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| Human Divinity; Creating life has become normal | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 8 2009, 06:38 AM (2,021 Views) | |
| Dark Jack | Apr 12 2009, 01:18 AM Post #11 |
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The Phantom Poster
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While the apprentices read the notes, Zeth turned around to the table with the Shaping equipment again and picked up an item, a piece of bone of some sort, made pointy in the one end and with runes ingraved all the way down its form, and with a little, yellow gemstone merged with the other end, glowing dimly with the magic energy the wand had been infused with. A discipline wand. Zeth would need it, if these apprentices were like all other Shaper apprentices he had had over the last couple of years as an instructor. Turning around again, Zeth watched the apprentices curiously. The one who had been late, and who had introduced herself as Wintou, who was sending him a look that spoke of quite some gratefulness for not having punished her, which really just made Zeth regret that he had not done so. He had punished her before it had been her first day, and because she might not have realized what punishments the Shapers had for each other, but considering that she would feel such relief clearly stated that she had been well aware that she had risked being whipped. What could she have been doing that was so important that it was worth the risk of being whipped? She was far from a full Shaper yet, and she probably had not even tried Shaping yet, so what could possibly be worth that risk, when it could not have been the usual excuse Shapers offered each other of having been in the middle of some important experiment? As Zeth turned his attention to the other apprentices, his gaze fell on one of them that seemed overly nervous. He was not surprised - most of the people who were born with the gift of being able to wield Essence were born from families of commoners, and everyone that were not Shapers - commoner, mage and Creation alike - feared the Shapers, and were awed by their power, and even often exaggerated it to the point of the ridiculous. Like the thing of Shapers being able to destroy anything with the wave of a hand. Of course, a Shaper could absorb the Essence a Creation was made of, but only if they were able to entirely dominate the will of that Creation. If a Creation went rogue, no Shaper could absorb it. A Shaper would be as helpless as a commoner or mage, except for the Shaper's powers, of corse. And besides... the entire aspect of Shaper training was quite intimidating. Many apprentices had nervous breakdowns before they became full Shapers, ending up accidentially Shaping something rogue that then killed them or caused them permanent damage. The girl was right to be nervous. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, after all, as did all Shapers. Letting his gaze sweep farther, Zeth stopped and stared at a man he had been certain had not been there a moment ago. At first, he mistook the man for an agent, since he did not wear the traditional robes of a true Shaper and neither seemed strong enough to be a Guardian, but when Zeth sensed the Essence in him, it left no doubt. Zeth had received a letter from the Shaper Council itself to keep an eye on this man, this... Bayle, he thought his name was. He had been an apprentice for a while, they told him, and it seemed that he wielded unusually large amounts of Essence in his body, but he lacked the ability to control them. Before even becoming a full Shaper, this Bayle had Shaped a superhuman being, something that was difficult even for most full Shapers. But the Creation had gone rogue, too intelligent to remain under control, yet somehow Bayle had managed to destroy it. That man had nearly unlimited potential, he could become one of the most powerful Shapers that were, perhaps even the head of the Shaper Council... if he had not been such an outsider. Just the way he dressed said it all - no respect for Shaper traditions, no solidarity with his kinsmen. It took more than just being able to Shape to be a Shaper - to be a Shaper was also a state of mind, a natural authority that could bend the wills of commoners and Creations, and foremost, loyalty to the Shaper rule. Bayle was significant, but he had a long way to go. "When you are done reading," Zeth said after some minutes had passed, walking to the side of the cave-like Shaping Hall, making room in the front of the class, "I want you to pair up in groups of two, and one group at the time stepping up to the Essence pool." He pointed at the right of the two pools, at the size of a bathtub, except it was lowered into the ground. Essence filled it, swirling around with an unnatural current that seemed to be constantly shifting and changing, making the Essence seem different every moment from the last, as if it was alive. "Since not all of you have yet mastered how to draw Essence from your own bodies, I will allow you to use the Essence in the pool this time," Zeth told them, while he raised his own left hand, since he held the discipline wand in his right, and from his fingers, tiny strands of Essence started flowing, pouring out of him and into the ground next to him. Slowly, the released Essence took form, and suddely a large, hairy and very muscular Thadd stood next to him, staring stupidly at the class. At the same time, Zeth felt significantly weakened, as always. And of course he were, Shaping divided his own Essence between himself and his Creation, so although he gained a servant, he became weaker, and every Creation he Shaped weakened him further until the Creation was either absorbed by him again or killed. For now, Zeth's strength and power was insignificant, though. "I want you to try to Shape a Fyora. Those who have already tried Shaping before -" He shot a look at Bayle. "- can use their own Essence rather than draw from the pool. Once you succeed, you will destroy it and return to your seats. Any questions?" "Punch, punch!" the Thadd grunted enthuiastically, "Punch, fight, punch!" "Silence," Zeth hissed at it, and the Thadd instantly backed down and went silent, as if it had been hit, "I just need you to restrain rogues so I can destroy them, nothing else." Zeth held up the discipline wand, and the Thadd actually gulped loudly. Zeth smiled. Even newly Shaped Creations recognized dangers when they saw them. |
