15-05-2018, 09:33 PM
In Game Name (IGN): VirtigoVII
How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…)
I was sick of the last server I was on (I won't name it for obvious reasons) being non-inclusive and simply not having enough people in one place. The map was too big. My stubborn self likes to stay on one server, but I'd had enough. I want to seriously roleplay. I decided to spend about an hour browsing server listing sites, videos, and eventually I found Mesalia on The Roleplay Periodical.
About You:
I'm finally done with a busy year and now I can get back to my hobbies. I enjoy reading, writing, drawing, roleplaying, gaming, and playing my mandolin, guitar, piano, and flute. I'm also collecting PS2 games, if that's interesting to anybody at all. I lift?
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Appearance: Vadaxin'zaar stands at a fearsome five feet tall. With a generous smear of darkness and fatigue under her almond eyes of sage and celadon, she's a desolate look to her. Her rosy cherub lips seldom part, nor move at all; it's as if she doesn't breathe. Vada's skin is porcelain, fettered by nothing other than warm papaya and honey freckles that gather around her dainty nose's bridge. FRaming her face before falling into long, luscious waves is her hair of saffron. It spills like merlot down her back and off of her shoulders if not restrained by intricate braids. Her delicate burnt ochre brows are the most expressive part of her, rising and falling with or without words to accompany the gestures.
Personality: Despite her colorful features, Vada is bereft and forlorn. She's strong, but one can't help but sometimes think she looks a little gaunt, a little gray. Albeit mournful, Vaddie can make for great conversation!... among others' talk. She's a definite spectacle, and could have easily been subject to ridicule and chastisement. Though secretive with even the most minor of things, she cannot speak a breath of a lie. With all things considered, there's still something haunting about the girl and her voice, soft as petals and as doleful as wilted ones.
Backstory: (I'd like to keep this condensed, if that's alright.) Vadaxin'zaar was content with her state of life; She lived with a beautiful, artistic mother, a hardy, intuitive father, and a glorious house (made and kept that way by her parents). They had a simple, linear way of living. Her mother was literate, and took up teaching her to write and read. However, working as a tailor (a good one, at that), Vada's mother found herself needing more time to tend to her job. With extra money earned, her parents invited a tutor to stay with them, as their house was relatively spacious and always had vacancy. Their house, situated on the side of a trading route, had a pleasant flow of potential customers and barterers. The downside to this was the lack of social expertise on Vada's part.
Alexander de Percy was a name Vadaxin'zaar would never forget, and he made sure of it. Shortly after hiring Sir Alexander, Vada's father passed away when she was ten. Though it was a gloomy day and she was young, she still had faith in his spirit manifesting itself in the night sky, and found a deep, personal comfort in this. Without her father's craft in armor and weaponry (at least she wagered, as she could only recall watching him work with bright lights and hot metals), Vada's mother was reliant on Alexander's income, thus shifting the balance of power in the household beneath their very noses.
Alexander became stricter, and acted in a way that matched his appearance. The most sun he'd get was from his walks from the front door to the middle of their field behind the house, behind a mill. His eyes were dark, devoid of emotion and honesty. His hair, though full, was white, making him look older than he was. Vada couldn't help but cringe whenever he wrung his bony, cold fingers.
His infatuation with her shifted from hope- she was and is a delightfully bright girl- to something more perverse. Over the course of five years, Alexander de Percy channeled his frustrations with things as little as ledgers to things as troublesome as foreign affairs on Vada. At first, it was common reprimand: a slap on the wrist, a stern talking-to. This Vada could take, however stupid she thought the things she was punished for were. Her mother began to travel into town to sell smaller trinkets and decor once she turned fourteen. Although successful in her trade, this did no good for Vadaxin'zaar, left alone with her tutor.
Small stutters, mumbles, and natural screw-ups soon were soon disciplined out of the question with books, rulers, and eventually a letter-opener. Vadaxin'zaar took to wearing more modest of attire: long sleeves, turtlenecks, ankle-length dresses, and gloves to hide the cuts and bruises she bore.
Worse became worst. With Vadaxin'zaar's mother traveling so much, she'd fallen ill to a common ailment and returned with it. Quarantining herself, her mother showed her face well-nigh nevermore. Many nights followed that Vada thought of running away. To where she did not know, as she'd never gone past the sparse copse surrounding their land.
