Mini Event we're only human, after all
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Hand of the Queen / Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 12 - Strg: 34 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 34
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#1
Amalia

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
Three days after Zariah's ill-fated 'forum', they reconvene.

Amalia may have been silent at the meeting, but she shall not be so now - not when so much is at stake, their futures riding on the decisions made today. As much as she may loathe the idea, she has somehow become a mediator of sorts, a step between nothing and everything, an evening star to guide them to the dawn.

She waits until all - or most - of those she expects have assembled, turning black eyes on each new face. When the room is quiet - when the moment seems right - Amalia rises from her chair, her slender figure oddly commanding, a little wearier than last time, a little wiser, a little stern.

"Thank you for coming again. After Zariah's, ah, forum, it's obvious she isn't particularly interested in negotiating, or even really talking." An eyebrow rises wryly, but the girl goes on. "There's some new faces here. Last time we discussed the plan for the future and things became... heated. So today I hope we can be a little more, um, orderly.

"With that in mind, I'd like to start by inviting any who are willing to put themselves forward as leaders to speak. Bear in mind that whoever we decide on will not be alone - I think we should have many voices, not just once, but even a council needs a head. So if anyone is willing to be that, um, head... please explain why, now. Then we'll vote."


Amalia herself is not a leader, never has been and never will be. But she is a shield: protecting, defending, allowing others to maneuver and thrive while bearing the brunt of the world's blows. It is this role she fulfills today, gazing out about the assembled, faces old and young, familiar and not, all squeezed into her little basement, all watching the quiet young Chandrakant speak.



Welcome, rebels! Here's how this is gonna go:

Round 1) Anyone who would like to be considered for the council/whatever, please stand up and say who you are and roughly why you wanna be a leader. This will last 24-ish hours (ask if you need longer).

Round 2) We vote! This will probably take place half IC half OOC. Basically, post a super short reply saying your character voted and PM me (on Amalia's account) who you're voting for. If your character DOES have any concerns or things to say they are welcome to do so ofc. This will also be about 24 hours.

Round 3) Amalia will announce who has the most votes. That person will become head of the council, and then they'll post next to accept and steer the ship from here.
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
Ronin Taliesin
the Dark Star
Monster Hunter

Age: 27 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 26 - Luck: 30
SUGAR - Mythical - Dragon (ice breath)
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#2
RONIN
if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving
Ronin would not be here if not for the people around him. Amalia, Deimos, Remi (especially Remi) - it had taken a lot to bring the hunter back to the basement of the bakery. But now that he had walked out because people who didn't know him all that well had implied that his daughter would be threatened and that he would fold, and she had been threatened anyway, well... there was little left to stop him.

He sat comfortably in his chair, even if he couldn't say the same about his state of mind, and as Amalia said her piece he groaned internally. She wanted him to stand up and say it, huh? Ronin grit his teeth and - reluctant but understanding that it was necessary - rose to his feet.

"I'll spare you my introduction - there isn't a way for it not to sound pompous," he said. "I have been reminded, time and time again, that I am not the same as I was when I battled the Spire Demon. That I am more now, and with that comes the type of responsibility that I'm no longer able to shy from." Ronin scowled, shaking his head.

"I'll spare you, as well, the type of rousing speech that makes blood boil and rebels run happily to their deaths. Zariah is strong - stronger than I am currently, that is for certain. And there will be consequences for everything we are doing here tonight, for better or for worse. But the woman who calls herself Queen of the Hollowed Grounds, who calls herself the Merciless and claims to want to better this place - she does not deserve to rule."
Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#3
i'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Remi stood silent behind his soon-to-be-husband, his fingers anxiously playing with a feather that he'd either conjured or grew and then plucked. Too-pale eyes were fixed firmly on Ronin, keeping the man directly in his field of vision to help steady his own rapidly-pounding heart. He knew this was a momentous occasion, something they'd look back on and remember vividly. In the moment though, all Remi could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief and love for the reluctant might-be king. The lack of strength almost made Remi smile inappropriately (he knew better than any assembled just how far physically Ronin had come). But more than that, Ronin would always have Remi's strength and everything else he had to give. For this cause or any other, the hunter would always have the alchemist at his side.