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| Shienvien | Apr 12 2009, 03:14 PM Post #12 |
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I want, I can, I do
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Yet another day. Anything more couldn't even be expected. All days were similar, but yet different, in a way... For most of the Creations these were all the same. They were created with the sole purpose of serving the Shapers, and of nothing more. Some were different. Some did question the power the shapers had over most of them... What did the Shapers have, to control them like that? Maybe they thought that the sole fact that they were created, created not born, was enough to give them the rights to give them orders as they wanted and even destroy them like they only wanted, and when they only thought they had to- while a born creature had as many rights as their parents, who indeed, could not take their lives and command them according to their will. Yet there were those like it was- those who resisted the direct commands given to them and tore themselves free, with their will alone. And then they were free, free from the orders and from masters... Only to be regarded as vengeful killers, monsters, and nothing more, if even that. Some of the other living beings, Shapers in particular, only viewed them as disobedient things. Yes, by the appearance of it, things, and nothing but things, things one could throw away as soon as they were not useful anymore. Despite of that, they were alive. They were all alive and most of them were- even in case their intelligence didn't match up with humans- capable of feeling cold and warmth, wind and rain, touch and pain... They had the same senses as their creators, and reacted similarly to what they felt and saw- deep inside their minds, even when their master's orders were the opposite, never given a chance to do as they would have wanted to. And still they were thought as nothing more than completely mindless servants... Even when many of them could even think logically, and see that there was more than just tolerating whatever befell them. And some stood up against their creators, like it had once done, and though they were- most likely- destined to live in constant wariness and fear that once they would not only be found again, but once there might come a time when their strength and skills no longer match the ones who wanted them dead- and that would be their certain end. Freedom had its own costs. Doubtlessly there were those who thought the same as it did, even amongst humans and maybe even the Shapers themselves, but commoners had only little more rights to speak than they did, and the Shapers had their... Laws. The green, scaled creature bowed its head a little lower as it tried to remember what it actually knew about the ways of the Shapers... It was not too much, it had to admit. It only knew they had to follow a strict code of themselves, and every and each of those who was carried away from the rest was severely punished, or even killed- and that was about that. One must not Shape something which could have its own free will... It had, and there were only very few exactly like it was, given that their intelligence was enough for them to doubt- and then to break free. There were very few like it was, because they took the risk as too high... There could be no other explanation to that, at least none it could come up with, knowing so little and having only its own logic to support it. It had noticed that the ones with an ability to think logically were a rare sight, compared to those who were no more than beings based on instincts- and commands given to them, in the way things were at given time. Will the Shapers ever see that what they were doing was not fair to those whose existence they had resulted in? Maybe they will never realize, even if they do once pay a thought to it, but maybe it will come sooner than anyone would expect, it itself and the Shapers included. There were whispers, no more than whispers running through the land, here and there, and really nowhere at the same time. Yet those existed, and maybe, at some time in the future, they- 'Creations' will be leveled as high as any born creature, and they will be given a chance to actually choose- choose to be free, to serve from free will and whoever they want, in case they don't decide to be independent entirely, living by themselves only and up to their true abilities. Decisions were what they now lacked, and those of them who were capable of making them by their own were ruthlessly hunted down, showing no mercy. If only whispers and stray thoughts could have some power- one was clear, those can't be alone. Single ant can do nothing, while hundreds of thousands together can- the same was with nearly everything else. No-one could predict the future, in a way that would be unbendable. If it ever wanted to do something it needed someone on its side, allies amongst other Creations and people- humans- alike... It has to do something to achieve what it wanted, be it revenge or complete understanding from the other side. It has to do something, and the sooner the better- the one sitting in the hole and waiting for others to act will not prevail, but will disappear into nothingness. Thoughts may be good, but those were just that what they were- ideas and emotions together, without any outcome besides what was in one's head. The Dryak got up on all fours and moved away from the place it had been sleeping in. The relatively lizard-like Creation was not very large, but for the relatively long tail and long neck it would have been perhaps the size of a large dog, or a wolf. The only things which made it to resemble a dragon rather