Vadaxin'zaar was forced to improvise when Alexander went into a drunken stupor with a blade in hand. Clad in naught but her nightgown, she swiped a candle and burst out of the front door, quickly making her away around the house and down the path made by Alexander's periodic trips out. His confusion left him breaking things rather than bones inside the house, much to her relief. She finally came to a cellar door behind their now-aged mill. Her inquisition was roaring over the sound of her breathing and the glass breaking a few hundred feet away. One hand held the candle away from her face as the other worked at breaking the rusted lock on the door before her. It finally gave, and the true gates of Hell were thrown open. Hearing a call from Alexander suggesting he was going to come look for her, she panicked and forced herself down the abysmal tunnel before shutting the doors once more.
Defenseless, Vada was cautious with her steps on the musty, cold ground. Her effort was comprised half of patting the wall and half of squinting through candlelight, but was fruitful in finding doors. They were makeshift, old and free of any locking mechanism. Vada decides to push it open. Slipping inside, she'd trip over something clunky, falling against the wall and dropping her candle. Vada was oddly complacent with the silence of it all. She knew where she was. She could get out if she really needed to. She was safe, hidden.
Her solace was cut short after a bundle of papers to her left began to turn red, orange, and suddenly a hot yellow. Eyes widened, she'd clamber to open the door, struggling to get a grip on herself as she frantically studied her surroundings. The girl's fingers unwrap from the edge of the stiff door, now scraped and splintered. All around her were drawings- some ablaze, some dimly illuminated- of her. Her young, her older, her in less clothing than she'd ever wish for, her tied and cut... She was depicted in nearly all ideas imaginable, variations sometimes so subtle she swore she was seeing double. A sob escapes her and she tugs at the jammed door. Her fists pummel the exit now as she breaks down, losing sight of the danger slowly engulfing her. Wiping at her eyes, she coughs and kicks a wooden apparatus away from the ravenous flames. It was a wheel with a particularly large hub, a ring. It was a sinister device to devoid one of sleep, but the girl could only figure it to be junk. With one last burst of energy, the girl takes advantage of the moment and gets the door open. By memory, she makes her way to the cellar doors a final time to escape. Popping back into the field, her mother takes her by surprise. Vada tries to scream, but is silenced by a well-meaning hand.
Her mother coughs into the inside of her elbow, bringing her hand away and forming a point to bring to her lips. Mere yards away, Alexander was motionless with a shard of glass in his neck.
The current state could be described as a quiet chaos. Vada paced in the parlor, arms trembling in unison with her lips as her mother packed a bag for her. With a hug and a push out the door, Vada was on her own. All there was to follow was the stars or the road, so she meagerly took her leave. She'd essentially become devoid of all thoughts and processes other than walking and scrambling for a pouch of pay for a carriage to "Anywhere, please.'
Nightveil awaited her.
Capabilities:
Music | Instrument Skills & Singing | Competent - Vada had grown up singing, dancing, and primarily playing a violin with her mother and father's guidance. She has no desire, however, to monetize this or even make it public. It's easier for her to express her emotions through the violin... or any other instrument she could get her hands on, really. However, anything that was not stringed would have a steeper learning curve.
Fine Arts | Reading, Writing, & Drawing | Competent/Advanced - Vada knows little to nothing of color theory, but she's a naturally artistic, curious girl who was blessed by the mediums her mother was able to provide. She has no desire to monetize this, but will gladly make things for people as favors. She is only well-practiced in reading and writing, and has an extensive vocabulary.
Handicrafts | Other | Competent - Vada enjoys making herself headdresses and little jewelry pieces. As pretty as they may be, they are strictly for herself and she struggles to understand what others would want.
Tradeskills | Cuisine | Apprentice - Vada is not an extravagant cook, but she's got a sensitive palate and a promising future if she finds it necessary to pursue this. It's unlikely.
Tradeskills | Tailoring | Apprentice - Vada's mother did not have a lot of time to spare to teach Vada, but she's got the basics down, and her creativity helps widen the possibilities. It's unlikely Vada will get any better without a personal teacher.
Knowledge | Science | Competent - Vada had to force herself to near-perfection (to her level of education) to please Alexander and avoid his fury. At least something useful came out of that. The girl has a special interest in botany for cosmetic uses.
Items:
-A journal bound in deep green leather with an attached bookmark of garnet cloth.
-Sticks of charcoal.
-A canteen of water.
-A pair of glass bottles filled with fragrant creams with the consistency of lotion. They smell of bergamot, sandalwood, and citrus.
-A violin and horse-hair bow.
Additional Comments:
This is incredibly ironic, but I think this song fits Vada, title aside.
The Cellar
Pardon me if any of this is a little shifty, I've had finals this week and my brain is sort of fried. I'm really hoping this formats right. I also hope I'm putting this in the right spot. I'm notorious for being garbage with forums. Thanks for reading all of this!