Still feeling fluttery, feathers appeared in Remi's curls; hearts worn on sleeves had nothing on feathers in hair, it seemed. Taking a breath at the end of what Ronin had to say, the alchemist sent a pulse of appreciation (coloured vividly with a rampant nervous energy) towards Amalia, as Remi continued to spin the feather between dexterous fingers.
maybe it's all we got but it's all i need

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
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#4
KIADA
i dream of gods and monsters
The Harpy brings her Luxere this time as she makes her way down into the bakery basement. Auni’s hooves click against the floor, and she makes way for him to enter and greet everyone. She hopes perhaps his presence will keep things mostly orderly, to keep things calm and better than what they were before. As she enters, she spots that Ronin and Remi have already arrived, and she settles in somewhere nearby them – Auni settling in at her feet with wide bright eyes looking to the two of them with what can only be seen as a lopsided Luxere grin.

But now is not the time for fun, listening as Amalia lists out what they’re here for. She nod quietly, a small blip to herself in agreement, before listening as Ronin speaks. Her icy gaze drifts toward the revived man, listening and chewing on her lip as anger begins to blossom in her chest at the memory of the forum and what it had caused – what she had seen, what she had thought.

Ah, but Kiada doesn’t think of herself as a leader. Perhaps once upon a time she had been striving for it, aiming for the power that comes with it. But that child within her was naïve and dark and destructive – now, Kiada knows better. She doesn’t want the responsibility, the name, the notoriety. And so, like Remi, Kiada too remains silent.
and of the man who knew i was both
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#5
We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

They came together again: back into the struggle, back into the nuances, the restless entropy galvanizing, harpooning them to these shifts and alterations. There was a cumbersome, overwhelming feeling clustered and coiled over his spine, down his shoulders, at the distinction between waiting and rebellion: how they would get there, what they would need to accomplish, pushing him further and further, back into the denizens of sedition and anarchy. The open forum had been a disastrous thing, but effective in its own way, because now they were all fully aware of where they stood, of where they needed to be, meeting down in the basement, furtive and secret until duplicity and liberation could encase, could embody, the whole – mutiny in their claws, in their spirits, in their irreverence. They knew she was incapable of listening. They knew she was incapable of comprehending their concerns. They knew she was a politician and a tyrant through and through, and despite some of the good she might’ve been committing into the terrain, the maddening outliers stacked against her. Rexanna’s case was a bloody, minatory force in his skull too, a weighted echo puncturing the back of his skull.

He slid in on the evening air, Zuriel nodding and waiting outside, a warning beacon (and a weapon; sword at brow) in case they had other lurking forces along the walls and eaves. Then the beast listened, to Amalia’s discourse, to the choices they’d have to make, who was going to be the helm, the throne, when they tossed the Merciless off. He nodded and found himself a chair, watching, waiting, for the proceedings to begin: his time as a king had already come and gone, thank you very much, and he had no intentions of repeating the debacle. There were others here far more skilled, far more proficient, far more capable; and he allowed a hint of a smile as Ronin took to the floor, announcing his predilections, his candidacy. His mind reeled at the last sentence, at the way they’d all finally managed to agree on something: she does not deserve to rule.

DEIMOS
Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
Bastien De Rosieres
Guildmaster / Artist

Age: 34 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 7
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
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#6


When Bastien learnt of a secret underground resistance, he was thrilled. How rebellious, how romantic! Like something he would read in a book and fantasize about being a part of. The kind of thing he had whispered about with his students in his old life, grand thoughts of deposing kings and setting Venice alight; but that was all they had been, thoughts. This was real and tantalising, and he jumped at the chance to be a part of it.