than simply a lizard, too large to actually be one, were wings on its back, far too small to truly fly with, but still of mentionable size. They were built almost like they were really serving a purpose other than being decorative, as those were fully formed wings rather than something rudimentary looking... Most likely those could even carry it in air if those were four-five times as large and equipped with muscles powerful enough. Also, it could breathe fire when it wanted, another thing definitely uncommon amongst lizards. Not only that, but it was also more powerful than the fire the red-scaled Fyoras could breathe out, which made it quite a weapon. Aside form that... It was not left without the use of magic, even when shaping as a power separate from magic was not of its abilities- magic has to be enough for it, whatever it might encounter. Hopefully it would never become to just the question of claws and teeth- not only was biting mostly the line of lower lifeforms but it was also less efficient than the rest, even when its claws- at least on hind legs- were relatively large and sharp. On the front pair of limbs (speaking of legs, not wings, naturally) the claws were mentionably shorter and the 'fingers', if those could be called so, were longer and suitable for grabbing and holding things, one of those even opposing the others, making it the equivalent of human thumbs. It was true that it was mostly quadrupedal, though, so its front legs were primarily for walking, even when those made it capable of things plain legs wouldn't allow. That was doubtlessly the most of its appearance and capabilities, if not to mention one last thing- It was the look in the being's golden-brown eyes that spoke the best that it wasn't simply another of those dull-minded Creations imprisoned by the Shaper's will, but a fairly intelligent one, with something in its eyes that equaled at least that of a human's, if not more. Far too intelligent to not to doubt. Far too strong-willed to accept the fate which was inevitable for most of the lesser creations. It might be a 'rogue', but it is that with the full right to be one, being a creature who was no less than humans or any of the others truly were, despite of the fact that it differed by the way it first came to be. With determination clearly showing in its shining, intelligent eyes it walked towards the new day, which only itself can make different from the rest... With its own deeds. Edited by Shienvien, Apr 14 2009, 08:54 AM.
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A thought can create a world, but only a word written down can ensure its existence. -When I am physically capable of doing something it doesn't mean I can do it. When I can, it doesn't mean that I should. When I should, it doesn't mean that I must. When I must, it doesn't mean that I will. -I might not always know where I currently am, but I am never lost. I know in which direction my destination lies. -There is no faith in knowing. I prefer to know, as only in this way can I be certain in my decisions. -The more people you ask a question the higher the chance that at least one of them is right. -Make me walk on walls, don't force me to dance according to others' will. -I agree that life can be depressing at times. I just choose to ignore it. -I don't figure over possibilities. I want, I can, I do. | |
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| Teslyn | Apr 12 2009, 09:28 PM Post #13 |
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a fleeting presence
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ooc| /fails at trying to describe Shaping/ | When Meliil finished reading, she turned to the boy who she'd been talking to earlier; she didn't even have to ask- with a grin on his lips, he beat her to it, offering to partner with her. He'd done this before and clearly she hadn't, so he figured it would probably be helpful if they were partners. With an expression cheerful enough to match his, Meliil got to her feet and followed him to one of the Essence pools, feeling slightly relieved. She (at the moment) was not the kind of person who wanted to wander around the room in an attempt to find a partner. Intimidated by everything around her, branching out and speaking to others who didn't speak to her first was a near-inconceivable concept- for now. (She never knew when the mental and emotional changes wrought by her attempts at altering and concealing her nature came about- usually, they were transient, fleeting altercations to her persona, making her appear ill-tempered and mercurial.The situation she was in at the moment, though, heavily influenced her state of mind.) Following her the boy, she quickly recognized the unsettling feeling in her stomach as a mix of trepidation and excitement. When she reached the pool, she tentatively, she stretched a hand out- she did not touch the Essence, but she sort of - willed it to move. Willed it to rise from the pool, and, trying to keep the image of a Fyora in her mind, she struggled to force it to take the Shape of one. It was working, sort of. Surprised awe - had she always been able to do this? - welled up in her and a gasp escaped her as the Essence actually began to resemble a Fyora. The gasp was a mistake; the ensuing exhalation caught in her throat again, and the fit of coughing she thought she'd avoided let loose. The subsequent mini-convulsions wracked her small frame until, and her hand shook, concentration breaking until- She swallowed, forcing down the coughs and steadying her hand, a hard look of determination set on that wan face. It was much different then the soft, interested look she had worn before -and indeed, she seemed different. Meliil felt different; she stood straighter, her shoulders squared and a mantle of calm confidence settled about her - but there was something almost... volatile about her. Carefully, she continued forming the Fyora. The coughing, she told herself angrily, could fucking wait until she was finished. ooc| o.o" i dunno. i guess meliil is her own special brand of bipolar.| Edited by Teslyn, Apr 12 2009, 10:21 PM.
