ )
5. 

   There's A Spy Among Us

   Started by Marius · December 24, 2017

   #aquarius { width: 400px; height: auto; position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; outline: 1px solid #444; padding-top: 180px; padding-bottom: 100px; } #aquarius icon { position: absolute; height: 80px; width: 80px; display: block; background-size: cover; left: 50px; top: 50px; outline: 1px solid #444; z-index: 1; } #aquarius ln { position: absolute; background: #444; height: 1px; width: 400px; top: 180px; display: block; } #aquarius quote { display: flex; position: absolute; width: 180px; height: 80px; overflow: hidden; font-size: 9px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: libre baskerville; text-align: justify; align-items: center; color: #828c8b; top: 50px; right: 50px; line-height: 130%; opacity: 1; } #aquarius quotetext { display: block; opacity: 1; transition: 1s; transition-delay: 0.5s; } #aquarius:hover quotetext { opacity: 0; transition: 1s; } #aquarius tag { position: absolute; display: block; opacity: 0; text-align: center; width: 180px; transition: 1s; font-size: 13px; } #aquarius:hover tag { opacity: 1; transition: 1s; transition-delay: 0.5s; } #aquarius text { font-family: roboto; color: #777; position: relative; height: auto; width: 300px; top:50px; left: 50px; display: block; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; } #aquarius b { font-family: libre franklin; color: #828c8b; } EVERY MORNING I'M STARING SHADOWS IN THE EYE @ Amelya Shipwright Marius was frustrated. Somebody within the organization was feeding information back to the guard. He hadn't had any success at pinning them down yet, and that was bad, very bad. Bad for business, bad for the members of the guild, and bad for him as the leader. It wasn't his fault - whoever the mole was, they'd been there a long time and had gone undetected.
     The previous guildmaster hadn't been a fool, but he had sometimes been lax. That laxness is what had allowed Marius to get close and stick a dagger in his back to take over the guild. He wasn't nearly as trusting as his predecessor had been though, and nobody got that close [literally or figuratively].
    
   He'd started talking to the older members of the guild, one by one, to get their thoughts and feelings on the matter. The locals thought it was an outsider, the outsiders thought it was a local. He himself wasn't sure. Whoever it was, they had a focus on the drug portion of the guild - the dealers took falls far more than anyone else. Occasionally an assassin did too, and for jobs that only a member of the guild knew details on. It was clear somebody was playing them - it was just a matter of finding who.
    
   Marius was sitting at his desk, waiting for the next long-time member - Amy Ross. No one was beyond suspicion, of course, but no one had pointed the finger in her direction as of yet and she was a loyal and devoted member from everything he'd seen. Of course, appearances could be deceiving, but he had no real reason to doubt her. Several others, on the other hand... well, they'd gotten in trouble with the guard and yet had repeatedly gotten out with a slap on the wrist.
    
   He suspected it was one of them - there was a thief, an assassin, and a merc for hire who were in and out much faster than they should have been. Amy, Vlad, and a few of the others had had occasional run-ins too, but they'd always served their full sentence. And they rarely got caught too, which made him suspect them far less. It would be easier to pass along information if one was constantly in and out of the jail, and they weren't.
    
   The guild leader looked up as the door opened and smiled. "Ah. Amy. Please come in, and take a seat. I'm sure you've heard why I'm calling everyone in one at a time by now."
   MONTY
6. 

