OOC
Minecraft Username: THE_PRECURS0R
Are you at least 18 years old?: Ayup. 25.
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yup!
(Optional) Were you referred by someone? If so, who: Neji101
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): Howdy howdy. People call me many things but I mostly go by Storm or PRECURSOR. Most folks will know me by the latter in the MCRP community. I've bounced in and out of the space for many countless years.
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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?”
How do you respond (in character)? (150 words minimum - please make sure to include some references to our lore in your response!)
Nervous was a word for it. That feeling pulling at the fibers of his being sending a tingle through his spine at each thought that sparked a frazzling light of anxiety in his mind. They came in waves, like the wind pushing against his misty features as it rolled over the hills and through the grass of the plains, crashing through the open flap in the wagons tarp. And just as they came, they fizzled away in the sheer excitement of it all. He smiled.
How exhilarating this was to not smell the salt of the Mist Isles. To breath the air of the Southern Reach was refreshing. Trading familiar waters for uncharted lands, this was the taste of the unknown. Of discovery for ones lot in the world. He takes it in with one deep breath before the half-fey let his words out, golden eyes directing to the kindly woman.
"Oh - where ta start? There's too much ta say, really."
He folded his hands, one atop the other.
"My Grand-pop. He had a lotta' crazy dreams for 'is children. And 'is grandchildren. Mosta' them had ta do with findin' a life outside of the Isles. Seeking destiny. That's what he wanted to do with 'is life in 'is twilight years, anyhow."
He fiddles with a golden band on his wrist, engraved with the motif of the Siren Serene. The innumerable charms that hung from it jingle faintly like soft bells, each a reminder of a song, a tale, or a dream.
"Aye. Wanted ta do what he couldn't. And what ma' brothers wont. And ma' father didn't... For 'is sake, I picked myself a dream. And chased it here."
He couldn't help but laugh, his nose crinkles up and his cheeks rise.
"Afraid the ol' man might've cursed me, seeing as how it sounds so daft coming from my mouth now! Chasin' imaginary things like it's all siren-song. But we've made it this far, Aye? No sense givin' into the nervousness now." Llewellyn gives a toothy grin as he settles with his conviction, passing the time with more chatter to the old woman or perhaps just humming seafaring songs to himself to fill the coming hours. Embracing whatever the tides would carry him to in the coming days.
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Character Name: Llewellyn Golos Requiem
Character Race: Half-race - Arsa-Sidhe/Fey-Touched (Wetlands)
Character Age: 28
Brief Physical Description: Llewellyn is a curious individual. In Sirensong he was often teased not only for being a bit of a flimsy individual, but also for his complexion which earned him the name "Golos the Ghost" For his snow white skin and platinum blonde hair. The only mark that distinguished him growing up was his golden-yellow eyes that shined like a lighthouse in the fog. Nowadays, in his young adulthood, he attempts to distinguish himself by keeping his straight hair trimmed neatly above the shoulders, bangs pulled back into a knot at the back showing off his very pointy ears. His sides are shaved and artificially colored with black ink. At times shaving sea-faring motifs and patterns into the sides like waves or more abstract patterns. He has some faint scaly texture to his upper eyelids, up to his temples, and also across his arms that shine with pearlescent hues. He also tends to decorate himself with golden jewelry such as earrings or a charm bangle he keeps on his right arm. He's just cutting 6'2" and is fairly slender, generally unfit for labor.