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| Oracle | Apr 13 2009, 12:11 PM Post #14 |
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Head of Diplomatic Affairs
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Zeth had Wintou's full attention as he spoke. She was not a fool by any means, and had no intention of messing up her first experiment. The essentials were explained and she was ready to give it a try. While the nervous girl made her way to the pool, Wintou scanned the room for a likely partner, her eyes latching on to the oddly dressed man. A quirk twinged the corner of her mouth, he looked every bit as anti-social on the outside as she did on the inside. That he chose to wear regular traveling clothes was an oddity in itself. Nor did he wear the normal robes of a Shaper. The deep green color of his obviously expensive cape was almost a match for her eyes. He was only a few inches taller than herself, but appeared sturdier than the average shaper. While her eyes poured forth compassion straight from her soul, his seemed harsh, stern, hard. She wondered if it were just the vagaries of nature or if they truly reflected his soul. There was only one way to find out. Wintou stood and headed directly to him. Her walk was as graceful and stately as always, her voice without hint of the nervousness one had while meeting someone new. She tilted her head slightly and extended her slender hand, "I am Wintou. Would you be kind enough to partner with me for the experiment?" |
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I Role Play because the people in my head tell me to. TUESDAY AFTERNOON It is God who can transform the lowest into the highest, who humbles the proud, and causes that which is in darkness to become light.~Horace ![]() | |
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| Silvermourn | Apr 13 2009, 08:36 PM Post #15 |
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The Redneck, the Cynic, the Nerd, and the Hopeless Romantic
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As he was approached by another and asked to join her group he flashed her a quick smile and a nod. Apprehension was already starting to set in from the idea of shaping once again, and turning his cold eyes to his partner he decided that she would be a suitable partner, and hopefully a continuing one as she looked to be the most capable of this group. As they received the instruction on what they were to shape and with what they were to do it Bayle noticed the look flashed his way. It seemed that he already had messages flying ahead of him, messages that evidently marked him as dangerous and untrustworthy. Delving deep into his soul he felt the core of his being, that which created him and gave him his existence. The strange substance glistened like a dark viscous ocean, and as he began to lead it through him he began the familiar fight with sanity. Grasping and wielding his essence was like a fight with the power, a fight that once won gave him the power to create, his power, his only power. His mind locked in a vicious battle with power and his own soul, Bayle nearly let the power overcome him as accusing eyes flashed across his vision. In a sudden torrent of painful memory bright eyes brimming with emotion confronted him once again. In that moment of weakness and emotional pain he nearly lost the battle with himself, he was almost rendered unconscious and helpless as he had often been in his early days as an apprentice. As he saw his partner nearby, the one who had been willing to work with him, he realized that if he failed it would reflect badly on her as well. Simply being looked down on, the idea of the thing, caused Bayle's cold eyes to glaze over with frost. He was not a hate filled man, but to be a Shaper sometimes a cold and reasoning mind was necessary. Suddenly the battle was won, and his dancing fingers began to spin from them ropes of essence. Flitting between the fingers of his right hand the streams of life and power began to flow together, weaving together to form that which would become a Fyora. He knew the anatomy of the creature well, he knew what it was to be and how it was to be. He knew how the creators had come to creating the red-skinned creature. Yet he didn't understand why it should be red, perhaps his was not to be red, and with the thought it was not. Instead the ropes wove together to form a flesh the dark green of his cloak. As he wielded his essence with careful work of mind and hands Bayle began to see the creature form. With the fight over and his essence controlled as long as he held his grip on it his was the pleasure of wielding it. Yet as soon as he relinquished it he would be forced to fight should he decide to use it again. With the sudden measures of a finishing touch his other hand dropped low to his side and spun out wisps of himself to wrap the creature in it's cocoon of creation, allowing it's final moments of purity to exist within a ball of itself. As the sphere of essence faded into the shape of a Fyora it's strangely colored scales became evident. Suddenly realizing that he had gone so far as to change what he had been creating without permission Bayle nearly reached for his whip in the fear that it was already to be used on him. It had been that which had led him to create his