   Shipwright, Amelya

   Started by Amelya Shipwright · November 29, 2017

   /************************************************* SEA SITE TEMPLATES BY NICOLE/THUNDERSTRUCK OF CTTW.JCINK.NET SET INCLUDES - site rules - site plot/general template - site app + accepted/pending/denied reply codes - site claims - canon claims *************************************************/ .n-sea { width: 370px; height: auto; background: #eee url(http://i.imgur.com/fwB6J41.png); padding: 40px; margin: 3px auto; font: normal normal normal 11px/120% 'Arial', sans-serif; text-align: justify; color: black; } .n-sea h1 { margin: 0 0 10px; background-color: #434343; padding: 20px; border-bottom: 5px solid #252525; color: #f1f1f1; text-align: center; font: italic normal normal 26px/100% 'Lora', serif; } .n-sea h2 { color: #434343; text-align: center; margin: 20px 20px 10px; border-bottom: 1px solid #ccc; padding: 0 0 5px; font: italic normal bold 12px/100% 'Lora', serif; text-transform: uppercase; } .n-sea a { color: #666; text-decoration: none; } .n-sea a:hover { color: #999; } .n-sea p:last-child { margin-bottom: 0; } .n-sea .n-p-main { background-color: #fff; padding: 20px; border-bottom: 5px solid #434343; } .n-sea ol { margin: 15px 0; padding: 0 0 0 40px; } .n-sea ol li { padding: 0; margin: 5px 0; } .n-sea strong { font-family: 'Lora', serif; text-transform: lowercase; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-size: 1.3em; color: #434343; } .n-sea strong.taken, .n-sea strong.open { margin-top: 0.8em; } .n-sea strong.taken { text-decoration: line-through; } .n-sea pre { white-space: pre-wrap; border-bottom: 2px solid #ddd; border-top: 2px solid #ddd; padding: 10px; } .n-sea .sea-claims { -webkit-column-count: 2; /* Chrome, Safari, Opera */ -moz-column-count: 2; /* Firefox */ column-count: 2; margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; } .n-sea .sea-claims h2 { margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; } .n-sea .sea-claims h2:first-child {margin-top: 0; } .n-sea h3 { font: normal normal bold 8px/100% 'Arial', sans-serif; text-transform: uppercase; margin: 0 20px 5px; text-align: center; } .n-sea h4 { font: normal normal bold 8px/100% 'Arial', sans-serif; text-transform: uppercase; margin: 0 20px; text-align: center; } .n-sea ul { margin: 10px; padding: 0 40px; } .sea-canons ul li { margin: 5px 0; } /******** TABBED APPLICATION *********/ .n-sea-app .n-p-main { margin-top: 50px; padding: 5px; } .n-sea-app h2:first-child { margin-top: 10px; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tabs { position: relative; min-height: 200px; /* This part sucks */ clear: both; margin: 0; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab { float: left; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab label { padding: 8px 13px; background-color: #434343; color: #fff; margin: 0 5px; position: relative; top: -36px; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab:nth-of-type(1) label { margin-left: 98px; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-tab [type=radio] { display: none; } .n-sea-app .n-sea-content { position: absolute; top: 10px; left: 10px; background: white; right: 10px; bottom: 10px; padding: 0; opacity: 0; } .n-sea-app [type=radio]:checked ~ label { background: #252525; z-index: 2; } .n-sea-app [type=radio]:checked ~ label ~ .n-sea-content { z-index: 1; opacity: 1; } .n-sea hr { margin: 1.2em 10%; border: none; height: 1px; background-color: #ddd; } .n-sea ::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 3px; } .n-sea ::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background-color: #eee; } .n-sea ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background-color: #bbb; } Amelya Shipwright
   I II 30 . Rogue . N/A . Worker
   Amelya's life was fairly ordinary, though for her, it was miserable. The woman felt confined, and she knew there was more to life then being married off, even if that's what her parents wanted for her. It would make their station in life secure, and make sure Amelya was taken care of in the long run. She hated it, and was very vocal about it. The girl and her parents constantly butted heads, and the tension was made worse when her father was injured and couldn't work. Theft or selling herself were the two options, alongside her mother and older sister. While the other two chose the latter, she went for the former, taking too much pride in herself to submit to a man for money.
   It was through her thieving that she gained a good amount of skill in stealth, but the beginning was fraught with encounters with the guards. This left her in the jail for a night, leaving her with a warm meal at least and a roof over her head. But it wasn't providing for her family. Every night in jail was another lesson learned, and she was captured less and less. Eventually, Chief Nichol Strongsteel extended her an offer to go undercover for them. She would be paid and protected, and she said she would think about it.
   
