Application: Elsewhere
Your name: Layla
Your age: 24
Your personal journal: shomin_kohi
Contact information: AIM: chasercheshire | Y!M/MSN: fourtail_core@yahoo.com | Plurk: 10778438
Current characters: n/a
Fandom: Original Character (Dethroned)
Character name: Skye Fiinix
Character age upon death: Physically 29, at least 3000 years old
Character information:
Once upon a time, there was a world ruled by gods, a world where Chaos and Order battled for control of the world. You may have heard the tales: immortal creatures with great power who watch over man. These gods were different however. They could die. A human life is but a heartbeat to a god and thousands of years may pass in a single god’s “lifetime”. When a god reaches the end of his lifespan, he passes his throne to his successor. Of course, there are a thousand ways a god may die. He may be killed but this will be hard to do if not impossible if you’re not another god. He could reach the end of his life… or he could loose his believers.
A thousand years had passed since the first god of Chaos had passed the Throne to his successor. He had seen his people thrive and grow, seen a war start and begin… but the world is changing and his people’s beliefs have shifted. The gods are slowly loosing the faithful to the lure of modern technology and vice.
And this is where Skye comes in.
Once a powerful Chaos god who ruled alongside a beautiful queen, he now stands as a man with strange powers, living in a bar alongside a princess who lost her kingdom and a death god moonlighting as an arms dealer. Each morning he wakes up is a miracle as who knows when his last believer might disappear? You can say he now lives as mortals do: fearing that the next day may be his last.
Skye can be described as everyone’s father. Being the second half of a pair of gods who once ruled the world does that to you. He’s rather protective over those he cares about and he will scold you like a father would if you do something he doesn’t approve of. He treats almost everyone he meets as his child, especially those with a rather dark alliance. (Have a villain? He’d probably try to keep an eye over him.) Because of this, he isn’t afraid to stick his nose in other people’s businesses. Of course, he’s also one of the best people to come to for advice having been around for quite some time. He’d usually sit you down and talk to you, giving that warm comforting feeling as he does so.
Time and losing almost everyone close to him had changed him. Now, he spends his time in quiet contemplation of the past and his current situation.
Skye is a quiet man, choosing to silently observe rather than cause harm to others. The god of chaos is merely called such as his alliances to dark magic and the night, alliances which are responsible for the presence of demons, death and disease in the world. Of course, horrible as these are, they are a necessary evil for balance in the world. While most chaos gods were shown as beasts or berserkers, those who would attack at will, Skye is a rather sophisticated creature. He enjoys reading, seeing it as an interesting insight to how humanity has changed over the years. After all, he does like observing humanity and delights in the little things that have changed through the centuries: technology, culture, humanity itself and their beliefs.
He carries himself as a king despite the fact his followers are dwindling. Skye never slouches, never appears sloppy. He always stands erect and proud but there is always a rather warm smile on his face though this smile seems to be laced with a hint of sadness as if he tries to keep a face for those who see him. His one vanity lies as his hair, which he considers his greatest asset. He keeps it long and straight, a long mass of platinum-blond-bordering-on-silver. Great effort is placed in its care, Skye taking almost hours in the bathroom; teasing, combing, conditioning and washing it. Get one strand out of place and he WILL slaughter you.
Not your typical chaos god.
If one didn’t know better, one would never peg him as that. For one thing, Skye gives the impression of one belonging to the side of Order rather than Chaos. He stands at around six feet tall and carries a rather regal bearing, as if you were faced with a king. His eyes flit between gold and silver, silver being the default color and gold as what they turn into when he tries to access his powers. As mentioned, he keeps his hair long and it reaches almost to the base of his spine. It is either loosely tied or left to fly free.
Time had changed and required him to choose a wardrobe set rather than loose flowing robes. For the world he lived in now, he goes for suits. Lots of them. Armani, Arrow, Onesimus, the best he can get. Almost all of them are white or grey. He would never settle for anything less. White is the color of this chaos.
If made to battle, he chooses a weapon with two forms: A silver longbow and a pair of thin swords. He is skilled in either form though he can only utilize one per fight. It takes quite a lot of energy to transform his weapon as they are both rather old (Skye and the weapon), this effort equating to a normal human being climbing three flights of stairs.
How did your character die?
He lost his last follower. Of course, he saw this coming and when he did, he bid the princess and reaper goodbye, walked down the street and slowly started to fade away.
What were your character's last words? “I’m sure you’ll both be just fine. “
Why are you applying for this character?
When I saw the premise, I saw it as a possible continuation for his canon. It’s been a while since he’s seen any real RP action and I thought it would be good for him to come back out in the open.