ultimate failure. That which had led him to create the emotion and the passion he had seen before. Suddenly he was staring into those eyes again and almost he destroyed the creature out of fear and anger. The thought of that emotion hurt him, the thought of it fading from existence beneath the fury of his unwinding pained him still. It had been those eyes that remained last, and they would live forever in his mind. Eyes filled with hurt, with love, with raw emotion and suddenly raging passion, eyes that accused their creator of the ultimate sin. Almost the creature before him ceased to exist, almost he destroyed that which sat in perfection before him because he feared what it could become. Then suddenly he saw it, quailing before his cold and distant glare, whimpering at the sheer intensity of his sudden emotion. This creature was his and completely his, it would do as he said and until his instructor inspected it he would allow the thing to exist. Never had it hurt him to unshape a thing before, those things without emotion did not relish their lives and did not mourn their passing. Only one unshaping had pained him, one sudden fearful destruction. Those eyes would never leave his mind, but as he tried to shake them away he turned to watch his partner. It hadn't been a discussion before he started his shaping, and if she was knew at this it was best perhaps that a more experienced Shaper stood as her partner in case her creation went rogue and she was forced to unshape it. Sometimes it was best to have help in such situations. |
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"I mourn that which may have been but will never be." "Stupidity is a wound that bleeds forever; Intelligence is a blade that stays forever sharp" "An armed man will kill and unarmed man with monotonous regularity" "Nothing adds a little class to a sniper course like a babe in a Ghillie suit." "You have the rest of your life to solve your problems. How long you live depends on how well you do it." "Make your attacker advance through a wall of bullets. I may get killed with my own gun, but he's gonna have to beat me to death with it, 'cause it's going to be empty." | |
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| Dark Jack | Apr 13 2009, 11:33 PM Post #16 |
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The Phantom Poster
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Watching with patient curiosity as the apprentices started grouping together and each group starting to work on Shaping their own Fyoras, Zeth left his whimpering Thadd where it stood, for him to call on later if necessary, and started to walk around the groups to watch their work. Most of the groups seemed to have grasped the idea, and a lot of healthy Fyoras were made, but there were also some - mostly first-time Shapers - who seemed to have difficulty letting their Essence find the correct form, leaving their Creation crying out in pain, horribly misshapen. One Fyora even had its organs on the outside, and Zeth had to instruct the apprentice - who had been too busy laughing and bragging to his fellow apprentices of how he had failed in what he seemed to think was a humerous way - to absorb the Creation immediately. Zeth followed the Shapers' Laws, and he had never considered Creations more than just servants - the Shapers created them, so they surely owed their very existence to the Shapers, and servitude was the least they could do to return the favor - but he found torturing Creations just for the fun of it very unnecessary. It sickened him. He continued his rounds, noticing that the nervous girl from before had begun Shaping at the Essence pool now, and the raw Essence was rising to her will as it should, slowly forming a Fyora. Good, that girl had potential after all. Shaping was an art that required patience to obtain perfection. Being too hasty when Shaping was what resulted in terrible mutations on the Creations, explosions, and some times even the Creation going rogue. A slow making was the right way, even if the girl seemed to be having trouble concentrating because of coughing. Walking over to the girl, Zeth shot a careful look at the Creation she was forming before padding her shoulder comfortingly. "Easy now," he told her, "You're doing fine. Continue like that." Turning around with a smile on his lips, that smile was almost instantly wiped off his face and replaced with a mask of horror as he saw what Bayle and Wintou had made - but Zeth figured that, according to his reputation, it was probably Bayle. In the back of his mind, Zeth had probably expected Bayle to try to do something unusual just to get some attention, since that seemed the kind of person he was, arriving here without even wearing Shaper robes and all. But Zeth had expected Bayle to perhaps Shape the Fyora just slightly differently, just making it stronger, or maybe even Shaping the blue variant of the Fyora - the Cryora, a lizard that looked like the Fyora, but was stronger, faster and breathed hails of ice instead of fire. But Zeth had never even considered the idea that he would do that! Before anyone else could do anything, Zeth had the discipline wand out, swinging it in front of himself and using his own will to release a portion of the Essence contained in the gemstone on the tip, causing it to flash