   The first war came, leaving the city in disarray and a prime target for many criminals. It definitely left many shops closed, and Amelya found food to be a good material to fence, slowly getting better at hawking what she stole to pawnshops and to other interested parties. That is, until one night, when someone she didn't recognise cornered her in an alley and beat and raped her.
   
   It was a message. A message to her father and sister to pay their dues for the drugs they'd been addicted to. Amelya took Chief Strongsteel's offer, and began working to gain the attention of the Rogue's Guild. It worked, and she was able to keep an eye on what came and went through the Guild. She became known as Amy Ross there, and she fit in well.
   
   As she became more proficient and trusted in the guild, she learned more and more of the drug trade through her contacts, and bit by bit chipped away at some in the city, handing over the evidence she'd gathered to the constables and investigators. When the Civil War came, Amelya kept her head down, doing her job even as her main protector, Nichol, left to fight. Nightmares plagued her from her attack, and she just wished he'd return. They'd grown close, but he didn't return her feelings, and she didn't blame him. She was tainted.
   
   Finally, the man returned, and she was able to continue her work, knowing the man had her back. And that is what she's been doing to this day.
   III Shirelin
   EST . other characters: Thelessia, Rowen, Ysabelle, etc
   
7. 

   Demon Bait

   Started by John Constantine · November 25, 2017

   [dohtml]
   http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Lora:400,700,400italic,700italic|Montserrat:400,700|Radley:400,400italic' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>I've been looking for an original sinJohn sat back on his heels. He should have asked somebody for help - he had plenty of contacts in the city now, but he hated getting others involved in dangerous work where demons were the target. All too often that ended in bloodshed and sorrow, and John had another soul weighing heavily on his shoulders. No thanks.
   So there he was, completely alone and half naked in the center of a summoning circle. If this went badly it was gonna hurt like hell, and those friends he'd neglected to tell about his little 'adventure' were either going to find his mutilated corpse, or have a possessed John Constantine on their hands. Neither option really appealed to him, so he really hoped that it went down how he wanted.
   The candles were lit, the incense burning exactly so, and the chalk lines were all carefully laid out. Now he just had to chant the ritual words and the thing would come. It was something not from this world - in fact he was fairly certain it was from his world due to the nature of the beast. He was banking on that, because the binding circle he'd hidden just outside the summoning one wouldn't work as well [or at all] if it wasn't.
   Once the words were spoken, a whoosh of air blew out all the candles, plunging the empty warehouse into darkness. \"Fuck.\" He should have planned for that and had some of the lanterns the engineers used on windy nights handy. Muttering a quick illumination spell under his breath, he winced as light suddenly flooded the area again.
   The light bounced off a positively massive form now in the circle with him. John looked up, and had to take a step back and crane his neck to see the thing's head. \"Oh, fuck me.\" This wasn't the demon he'd thought. It was one from his realm, but this nasty was far more powerful than the one he'd thought he was catching.
   \"That's a great idea, exorcist. I think I'll do just that.\"
   Oh, hell no. John jumped back as the demon reached for him, and then carefully stepped over the containment circle. If he smudged that, he was well and truly [literally] fucked and he didn't relish the idea of this massive demon doing anything of the sort. Once outside the circle, he eyed the demon warily, grabbed his shirt and tie, and began dressing quickly.
   The whole while he was chanting under his breath, strengthening the containment field and hoping that it was strong enough. Bright flashes of orange energy lit up the warehouse as the demon pounded on the energy field that sprang up when it tried to cross the barrier, and he was sure they were visible outside as well. Hope nobody comes to investigate. This could get ugly real fast, he thought as he scrambled to assemble ingredients for a quick protection spell for himself. If it got out, he wanted to make damn sure it couldn't get its greedy paws on him.
   [/dohtml]
8. 