For a second as Amalia spoke, he considered putting himself forward as a leader. He was good at speaking, would die willingly for any cause he believed in...but when Ronin stood up, he knew immediately he had been beaten before he began. The other man was a soldier, strong and sure, well-liked. He could go out in the day and did not have the complicated ties to the throne Bastien now did, with Rexanna's new position regrettably positioning him between the two sides.

Still, he hoped he might have an important role here. For the moment he sat back and watched, nodded as Ronin spoke.
Bastien
I'm every cliche, but I simply do it best
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Hand of the Queen / Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 12 - Strg: 34 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 34
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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#7
Amalia

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
They are quiet, hesitant, just like her, so few speaking, so few willing to take on the role. And can she blame them? She herself has shied away, hesitated and avoided any sort of responsibility. Leadership is not one of Amalia's qualities, or so she tells herself again and again. The very thought of it sends anxiety riveting up her veins, her palms sweaty and her mouth dry.

She can't do it. But someone must.

And someone does. A smile crosses her face as the starboy stands, taking the burden he was reborn into. She is proud of him, impressed and relieved; the content does not matter as much as the fact that someone else is speaking. She listens to Ronin, listens and waits for someone - anyone - else to reply, to throw their hat into the ring. But Wessex isn't here (where is she?) and everyone else is silent, silent as the grave. So when Ronin stops Amalia stands, her hands on the table, her shoulders pulled up. "Wessex isn't here, but... I know she would be, if she could. Something must have kept her. She's a natural, and an... an Ascended, and she cares about this place, and us."

Swallowing, the girl sighs. "So I guess... I guess it's between Wessex and Ronin. Please write an R or a W on a slip of paper and put it in the bowl, and then I'll count." There is paper on the table, and charcoal, and a bowl. Taking a paper herself Amalia sits back down, sketching out a single letter and slipping it in the bow.



You must post your character for your vote to count. You can either include in your post who you vote for or DM me on Discord for an anonymous vote.
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd / Outlander Advisor
Portal Guardian
Age: 29 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 11 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 39 - Luck: 40
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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#8
Not so long ago, the bard might have stood forth, reluctant but bowing to necessity to take on the mantle of leadership once more, at least temporarily. But that was before his confidence in himself had been sorely tested. It had left him weary, hurting, and second-guessing himself in spite of all his friends had done to shine lights into the renewed shadows of his heart. Now the disguised loreseeker, with his darkened skin and hair, age lines and drab clothing, eyepatch and battered hat simply sat quietly near Deimos and Kiada, and took paper and pencil in hand to make his mark. He folded the paper with a single neat crease and dropped it in the bowl, smiling wanly at Amalia as he returned to his seat.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#9
We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

Voting for a leader: something they hadn’t had a choice in before now, before the scalding reaches of the Merciless hissed against their figures. Had any of them ventured into the dominion prior, they might not have had the same dilemma: a monarch of their own making, well-received, wanted, rather than forced upon them. In the end though, it didn’t really matter: they were constructing it now, piece by piece, brick by brick, resistance and revolution courting their fingers as they grasped upon paper and pen.

He rose after Amalia, after Jigano, following their footsteps, standing in front of the table, reaching for the writing materials, considering, musing, calculating in his mind. Which candidate – as Wessex was also for consideration – would be the most suitable for what they had in mind? Which one would make a difference? Which one would enable their voices heard, instead of shouted down and insulted? A moment later, and he’d printed his chosen letter on the paper, folded it, and dropped it into the bowl, leaving the instruments for the next individual as he returned to his seat.

DEIMOS
Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
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#10
KIADA
i dream of gods and monsters
There is much to think about as Amalia speaks of Wessex too. And for a time, Kiada spends watching as others stand to cast their vote, she mills over the options. And after, she decides that she knows just who might be able to make this place livable and comfortable rather than embracing the destruction and terrors that they faced now. Her eyes drift from person to person before she stands and approaches the paper.