bright yellow for a moment. The enchantment of the wand did that the target - the green Fyora - was made unstable, its Essence being torn apart, and from one second to the next, the Fyora was gone, reduced to a blob of Essence on the floor, steaming slightly. "What do you think you're doing?" Zeth actually shouted at Bayle, shocked as he was, "Tell me, what do you think you're doing? Do you think you can just change the color of a Creation? Do you think it is so simple? We have no way of realizing how much you could have changed in that Fyora's genes just by changing its color! For all we knew, it could be exhaling venomous gasses that would kill the entire class, or be filled with unstable Essence and be ready to blow itself up, destroying the entire Shaping Hall!" Realizing that every eye in the room was on him, Zeth calmed himself down, establishing the calm and authority that the Shapers were renown for. "Always stick to the design. Shape another one, and do it right this time. There are Essence pods on the table in case you need to replenish your energy after the first Shaping." |
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| Attila | Apr 14 2009, 02:29 AM Post #17 |
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Transylvanian Mad Scientist
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((If you're still accepting, here's my character, still under revision and outlining. Let me know if anything needs changing.)) Name: Abramis Age: 25 Occupation: Sect: Shaper Description: ![]() Abramis wears a red cloak with hood, adorned by brass studs -a testament to his inclination for fire and metal. Deep brown, piercing eyes, deeply entrenched behind closely creased dark brown eyebrows, shoulder-length swept-back brown hair and a cleverly trimmed beard with a plaid mustache tells of his meticulous, refined but also temperamental and narcissistic nature and superiority complex. Personality/Motivation: Abramis cares little for the council of Shapers and their rules. In fact, he cares little for any rules apart from his own. Quick-witted and quick tongued, he is also an accomplished strategist and tactician, as well as reasonably affiliated in the domain of lesser fire magic. His was always a drive to outsmart, outmaneuver, outwit. For years, he has been conducting experiments to circumvent the laws and restrictions of the Shapers' council, which he finds troublesome and hindering. Biography: First finding out of his talents at the age of 8, as he made little moving golems out of clay and wood, having them fight in fairly large armies; it wasn't long before the Shapers sought him out. Promising him to have him play as long as he want, he agreed to become one of the Shapers and underwent studies at a considerably younger age than most initiates. He proved exceptionally able at creating and manipulating Creations, due to his unbending personality and iron will. Mastering command of even large masses of creations, he quickly became acknowledged among the Shapers. At age 16,he was experimenting a way to lend creations autonomous control, by means of blending in an intricate array of cogwheels, sprockets and power cores, fueled by magical fire. It quickly became obvious that such a means was indeed possible, with little to no further involvement of the Shaper. The mechanical Creations took on a life of their own, following pre-defined orders to the letter until their deaths. However, such experiments did not earn the council's approval, who saw it as a rogue behavior of the prodigal youngster to trick the ancient laws of the Shapers. Shortly thereafter, Abramis' right to shape has been revoked until further notice. But all this mattered little to him. He continued to study, experimenting in secret, cataloging his finds with great detail. During this time, he also built up a talent for disassimilating creations, effectively destroying them by withdrawing the Essence contained in them. Several years have passed, across which Abramis gained a mastery of shaping, even though attempts to hinder his progress have secretly been made. Abramis knew; they did so out of fear. Fear of what he might become. And he was determined to become even more. Equipment: (Again, not necessary, but if you character by chance has the Magic Bow of Whatever or some magic amulets, here would be a good place to mention them.) Starting paragraph: |
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| Silvermourn | Apr 14 2009, 12:02 PM Post #18 |
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The Redneck, the Cynic, the Nerd, and the Hopeless Romantic
