Jump to content


  • Content count

  • Joined

  • Last visited


About Anon

  • Rank
  • Birthday January 15

Contact Methods

  • Skype

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    New York

Recent Profile Visitors

558 profile views
  1. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    Everything she was continued to hold him, binding him to her form. It was quite refreshing, feeling free. Here, there were no assumptions or expectations. Syr had begun on this journey with this beautiful stranger, and was determined to see it through. He looked at her more carefully now, free from the clamor of customers. A lifetime in his world forced his eyes to all of her softest, most vulnerable points, as was custom when he was forced into such close proximity to another person. Even so, his eyes darted quickly to hers every odd breath, and he realized that he hadn't been forced into close proximity; he chose it. Once he understood where he was, and more importantly why he was, the Hooded Figure found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. Esme traced every feature she could see with an inquisitive eye. Syr shifted slightly under her gaze, almost painfully aware that she could most likely see right through him. Once more, she made him feel just a twinge unsure of himself. Syr was by no means an unattractive man, but the kind of people that existed in Esme's world were far better looking than himself. His features were sharp and rugged, but with a smooth delicacy that suggested some inhuman influence. It was specifically this influence, he suspected, that kept him from looking like a moving sculpture and more like a living being. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by the most delicate hand he had ever seen. A storm brewed in Syr's stomach. He had promised this woman anything in exchange for... well he wasn't really sure what he had bartered for. Waves of excitement washed over Syr at the prospect of dancing. It had been ages since he had danced, and even longer since he had done it for fun. He stood immediately, beaming. He stepped behind the bar once more and unbuckled a belt underneath his vest, just above the one holding his pants up. Bending down for a moment, he removed the two daggers from the belt and affixed them to the sides of his calves. Once he had finished rolling his pant legs back down he emerged from behind the bar for the final time, and took his place before her, the leather sheathes rubbing against his bare skin for the first time in longer than he cared to admit. "The honor would be mine" he said, doing his best worst imitation of a pompous nobleman. Syr outstretched his hand to Esme, and took in her entirety for the first time. She was a bit smaller than he had expected, her eyes at about mid chest. Even with his lithe form, she could almost hide her entire body behind his. Syr turned to face the crowd, maintaining a gentle grasp of her hand, and allowed his guide to lead the way. @Aleksei
  2. Wyld World OOC

    Sounds good to me! Ill probably post either today or tomorrow.
  3. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    Fear guided the Hooded Figure now. Far from the unfeeling assassin one would picture, Syr's acute sensitivity to his own emotions had saved him more than once. This time, however, he knew there was nothing he could do. When one explores the many ways to die, this circumstance never seems to come up. As Syr was quickly realizing, this may be one of the more cruel ends one can endure. He was not long for her world. Each shift in her form killed him more. Each of her coltish gestures drew a breath he would never get back. Soon those breaths would be the only things left to prove that he was here at all. Well, if that was the case then he had nothing to lose. Syr had been close to dying more times than his pride would allow him to admit, and each time he hadn't been scared enough to let go and rest. There was no fight this time. Esme leaned in to meet his whisper, and lightning jolted down Syr's spine. His smile only grew. She turned to the crowd and back again in a whirl of fabric and delicate curls. The ease of her joviality struck him once more. Another breath gone. He feigned offense when she mentioned that a guide would come with a price. "Price!? I never!" He blinked rapidly, pressing a hand to his chest, "I've been giving these drinks away for free, and now you're telling me that I have to pay?!" The smile returned to his face and he whirled around on his heels. Reaching high above his liquor shelf, Syr pulled down a segmented metal door. He disappeared behind the bar for another moment, the sound of closing cabinets and clicking locks suggested that he had finished tending bar for the moment. When he returned, he leaned in again. He had been captured. He had let himself be captured. With a gentle wave of his fingers across his face, his radiant eyes returned and his hair reverted to its normal length. The rounded tips of his small horns peaked through as his hair as it blew in the breeze. "For that guide that good, I'd pay just about anything." He walked around the counter and took a seat next to her, beaming. "Name your price." @Aleksei
  4. Two Realms As One

