OOC
Minecraft Username: ShipIt.
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes.
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes.
(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: Friend.
(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: childofrapture
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins):
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
A moment passed, silent and simple amongst the rocking of the carriage they all huddled within. Had the hooded figure heard them? Were they ignoring the woman? Finally, a low hum followed. Steel blue eyes peering up past the velvet of his cloak. And in turn, a silky smooth voice. "Why do you think, people come here?"
Lips curled some, shallow and sour. Not that anyone could see behind his collar. They were going to be in this carriage for a few more hours, relenting to the question. Could at least pass some time. "There is only so far a ship or a boat can take you, or the likes of me. At least." Brows furrowed softly, huffing out. "Call it..my rite of passage. Us Mistan love an adventure, proving ourself. Now I'm onto the last steps -- I couldn't bring my boat, sadly." A sarcastic snort followed, holding his breath. Oh how he wished that was the case, how he wished that he had been whisked off in a boat of his own. Celebrated, and welcomed back. This, this wasn't the case. Not for him. "You know, the whole go explore and come back with something 'exciting'."
The older woman raised her brows, fingers meekly clutching her basket that laid relaxed within her lap. With interest -- she continued. "Mistan, my. Aren't you a long way from home? Is that what you are, dear?"
Another long bout of silence was heard, before finger-tips lifting to delicately loosen his hood. Lowering it, and revealing full blue eyes -- sclera and all. A scary sights perhaps, to the unexpected. He tilted his chin up. "Mistan, but as you can tell. Not only that -- it seems the waters of isles did more to me than expected. They don't tell you about the Fey though, especially not the ones with scales."
A sharp glance was given, lashes fluttering in thought. Fingers entwined at his front, jaw tense. He offered more. "The Mist Isles are a journey in themself, or I like to call it a terror. Leaving is one thing, but travelling back. You are wishing for a second death wish." Blunt and overly brazen, he leant back against the wooden bench. A beady blue eye peered at the woman. "Maybe it is Siren Serene punishing anyone who would steal from her depths, but surely she hasn't been kind to many who have sought to visit. Haven't you heard to folk-tales, stories of her anger and punishment? Ha." A wry cackle came, as well as a snarl of sorts.
An uneasy glance came from the woman now, the cackling didn't help. Not at such a callous act, -- wouldn't you be wary when trapped in a carriage with someone? "So, what is your main stop -- when do you get off?"
"Doesn't everyone want to find themself at 'The Spire'? It's supposedly the most popular. I heard it's where someone can get the most work, that is. Since a city was erected around the grounds." How fun it was, to act like he had a choice. That he could go home at any point, that this was what he wanted. "Occult shops, seamstresses..the whole lot. And I guess it's always fun to hear of the 'great disappearance'. That's always a good one." He mocked.
A long stare was given, before the old woman finally dipped her head. Best she left this alone, she thought. "Some things are best to be left in the past."
Character Name: Lakan.
Character Race: Fey-touched.
Character Age: Twenty-four.
Brief Physical Description: Lakan is much the product of his ancestors, the old sirens that swam through the vast seas. With piercing steel blue eyes, and long black hair that flows down his back. Scales of the same blue litter his arms, delicately placed along his fingers between rings of silver. Lithe and athletic, he stands at a elegant 6'4 -- with tanned smooth skin.
Image of Skin and Figura Model: Temp skin. 