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He had seen it coming as soon as the oh so excitable teacher had started lifting that wand held so tightly in his hand. Yet as he watched his creation melt into simply a pile of essence Bayle did not take on the look of a dejected student. Instead as he raised his right hand forward and felt the rush of nausea and dizziness that came with fighting his power he was more a Shaper then ever. The great cloak wrapped around him seemed to emphasize his individuality in the room, it set him apart from the rest and his cold eyes said that he put himself above them as well. He was nothing if not a Shaper, and that the man thought he had simply crafted that creature without watching the anatomy then he was a fool. Standing straight and proud even as the waves of nausea threatened to wrench his latest meal from his belly Bayle took hold of his essence, and as it entered his grasp the anger seemed to protect him from his memories. For a moment the thought of those eyes did nothing to stop his movements and as the nausea faded he managed to take some momentary joy in the angry act of shaping. Twisting the ropes of essence from his fingers again he hoped his partner wasn't disturbed in her Shaping by the sudden destruction that had him so quickly working with his weakened essence. Using his essence didn't exhaust him so much as gave him the feeling of being reduced, as if suddenly he wasn't what he had been moments ago, and while physically he wasn't tired he also wasn't as powerful or as capable. With the careful wisps of essence winding through the air he began to craft the creature again, shaping it from the ground up in a flurry of essence. This one would be a Fyora in every measure of reality, as he recalled the original researchers notes he began to form his size around theirs. His would be an exact replica of the one that had been created so long ago, if individuality wasn't appreciated maybe it's opposite would be. As the spinning weave of essence died away and the Fyora came to stand before him he almost lost his anger to the backlashing wave of nausea and memories, and almost again he destroyed one of his creations for fear of what it could become. Yet after a moment he managed to control his own emotions again, becoming a Shaper in stance if not in dress once again. |
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"I mourn that which may have been but will never be." "Stupidity is a wound that bleeds forever; Intelligence is a blade that stays forever sharp" "An armed man will kill and unarmed man with monotonous regularity" "Nothing adds a little class to a sniper course like a babe in a Ghillie suit." "You have the rest of your life to solve your problems. How long you live depends on how well you do it." "Make your attacker advance through a wall of bullets. I may get killed with my own gun, but he's gonna have to beat me to death with it, 'cause it's going to be empty." | |
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| Oracle | Apr 14 2009, 01:17 PM Post #19 |
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Head of Diplomatic Affairs
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Wintou's eyes opened wide as she saw Bayle's creation coming into existence. It was the wrong color and looked stronger to her than a regular Fyora. Was he doing it on purpose? She wanted to warn him to stop, but was afraid of what might happen should his concentration waver. She just stood there stupefied wondering where Zeth was. Without warning, the creature came undone and pooled in front of her. Her breath, that she hadn't realised had stopped, resumed. Her heart beat rose dramatically as Zeth's almost panicked voice erupted from behind her. He voiced her very concerns out loud. This was no time to be trying new things. Not on their first lessons, not until they were shapers themselves. Though she understood the temptation, and he had apparently shaped before. Still...she hoped hers turned out properly. She did not want to cause Zeth to think about reprimanding her, or changing his decision on that whipping. Before she stepped to the pool for her first try at shaping, she ordered herself to calm. There could be no room for flustered thoughts flowing through her as a distraction. She dismissed everything from her mind except the writhing pool of essence in front of her. She had seen and destroyed the rogue Fyora less than a few hours ago. Granted it wasn't the usual destruction. She didn't know how to withdraw the essence, especially of someone else's creation. She knew how to heal, she was very good at it in fact. She could also, effortlessly, unheal. She had tried it on plants, and a few food animals. As easily as she could make something whole again, she could destroy it. Hopefully the commoners had moved the Fyora elsewhere, that it might not cause comment. Wintou had no idea what the Shapers might do if they knew of her talent. She dismissed those thoughts as well. Wintou lifted her hand over the vat for her first try at shaping. Slowly she drew it forth, her mind shaping the raw essence. Step by step, just as the notes required. She didn't proceed to the next without being certain of what she was doing. It's form was nearly complete. The red scale like skin, was perfect, as was it's shape. Limbs and structure exactly as they should be, she smiled. It was not until she looked at it's face, did she panic. Staring back at her was intelligence, questioning, curious, innocent, trusting. The creature was completely harmless, docile. A look of panic, then pain crossed her face, how could she kill it? Undo it? Why was it not as it should be, vicious but subservient? She did not want it writhing in pain as it's life, it's essence was withdrawn. In compassion, she had created it. If anyone should feel the pain of the mistake, it should be her. A lone tear traced it's way across her cheek. If it cost her a whipping, so be it. Before Zeth could unmake the passive life, she held out her hand, and in a flash unhealed it's neck, the spine snapped. Its head flopped to the side, dead as she eased it to the floor. "My apologies, Zeth. It seems there was too much of me in the creature." She stood, the pain still clearly on her face. Swallowing back the agony filling her, Wintou turned to Zeth, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary in the manner she used to dispatch the Fyora. "I don't recall that being in the notes. How do I avoid it?" |