It doesn’t take much thought of her own, now that she’s had some time to decide, and she marks the paper with her vote — dropping it easily into the bowl and stepping aside for the next person. Her attention shifts toward the rest of those gathered as she finds her seat again, stepping over Auni to sit while the Luxere stares at everyone around them.
and of the man who knew i was both
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 31
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#11
i'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Remi knew nothing of voting, of politics, nor of the tentative principles of democracy being evoked here. What he did know though, was that he did not like secrets.

Watching as the others reached for the parchment, making their mark and placing it into the bowl as per Amalia's instructions, the alchemist simply stood behind Ronin frowning slightly. Biting the inside of his lip, torn between what he thought was right and what Amalia had told him to do, Remi reclined into the advice Ronin had given him only a few days prior. That he didn't always need to follow the instruction of others. That he could be his own council. Though the alchemist wasn't entirely sure what that entailed at all times, he felt this a safe enough space to give it a try.

"I..do not see why this vote should be secret." He said in a low and humble voice, too-pale stare flashing upon the profile of Ronin's face for a moment before falling onto the group. "If someone wants Ronin over Wessex, or she over him, that does not seem like information that needs to be kept from the group." So saying, Remi nodded apologetically towards Amalia, pulsing a reinforcement of his expression towards her.

"I would like Ronin."

Then, because the man who'd placed the slip of paper into the bowl only moments before was not someone the alchemist recognized, he raised a brow towards Amalia. Who..? He thought to her softly, head inclined to the left.
maybe it's all we got but it's all i need

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Bastien De Rosieres
Guildmaster / Artist

Age: 34 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 7
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
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#12


Ronin or Wessex? For Bastien it was an easy question (because he had a crush on Ronin). He hardly knew the other Ascended woman and found her harsh and hard to like from what he did know. Personally, he agreed with Remi that the anonymous vote was unnecessary, but he followed along with the scraps of paper.

He wrote 'R' on a piece and slipped it in the box.
Bastien
I'm every cliche, but I simply do it best
Ronin Taliesin
the Dark Star
Monster Hunter

Age: 27 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 26 - Luck: 30
SUGAR - Mythical - Dragon (ice breath)
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#13
RONIN
if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving
Leadership had never been a thing to make Ronin blush, but he felt the dreaded heat coming to his cheeks now as nobody else piped up. The matter was only made worse with Remi's open vote for him, the hunter hiding a bashful smile and rubbing at the back of his head. The irony that scores of soldiers made him feel at home, but a few close friends made him nervous.

Still, there was his vote to cast. Torn, but knowing what was right and best and proper. Ronin wrote his mark on the paper, folded it into a neat square, and dropped it into the bowl with the others. There. It was done. It couldn't be taken back.
Leatherworker

Age: 29 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
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#14
Ever since Zariah's rather groan-worthy attempt at placating the masses by answering questions (or pretending to, while just waxing poetic about herself) Rory had been considering what things meant—what leadership meant. What being an Adviser would've meant, had Zariah not rescinded her offer in a spiteful, childish way (she could claim it wasn't all she wanted, but fact remained: it was). It was almost as if she'd offered it and counted on the unrest and bickering so she could take it back.

Rory hadn't wanted to be an Adviser very much, but more and more he felt like there was no turning back at all. Things could never go back to being the way they had been, so there was only one way left to go: forward. Somewhere new. Somewhere that changed.

Upon returning to the basement he was surprised to see Bastien there, and also found that Ronin—and Remi—had returned, and when Amalia opened the meeting with asking for leadership candidates the former stepped forward. Rory rolled unspoken words around in his mouth, thinking about it, but eventually swallowing them again. Between Ronin and Wessex he didn't need to put himself forward, and besides, he lacked experience.

Better to let those with vision, who knew what they were doing, to lead the charge. He would watch and learn and wait, or perhaps do something dumb on his own.

(He hated these changes. He hated how he couldn't rest easy if he didn't change along with the world.)

He signed a slip of paper and and folded it, putting it in the bowl with the others. Their fate.

"I'm not afraid of saying who I vote for, either," he said to Remi and the room, "but I suppose this is orderly and easily counted."
burn scars crawl up the left side of his neck and onto the lower left half of his face


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