First-person writing sample(s):
[ There is a small click as he turns on the table light in front of him. ]
There. That’s better.
[ Skye clears his throat and settles back in his seat, pressing his fingers together. ]
I assume the lighting’s better now? You can see me? Good.
[ He breathes in, closing his eyes a moment as he composes himself before speaking. ]
Shin and Layla, if you see this message then I must have passed on. Rest assured it was the will of the powers that created us and the powers that created the world that I pass without naming a successor. Perhaps it is time for the age of the gods to come to an end.
I leave with no regrets. I know you’re both capable of taking care of each other, aren’t you? You’ve both come such a long way since we first started living together and words alone can never tell you how proud I am of the two of you.
[ The god forces a small smile. It’s quite evident that he’s tearing up as well but he goes on. ]
Shin, you must keep the Ateliere running. Its been here before I arrived and it shall continue to thrive without me. Your reputation precedes you after all. You have a reputation to live up to and I’m sure your customers will never tire of your service.
Layla…
[ And he sighs. ]
My dear. You’ve come so far… and you’ve grown up.
[ He can’t help but wipe his eyes now. ]
You remind me of your mother, did you know that? There were times where you gave off the same air as she did. I’m sure you’ll be alright. So please, go on as you were, princess. You would have made a fine queen had we our throne.
[ But there’s that smile again. ]
So then. Both of you. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
[ And the feed cuts. ]
Third-person writing sample:
White, like his robes are, like his suit is, like the snow that falls to the stone walkway that leads through the garden. White like the hyacinths he tends to so carefully. White like the silk he lay upon and lay her in many many years ago.
He thinks back at such a time and how long ago that was. His mind was young, impetuous, perhaps a little shallow then. He knew she was using him. His mind was quick like that: hard to pull the wool over his eyes and never missing a beat. Yet he gave in. Why? The answer alludes him even to this day. Perhaps it was that need she fulfilled, a carnal hunger that only acts of this sort could satiate. He still didn't know and dismissed the question as one of those things that didn't need answer, explanation or reason. They simply were.
All is white today. He is as well, as is his usual practice; white cloth shoes on white stone, white robes against white walls and leaves, white wings ruffling at the slightest breeze. He wonders if they were still there, those flowers her had grown there around that time. Silently, he walks through the garden upon thise stones until he comes to a far spot away from the garden. They were barely seen amidst the snow covered ground and the camouflaging branches but he knew they were there, untouched and undisturbed, growing as vibrantly as they have for so long. It was as if they responded to him, waking to his presence and calling to him with a fragrance that once hung around him and still lingers like the barest wisps of a dream.
White fingers grace the hidden velvet of the tiny petals and once again the question comes to him. Why? He laughs at his foolishness right there and then. How stubborn of him to try and solve a puzzle with no answer. Shaking his head and dismissing the question once more, he reaches out and plucks the flower from where it blooms.
Later that night, he does something unexpected. He treks through his brother's realm and leaves the blossom where he knows she'll see it. If she takes it and remembers, it matters not to him. He just wishes to pass the question on. Perhaps the petals hold the answer. Perhaps it's all there in black and white.
Your age: 24
Your personal journal: shomin_kohi
Contact information: AIM: chasercheshire | Y!M/MSN: fourtail_core@yahoo.com | Plurk: 10778438
Current characters: n/a
Fandom: Original Character (Dethroned)
Character name: Skye Fiinix
Character age upon death: Physically 29, at least 3000 years old
Character information:
Once upon a time, there was a world ruled by gods, a world where Chaos and Order battled for control of the world. You may have heard the tales: immortal creatures with great power who watch over man. These gods were different however. They could die. A human life is but a heartbeat to a god and thousands of years may pass in a single god’s “lifetime”. When a god reaches the end of his lifespan, he passes his throne to his successor. Of course, there are a thousand ways a god may die. He may be killed but this will be hard to do if not impossible if you’re not another god. He could reach the end of his life… or he could loose his believers.
A thousand years had passed since the first god of Chaos had passed the Throne to his successor. He had seen his people thrive and grow, seen a war start and begin… but the world is changing and his people’s beliefs have shifted. The gods are slowly loosing the faithful to the lure of modern technology and vice.
And this is where Skye comes in.
Once a powerful Chaos god who ruled alongside a beautiful queen, he now stands as a man with strange powers, living in a bar alongside a princess who lost her kingdom and a death god moonlighting as an arms dealer. Each morning he wakes up is a miracle as who knows when his last believer might disappear? You can say he now lives as mortals do: fearing that the next day may be his last.