How did you find us? (Forums, friend, previous member, etc…)
I was sick of the last server I was on (I won't name it for obvious reasons) being non-inclusive and simply not having enough people in one place. The map was too big. My stubborn self likes to stay on one server, but I'd had enough. I want to seriously roleplay. I decided to spend about an hour browsing server listing sites, videos, and eventually I found Mesalia on The Roleplay Periodical.
About You:
I'm finally done with a busy year and now I can get back to my hobbies. I enjoy reading, writing, drawing, roleplaying, gaming, and playing my mandolin, guitar, piano, and flute. I'm also collecting PS2 games, if that's interesting to anybody at all. I lift?
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Vadaxin'zaarAge: 15
Gender: Female
Appearance: Vadaxin'zaar stands at a fearsome five feet tall. With a generous smear of darkness and fatigue under her almond eyes of sage and celadon, she's a desolate look to her. Her rosy cherub lips seldom part, nor move at all; it's as if she doesn't breathe. Vada's skin is porcelain, fettered by nothing other than warm papaya and honey freckles that gather around her dainty nose's bridge. FRaming her face before falling into long, luscious waves is her hair of saffron. It spills like merlot down her back and off of her shoulders if not restrained by intricate braids. Her delicate burnt ochre brows are the most expressive part of her, rising and falling with or without words to accompany the gestures.
Personality: Despite her colorful features, Vada is bereft and forlorn. She's strong, but one can't help but sometimes think she looks a little gaunt, a little gray. Albeit mournful, Vaddie can make for great conversation!... among others' talk. She's a definite spectacle, and could have easily been subject to ridicule and chastisement. Though secretive with even the most minor of things, she cannot speak a breath of a lie. With all things considered, there's still something haunting about the girl and her voice, soft as petals and as doleful as wilted ones.
Backstory: (I'd like to keep this condensed, if that's alright.) Vadaxin'zaar was content with her state of life; She lived with a beautiful, artistic mother, a hardy, intuitive father, and a glorious house (made and kept that way by her parents). They had a simple, linear way of living. Her mother was literate, and took up teaching her to write and read. However, working as a tailor (a good one, at that), Vada's mother found herself needing more time to tend to her job. With extra money earned, her parents invited a tutor to stay with them, as their house was relatively spacious and always had vacancy. Their house, situated on the side of a trading route, had a pleasant flow of potential customers and barterers. The downside to this was the lack of social expertise on Vada's part.
Alexander de Percy was a name Vadaxin'zaar would never forget, and he made sure of it. Shortly after hiring Sir Alexander, Vada's father passed away when she was ten. Though it was a gloomy day and she was young, she still had faith in his spirit manifesting itself in the night sky, and found a deep, personal comfort in this. Without her father's craft in armor and weaponry (at least she wagered, as she could only recall watching him work with bright lights and hot metals), Vada's mother was reliant on Alexander's income, thus shifting the balance of power in the household beneath their very noses.
Alexander became stricter, and acted in a way that matched his appearance. The most sun he'd get was from his walks from the front door to the middle of their field behind the house, behind a mill. His eyes were dark, devoid of emotion and honesty. His hair, though full, was white, making him look older than he was. Vada couldn't help but cringe whenever he wrung his bony, cold fingers.
His infatuation with her shifted from hope- she was and is a delightfully bright girl- to something more perverse. Over the course of five years, Alexander de Percy channeled his frustrations with things as little as ledgers to things as troublesome as foreign affairs on Vada. At first, it was common reprimand: a slap on the wrist, a stern talking-to. This Vada could take, however stupid she thought the things she was punished for were. Her mother began to travel into town to sell smaller trinkets and decor once she turned fourteen. Although successful in her trade, this did no good for Vadaxin'zaar, left alone with her tutor.
Small stutters, mumbles, and natural screw-ups soon were soon disciplined out of the question with books, rulers, and eventually a letter-opener. Vadaxin'zaar took to wearing more modest of attire: long sleeves, turtlenecks, ankle-length dresses, and gloves to hide the cuts and bruises she bore.
Worse became worst. With Vadaxin'zaar's mother traveling so much, she'd fallen ill to a common ailment and returned with it. Quarantining herself, her mother showed her face well-nigh nevermore. Many nights followed that Vada thought of running away. To where she did not know, as she'd never gone past the sparse copse surrounding their land.
