| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
| Fei-Fei | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Thu Jan 25, 2007 1:26 am (562 Views) | |
| Feiori | Thu Jan 25, 2007 1:26 am Post #1 |
![]() ![]()
|
![]() You don't recover from a night like this. A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless. A hand moves in the dark to a zipper. Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets barely whisper, "This is so messed up." Name: Feiori Taispen Gender: Male Race: Half Elf Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Height: 6' 4" Weight: 154 Age: 18 Hair: Dark red, almost brown. Eyes: Sharp and startlingly green. Build: Tall and almost painfully slender. Orientation: He's unsure at the moment. Family: Gerald Ren Taispen - Father. A big man, many find him intimidating because of his size and he usually finds ways to use that to his advantage. Human. Ellehnai de Ch'Ammahn - Mother. An impossibly beautiful woman of high status among her elven society. Elven. Aelvin Ayhene - Half sister. Whereabouts unknown. Elven. Personality: As of late he finds himself afraid of common situations. He doesn't know how to speak to people anymore, after so long alone on the road and so many unpleasant experiences. He's petrified to think of what could happen if anyone were to see his pointed ears, self-consious of them to an extreme. He's quick to act, if not so to think. Feiori's a strong believer in the 'Better Safe Than Sorry' faith and prefers to not leave a locked room unarmed. Paranoid, maybe. He's a worrier, dwelling on things that may not matter at all to anyone else. Often anxious and tense, he's suspicious of almost every new person he meets, expecting the worst. Perhaps it's the elf in him, he's a lover of music and animals, nature in general. He owns a wooden flute, carved with delicate elven calligraphy he's given up on trying to learn to read. His comfort item. Insanely Long History: It sufficed to say that Gerald did not get on well with his wifes family. In fact, shortly after Feiori was born the two of them were forced away and Ellehnai was to, almost immediately, remarry within the elven society. Gerald took his son back to the small port town where he had grown up and took to working at his brother Pells fish and supply shop near the docks. His father never outright told him what had happened to his mother, instead hinting at her death, and Feiori took his word for it. Up until just after he turned eleven, and his father left. No warning, just a hurried 'I'll be back for you,' as he rushed out the door into the blackness. Feiori was to live with his uncle until his father returned, working at the store in his fathers place. His friends Calan and Derryl were sympathetic, even if he was always sure hed never told them what had happened. They knew what he was, his father had told them. They didn't care. Several years passed, uneventful, Pell slowly harbouring a bitter hatred for his nephew. Moreso, at his brother for his absence. He took it out on Feiori more often than not, either way. Most nights Feiori would spent at Calans house just to avoid the man. And on the night of his sixteenth birthday, at Calans insistance, they snuck out, collected Derryl, and left town. Just like that. Concerned his father would return only to find him gone, Feiori left a note in his fathers long-unused bedroom. Calan though he was being rediculous, but Calan rarely took anything seriously. The three of them didn't travel far before they were seperated. There was a deranged girl who become convinced Feiori had killed her brother, and made an attempt at his life. He escaped one way, and Calan and Derryl the other. Terrified, he sought new company, and soon found a young man and woman, Liaidan Arment and Tiarrah D'Eirtou headed towards a place called "Newcastle", where Liaidan was captured by his demon father - Lord Torn. Tiah and Feiori were forced to leave upon threat of death, and they never saw him again. Rumour said the young man had been murdered, but they refused to believe it. Two years Feiori and Tiah spent together in a rented room in a city full of refugees and various working men put out of jobs by a new imperialistic government run, so they heard, by Liaidan's father. Word was the man wanted to send an army to expand his reign, but the lands lack of resources prevented action. Feiori and Tiah were at a loss as to what to do next. Try a desperate rescue mission for Liaidan which would surely end in, most likely, death? Or simply move from Lord Torns reach? They chose the latter, Tiah heartbroken at leaving her old friend to the fate inevitably waiting for him. They were staying at an inn, not halfway from their desination when Tiah abandoned their plan in persuit of her brother. She had spoken of him at length, how he had apparently betrayed their village to demons and how it was his fault she and her entire family and friends; everyone she had known, were dead. Feiori hadn't believed she would actually leave him, and he awoke the next morning shocked. He was too afraid to leave the inn, much less his room. When he ran out of money, they kicked him out and he took to the road again, shaken. He couldn't bring himself to agree to new travelling companions. There were plenty of young people heading to the same place he was, but what if something else were to happen? He decided to remain alone. He was beginning to think the journey would never come to an end. The constant near-death experiences, vampire encounters and dragons were beginning to take their toll, and he knew we wasn't the same person who had been hauling crates of fish at his uncles shop. In his travels he became fearful of things his mind made him see; mainly himself dead. He began to avoid sleep, preferring not to see those gruesome images behind his eyelids at night. He couldn't eat meat anymore, but that had been a developing habit. He could understand animals. Their thoughts filled his head as if they were speaking, and though he couldn't do the same when he did speak to them they understood. One wolf in particular found this intruiging, and soon was following Feiori from town to town. He allowed the animal to stay at the fringe of his campsite, but as time passed the wolf was soon curled up next to him near the fire at night. Alkaru, he called himself. Feiori was skeptical the wolf wouldn't just decide one day that it would desert him in the middle of the forest, but eventually, found himself glad he hadn't chased it off. He didn't miss Calan and Derryl and his father as much when he had Alkaru, and he barely noticed when they had found a safe place. Word came to him of his father returning home, and estatic, he quickly made the journey home. However, something had gone seriously wrong. Thick silence hung over the town as he rode in, his horses hooves echoing ominously off the abandoned buildings. He entered the town green, halting briefly to shush Alkarus growling, and then turned back to discover his father, Pell and Derryl hanging by dark ropes. There was a woman in an elegant green dress, dead just beneath Gerald. In a state of shock he moved towards them, leaving his horse. She had pointed ears. He assumed this woman must be his mother. Unable to breathe, he wasn't aware of the armed men closing in around him. He gripped Derryls hand, just to the left of his head, and his mothers. The men were trying to take him away. He slowly became aware of Alkarus pained whimpers, and he felt something in himself snap. He drew his weapon and killed the three men holding his wolf, and one trying to knock him out, before they were successful. Alkaru escaped, at least. He had heard Newcastle was a nice place, but upon arriving found it quite the opposite. He found Liaidan, in a dungeon cell conveniently opposite his own. Together, and apparently filled with a new hope, they managed to get away. Feiori was glad, they had been planning his execution. Treason, they said. Feiori didn't allow himself to get attached this time around, and wisely, he thought. It wasn't long until Liaidan went his own way, into hiding. Or so Feiori assumed. Unsure of his surroundings, he slowly made his way back to where he thought things would be calmer. At least things started to look up from there. He found his wolf. RP Log; [[Velien-- Distance// [[Kinx-- Lurker [[Musa Saphire-- Patented Poster// [[Gregory Faust-- Horizons-Way// |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Character Descriptions · Next Topic » |






2:13 PM Jul 11