   Out Of The Frying Pan...

   Started by Gaspard Lebeau · November 23, 2017

   [dohtml]
   It’s hard to fly when you can’t even runOnce I had the world, but now I’ve got no one tag Gaspard really, really didn't like this realm. He was trying to adapt as best he could. He'd even found a position with the local rogues guild, which was an expanded version of the Thieves Guild he was familiar with back home. It was weird to see the assassins and others all in one place and [mostly] getting along. There'd always been tension between the Thieves and Assassins Guilds back home, and he'd gotten hell several times for being a member of both.He didn't like work, and in fact would generally turn contracts down unless it was someone who seriously deserved to be not-living anymore, but occasionally he had been strapped for cash and he'd had to go back to his roots as an assassin. Many of the others there hadn't understood how he could have turned 'spineless'. Most of them were cold blooded killers who'd have stabbed their own mama in the back though. He'd never been like that.
   The thief hated killing, and every time he'd coated his hands with somebody else's blood [figuratively or literally], it'd killed a little of him too. When he felt stretched so thin that he could barely function he'd decided to retire. But an assassin never truly retired as long as there were those who remembered and tried to get you for new jobs.
   Here though - here he could start over, and only a select few knew of his history. He'd made it very clear to the head of the guild that he was not interested in being listed as one of their killers for hire, and he'd only do specific jobs. It hadn't taken him long to outline those sorts of jobs, and the guy had seemed understanding. He'd not once asked for Gaspard to go on a job when he couldn't find someone else, and that'd helped him to relax a lot.
   But right now he was bored. He wanted a challenge of a burglery or a heist or something and nobody was looking for work of the sort. Marius had finally gotten fed up and told him to get the hell out of the guild HQ and go pester someone else. That's when he'd hatched the plan to go poke around the castle. It wasn't really a castle like some of the ones back home - it was too small for that, but it was still pretty impressive.
   He'd been wandering around, acting like he belonged for the better part of two hours and no one had even stopped once to question why he was there. It was rather amusing. He'd scouted most of the areas, aside from the treasury, which he couldn't get to due to the damnable magick. He was still unsettled by the stuff - it wasn't something they really had back home, and the fact that there were people who could look at you, whisper some code-word and set you ablaze [or worse] scared the shit out of him.
   Not enough to keep him out of the keep though.
   He'd just gone through the King's rooms, and had pocketed a few things. A compass that was badly water damaged was one of the things he'd taken. He vaguely remembered the commotion the older man who was friends with the king had made when it'd suddenly popped through the portal, and he'd all but fought others to get it and take it to the keep. It didn't look like much to him, but with the way people had treated it, he suspected he could get a good deal through a fence [or another third party who'd 'get it back' for the King at a hefty price]. There'd also been a bag of inks and scrolls, and he'd seen a few bits of what he thought were jewelry.
   He'd lifted a pretty big ruby that was on display in the main throne room, though that's what had him running like hell now. It had apparently had some sort of magickal booby trap attached to it, because the moment he'd picked it up an earsplitting screech had pierced the air through the entire castle. He'd also found himself caught in some sort of gravity thing that made movement very difficult. He'd finally tossed a rope with a loop around one of the half pillars that was too large to pull over and had hauled himself out of the field.
   There were angry shouts behind him now though, and he ducked out one of the wide open windows to sprint across the rooftop. There were other rooftops nearby, and if he got enough speed he knew he could clear the distance easily. Booking it even faster, he jumped, hit the roof he'd aimed for, rolled back to his feet, and came face to face with someone glaring at him.
   \"Er... Hi. Funny running into someone on the roof like this. What brings you up here?\" He gave them his most charming smile, and began edging toward the next roof, which wasn't even a jump to get to. There was an attic window open there, and if he could just get inside he could 'disappear' for a while.
   BY MITZI [/dohtml]

Other Characters by this Player