Vadaxin'zaar was forced to improvise when Alexander went into a drunken stupor with a blade in hand. Clad in naught but her nightgown, she swiped a candle and burst out of the front door, quickly making her away around the house and down the path made by Alexander's periodic trips out. His confusion left him breaking things rather than bones inside the house, much to her relief. She finally came to a cellar door behind their now-aged mill. Her inquisition was roaring over the sound of her breathing and the glass breaking a few hundred feet away. One hand held the candle away from her face as the other worked at breaking the rusted lock on the door before her. It finally gave, and the true gates of Hell were thrown open. Hearing a call from Alexander suggesting he was going to come look for her, she panicked and forced herself down the abysmal tunnel before shutting the doors once more.
Defenseless, Vada was cautious with her steps on the musty, cold ground. Her effort was comprised half of patting the wall and half of squinting through candlelight, but was fruitful in finding doors. They were makeshift, old and free of any locking mechanism. Vada decides to push it open. Slipping inside, she'd trip over something clunky, falling against the wall and dropping her candle. Vada was oddly complacent with the silence of it all. She knew where she was. She could get out if she really needed to. She was safe, hidden.
Her solace was cut short after a bundle of papers to her left began to turn red, orange, and suddenly a hot yellow. Eyes widened, she'd clamber to open the door, struggling to get a grip on herself as she frantically studied her surroundings. The girl's fingers unwrap from the edge of the stiff door, now scraped and splintered. All around her were drawings- some ablaze, some dimly illuminated- of her. Her young, her older, her in less clothing than she'd ever wish for, her tied and cut... She was depicted in nearly all ideas imaginable, variations sometimes so subtle she swore she was seeing double. A sob escapes her and she tugs at the jammed door. Her fists pummel the exit now as she breaks down, losing sight of the danger slowly engulfing her. Wiping at her eyes, she coughs and kicks a wooden apparatus away from the ravenous flames. It was a wheel with a particularly large hub, a ring. It was a sinister device to devoid one of sleep, but the girl could only figure it to be junk. With one last burst of energy, the girl takes advantage of the moment and gets the door open. By memory, she makes her way to the cellar doors a final time to escape. Popping back into the field, her mother takes her by surprise. Vada tries to scream, but is silenced by a well-meaning hand.
Her mother coughs into the inside of her elbow, bringing her hand away and forming a point to bring to her lips. Mere yards away, Alexander was motionless with a shard of glass in his neck.
The current state could be described as a quiet chaos. Vada paced in the parlor, arms trembling in unison with her lips as her mother packed a bag for her. With a hug and a push out the door, Vada was on her own. All there was to follow was the stars or the road, so she meagerly took her leave. She'd essentially become devoid of all thoughts and processes other than walking and scrambling for a pouch of pay for a carriage to "Anywhere, please.'
Nightveil awaited her.
Capabilities:
Music | Instrument Skills & Singing | Competent - Vada had grown up singing, dancing, and primarily playing a violin with her mother and father's guidance. She has no desire, however, to monetize this or even make it public. It's easier for her to express her emotions through the violin... or any other instrument she could get her hands on, really. However, anything that was not stringed would have a steeper learning curve.
Fine Arts | Reading, Writing, & Drawing | Competent/Advanced - Vada knows little to nothing of color theory, but she's a naturally artistic, curious girl who was blessed by the mediums her mother was able to provide. She has no desire to monetize this, but will gladly make things for people as favors. She is only well-practiced in reading and writing, and has an extensive vocabulary.
Handicrafts | Other | Competent - Vada enjoys making herself headdresses and little jewelry pieces. As pretty as they may be, they are strictly for herself and she struggles to understand what others would want.
Tradeskills | Cuisine | Apprentice - Vada is not an extravagant cook, but she's got a sensitive palate and a promising future if she finds it necessary to pursue this. It's unlikely.
Tradeskills | Tailoring | Apprentice - Vada's mother did not have a lot of time to spare to teach Vada, but she's got the basics down, and her creativity helps widen the possibilities. It's unlikely Vada will get any better without a personal teacher.
Knowledge | Science | Competent - Vada had to force herself to near-perfection (to her level of education) to please Alexander and avoid his fury. At least something useful came out of that. The girl has a special interest in botany for cosmetic uses.
Items:
-A journal bound in deep green leather with an attached bookmark of garnet cloth.
-Sticks of charcoal.
-A canteen of water.
-A pair of glass bottles filled with fragrant creams with the consistency of lotion. They smell of bergamot, sandalwood, and citrus.
-A violin and horse-hair bow.
Additional Comments:
This is incredibly ironic, but I think this song fits Vada, title aside.
The Cellar
Pardon me if any of this is a little shifty, I've had finals this week and my brain is sort of fried. I'm really hoping this formats right. I also hope I'm putting this in the right spot. I'm notorious for being garbage with forums. Thanks for reading all of this!