    Hey! Yeah I'd still be more than happy to get rolling with this thread!
  5. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    Nothing moved. Time itself dared not distract the fleeting moments between when Esme had picked up the glass and when it had touched her lips. Anxiety writhed beneath Syr's decorated skin. In all of his years of killing and serving drinks, Syr had only been this nervous once before. There were no magitech-augmented lions or lava falls this time, but the thought brought little comfort. It was times like this when the Hooded Figure loathed being without his hood. Then she smiled. Syr couldn't recall anything so luminous in all of Valucre or beyond. She laughed and the world quieted to listen. Delicate and free, the sound gamboled around his spirit, refusing to be lost in the cacophony of the festival. Words escaped him. His greatest tools, his most formidable weapons, nowhere to be found. In their place was feeling. Warmth radiated toward him, within him, surrounding him. He suddenly felt at once both tremendous and tremendously little by comparison. This small, fragile, sublime woman had toppled him where no other creature could. Esme began clapping for him suddenly, but it was not jarring as clapping tended to be. Everything she did seemed so gentle, so comforting, he wondered how the two could ever exist in the same world. His most honest answer was that they couldn't. One hand shot up to his forehead impulsively, middle finger pressing firmly between his nervously furrowed brow. In an instant the fulgor left his eyes, leaving dim forest hues to greet the world. Additionally, his hair seemed to lengthen ever so slightly, as to more completely cover his small, light brown horns. Syr smiled gingerly as he watched her collect her things. It only widened when she introduced herself, and expressed her desire to stay at the bar for the time being. The thought, immaculate though it might have been, was fleeting. Commotion elsewhere had drawn a fair crowd away from the immediate area. Based on the climate of the partygoers, it was either something spectacular or something morbid. Either way, Syr was getting more than enough of the spectacular before him that he couldn't be bothered with the morbid. Even so, he had forgotten his charge there for a breath too long, and a customers had begun vigorously waving his empty glass in the air. Syr took the few steps toward the man and seized the glass, placing it beneith the counter. Grabbing several bottles from the shelves behind him, Syr began his flourish again. This time, he knew she was watching. Esme continued to hold Syr's undivided attention, even if she couldn't tell. So much so that he almost spilled a little when she compared him to a wizard. Without taking his eyes off her he plunked the drink onto the counter and slid it to its customer. "Oh, I'm no more a wizard than you are a fish" he chuckled lightly. Leaning in closer he lowered his voice, "I do have a few tricks, but it'll take more than that to get them out of me." Once again his smile returned, this time with a newfound recognition of the woman before him. He was sure about her now. Her manner, her cadence, her posture. Everything about this marvelous woman pointed to honesty. Given the world Syr lived in, it became increasingly more apparent why he was so drawn to her. Few people in his line of work were honest. Of those few, even fewer survived long. In her world, he imagined it was much the same. And as she inquired about his freedom to roam beyond the bar, he desperately ached to be a part of her world, like one aches for air beneath the sea. Sighing gently, he took care to move all of her items behind the bar and secure them in a locked cabinet. "I can fo wherever I please here" he mused when he was once again standing. "But in my experience the bar is the best place to meet people." Slowing a bit at the end of his words, he realized that even a light protest may encourage her to find company elsewhere. "Though, it seems as though I have already met enough someones." His smile became less and less mischievous with each word. Soon, all that was left was earnest. "I suppose I would be willing to leave the bar if I had a trustworthy guide to help me navigate the ocean of aristocrats and nobility," he chimed. "Unfotrunarely, guides seem to be in short supply, and I have no bearing of my own in such circumstances." @Aleksei
  6. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    @Aleksei Curious thing, a spirit. Often elusive and uneasy in the presence of those it deems greater or more predatory. More often domineering and confident in the presence of those weaker. Rarest and most beautifully of all: tender in the presence of those kindred. Syr's spirit was energetic at best, tumultuous at worst. At times both uneasy and domineering; at times neither. Now he felt a new flux in his soul. An unfamiliar - but not altogether unpleasant -lilt taking his spirit. "Excuse me, sir" The sound tore him from his performance, though it wouldn't seem so to onlookers. He was used to people shouting their orders, but no voice quite struck him like hers. There was a kindess not commonly found, nor commonly advised. Syr quickly ended his flourish and served what drinks he had in progress. "Could I bother you for just a cup of water?" Curiousity only continued to grow as Syr processed the strange request. He hadn't looked to the source of the voice prior, preoccupied as he was with customers on the other end of the counter. Immediately he could see what made his soul sing; she was gorgeous. With hair green as the forest and