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I Role Play because the people in my head tell me to. TUESDAY AFTERNOON It is God who can transform the lowest into the highest, who humbles the proud, and causes that which is in darkness to become light.~Horace ![]() | |
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| Dark Jack | Apr 15 2009, 02:19 AM Post #20 |
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The Phantom Poster
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Zeth watched and nodded to himself as Bayle Shaped a new Fyora, and this time it was as close to perfection as it was possible, perhaps even more similar to the first Fyoras than anything Zeth had managed to Shape himself. So, Bayle did not lack control, he mastered it above what even Zeth could, and his Shaping was utterly superb. In truth, Zeth had not seen such skill since he had studied at the Marble Hall back in the capitol, and even then, only Balthazar - the true Shaper representative in the Shaper Council - would have been able to match this display of Essence control. Bayle had power, talent and apparently a flawless memory, to make such a replica of the first Fyoras. So his problem was entirely with his rebellious nature, his cursed desire to set himself apart from the rest of the Shapers. Did he think that the Shapers could maintain order in the world as individuals? Perhaps one Shaper could rule the world, but only as long as the rest of the world feared him or her, believing that the Shapers continuously had unlimited power. Before Bayle learned to act like a Shaper, he could never become a full Shaperm despite his obvious skill. "Very good," Zeth nodded at Bayle, "That's how it is done at the Academies. Once you get out of here and become a full Shaper, then you can start experimenting. But as long as you are but an apprentice, you follow the rules of apprentices. Keep up acting like a renegade, and you might be stuck as an apprentice for the rest of your life - and that would be a waste of talent." He paused before he added: "And tomorrow, put on a proper Shaper-robe. Individuality is all well and good, but we Shapers find power in our unity. Remember that." Turning away from Bayle and his perfect Creation, Zeth just managed to get a look at Wintou's Fyora - a well-made specimen - before the young Shaper raised her hand to its neck and... well, killed it. Zeth was truly shocked, he had never seen anything quite like it. Not only did this girl, who had seemed so grateful for not being whipped, yet had little enough respect for rules to allow herself to be late, kill the Fyora, but she did it in a way that Zeth could not quite understand. But how she had done it would be a mystery for another time... right now, why she had done it mattered more. "There are things we must learn about Creations, Wintou," Zeth told her, shooting a nervous look at the dead Fyora at the floor, "No matter how much we alter them, no matter how obedient they become, they will always have a mind of their own. I trust you know Hros, the Mind in the entrance hall of the Academy? And even if you missed him, I figure you have seen Serviles before. Both Minds and Serviles are quite intelligent, but we allow them to live because they are obedient. If a Creation is obedient, intelligence makes no difference except it makes it harder for the Shaper to control it. And..." He looked at the Fyora again and winched. "Another time, would you mind doing it differently? Just killing a Creation leaves such a mess... and, if you want, you can keep your Creations. There is no law that forbid you to keep the same Creation for a longer time - actually, Balthazar. the earlier member of the Shaper Council that disappeared some years ago, had a Fyora that had been his companion through all of his life, ever since his days as an apprentice." Turning away from the sickening sight of the dead Fyora, Zeth first swept another glance across the room - everything seemed to be going well - before he turned towards the wall in the back of the room, where the single entrance to the Shaping Hall was. "Gyl!" Zeth shouted, "Gyl, we need some cleaning up here!" Next to the door, what seemed to be a pile of old, moldy cloth seemed to come alive, and soon stood up and revealed to actually be a weak and sick-looking Servile, dressed in the tattered brown robes that were customary for their kind. Moving bent a great deal forward, almost hunchbacked, like most Serviles were, Gyl first fetched a bucket and a mop to clean up the Essence that remained after Bayle's first Creation's destruction, and once that was done, he stopped and wondered what to do with the corpse of Wintou's Fyora. Zeth stepped back, letting everyone do their job. Once everyone mastered Shaping a basic Fyora, he would call it a day. |
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6:10 PM Jul 10