eyes like glittering gems, he found himself quickly perplexed and enamored with the woman before him. The whole scene was too intriguing, so he decided not to comment on her commandeering a large section of the counter. Since he was here as a volunteer, Syr wasn't too worried about seating. There were no paying customers to lose anyway. Esme was quite a bit smaller than himself, and much paler by comparison, flushed as she might be from dancing. During his occasional glances into the crowd, he could have sworn he caught the briefest glimpse of her. She looked different somehow, sitting in front of him. Here, now, she seemed more - tangible. Dispelling the thought, he considered her and her order more carefully. Her cadence had been cautious, and her order universal. It didn't take the until-very-recently-Hooded Figure too long to figure out that she had no idea what to order. It was his fault for not including a menu, but this whole endeavor was so last minute that he barely remembered to pack his suit. Syr darted around behind the bar for a few brief moments, pouring liquids of various colors and consistencies into a cup and shaking. He reached below the counter and produced a piece of ovate stemware, like a slightly more robust wine glass. Luminous orange liquid filled the glass three quarters of the way up, and was garnished with a slice of what could only be described as a very unhappy cross between a melon and a peach. "Here" he prompted, sliding the drink closer to his guest. "It's a specialty of mine, I call it 'The Pheonix', it should put some pep back in your step." He smiled as only he could, at once both mischievous and earnest. "And its Syr, like cooking steak, but I get that a lot." He pointed to a bare spot on his lapel where his nametag should have been. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly as he realized that she hadn't read his name wrong and was, in fact, just being polite. "I see extravagance wears you well" he chided, clearing his throat. "Must be careful not to drown in all of this," he motioned to the various pins and baubles occupying more than his width on the counter. "I can hold these back here if you'd like, unless you'd planned on going swimming again." He smiled warmly as he eagerly awaited the look on her face when she tried the Pheonix.
  7. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    Syr exhaled deeply, taking advantage of a brief moment of silence. He brushed a hand through his near black hair, feeling his horns for the first time in a long time. Renovatio had a rather profound effect on the Hooded Figure. Namely, it was somewhere he could go without his hood. Unencumbered by fear and violence, Syr seemed quite a bit younger than usual. The morbidly neutral demeanor about him gave way to one more jovial and warm. It wasn't long after he had finished setting up that his first customer arrived, seemingly undeterred by the horns and luminous harlequin eyes. In fact, her eyes were quite a bit like his. Shaking the thought, he smoothed out his suit and took the woman's order. Syr's performance behind the bar was something to behold. He was lost in a flurry of lithe limbs, whirling bottles and gravity defying liquid. Not long after he began, he garnered a fair gathering around his small station. He felt oddly at ease here, among these strange people. Syr had always considered himself a spectator of the world, but he wasn't quite used to seeing it all in one place. Avylon was beautiful. It was the kind of beauty that permeates the soul. Syr wondered if even the Night could see him all the way out here. Among the cacophony voices, it didn't seem to matter much. For now, he was making his customers happy. Could they be considered customers if they weren't actually paying him? Either way, his skill sets were limited, and he was glad to be exercising the more peaceful of the two. There were only a few seats at Syr's bar, and he was thankful that, for now, they were empty. He could not help but smile as he washed and dried glasses for the next round of customers. Some chose to stay and talk, others chose to take their drinks and go. Either way, they were all intriguing.
  8. Ok! Awesome! I'll probably do it anyway, I just felt weird because the most accurate depiction I could find is already a character in an established work.
  9. I'll post real soon! Is it required that we include a picture of our characters?
  10. Two Realms As One

    As always, I'll be bringing good buddy Syr to the party. You'll find his character sheet linked in my signature. The basic tl;dr is that his is a half human half meliae, which is an almost painfully specific type of Dryad. He's a very simple man; give him gold and a target, and consider them dead. He mainly specializes in espionage, assassination, and the appletini. Syr has been all over the world and seen all manner of strange happenings, but is always willing to discover new ones. His reason for being in Lumin would be quite simple: coin. Despite his nearly insufferable lust for material wealth, Syr is quite a bit more capable and grounded than he would seem at first glance.
  11. Two Realms As One

    Hey! I'd love to hop into this, I've been gone a while and I think this setting could be good to get back into things.
  12. Hey hey, Syr would love to swing by and tend bar for as long as people are willing to drink!
  13. Interest Check: A March of the Damned

    Alright, take your time. I don't mean to rush.
  14. Altissium Bay: Bones

    Hey! I'd like to join if there's still room!
  15. Interest Check: A March of the Damned

    Hey! Is this still rolling?