Skye can be described as everyone’s father. Being the second half of a pair of gods who once ruled the world does that to you. He’s rather protective over those he cares about and he will scold you like a father would if you do something he doesn’t approve of. He treats almost everyone he meets as his child, especially those with a rather dark alliance. (Have a villain? He’d probably try to keep an eye over him.) Because of this, he isn’t afraid to stick his nose in other people’s businesses. Of course, he’s also one of the best people to come to for advice having been around for quite some time. He’d usually sit you down and talk to you, giving that warm comforting feeling as he does so.
Time and losing almost everyone close to him had changed him. Now, he spends his time in quiet contemplation of the past and his current situation.
Skye is a quiet man, choosing to silently observe rather than cause harm to others. The god of chaos is merely called such as his alliances to dark magic and the night, alliances which are responsible for the presence of demons, death and disease in the world. Of course, horrible as these are, they are a necessary evil for balance in the world. While most chaos gods were shown as beasts or berserkers, those who would attack at will, Skye is a rather sophisticated creature. He enjoys reading, seeing it as an interesting insight to how humanity has changed over the years. After all, he does like observing humanity and delights in the little things that have changed through the centuries: technology, culture, humanity itself and their beliefs.
He carries himself as a king despite the fact his followers are dwindling. Skye never slouches, never appears sloppy. He always stands erect and proud but there is always a rather warm smile on his face though this smile seems to be laced with a hint of sadness as if he tries to keep a face for those who see him. His one vanity lies as his hair, which he considers his greatest asset. He keeps it long and straight, a long mass of platinum-blond-bordering-on-silver. Great effort is placed in its care, Skye taking almost hours in the bathroom; teasing, combing, conditioning and washing it. Get one strand out of place and he WILL slaughter you.
Not your typical chaos god.
If one didn’t know better, one would never peg him as that. For one thing, Skye gives the impression of one belonging to the side of Order rather than Chaos. He stands at around six feet tall and carries a rather regal bearing, as if you were faced with a king. His eyes flit between gold and silver, silver being the default color and gold as what they turn into when he tries to access his powers. As mentioned, he keeps his hair long and it reaches almost to the base of his spine. It is either loosely tied or left to fly free.
Time had changed and required him to choose a wardrobe set rather than loose flowing robes. For the world he lived in now, he goes for suits. Lots of them. Armani, Arrow, Onesimus, the best he can get. Almost all of them are white or grey. He would never settle for anything less. White is the color of this chaos.
If made to battle, he chooses a weapon with two forms: A silver longbow and a pair of thin swords. He is skilled in either form though he can only utilize one per fight. It takes quite a lot of energy to transform his weapon as they are both rather old (Skye and the weapon), this effort equating to a normal human being climbing three flights of stairs.
How did your character die?
He lost his last follower. Of course, he saw this coming and when he did, he bid the princess and reaper goodbye, walked down the street and slowly started to fade away.
What were your character's last words? “I’m sure you’ll both be just fine. “
Why are you applying for this character?
When I saw the premise, I saw it as a possible continuation for his canon. It’s been a while since he’s seen any real RP action and I thought it would be good for him to come back out in the open.
First-person writing sample(s):
[ There is a small click as he turns on the table light in front of him. ]
There. That’s better.
[ Skye clears his throat and settles back in his seat, pressing his fingers together. ]
I assume the lighting’s better now? You can see me? Good.
[ He breathes in, closing his eyes a moment as he composes himself before speaking. ]
Shin and Layla, if you see this message then I must have passed on. Rest assured it was the will of the powers that created us and the powers that created the world that I pass without naming a successor. Perhaps it is time for the age of the gods to come to an end.
I leave with no regrets. I know you’re both capable of taking care of each other, aren’t you? You’ve both come such a long way since we first started living together and words alone can never tell you how proud I am of the two of you.
[ The god forces a small smile. It’s quite evident that he’s tearing up as well but he goes on. ]
Shin, you must keep the Ateliere running. Its been here before I arrived and it shall continue to thrive without me. Your reputation precedes you after all. You have a reputation to live up to and I’m sure your customers will never tire of your service.
Layla…
[ And he sighs. ]
My dear. You’ve come so far… and you’ve grown up.
[ He can’t help but wipe his eyes now. ]
You remind me of your mother, did you know that? There were times where you gave off the same air as she did. I’m sure you’ll be alright. So please, go on as you were, princess. You would have made a fine queen had we our throne.
[ But there’s that smile again. ]
So then. Both of you. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
[ And the feed cuts. ]
Third-person writing sample:
White, like his robes are, like his suit is, like the snow that falls to the stone walkway that leads through the garden. White like the hyacinths he tends to so carefully. White like the silk he lay upon and lay her in many many years ago.
He thinks back at such a time and how long ago that was. His mind was young, impetuous, perhaps a little shallow then. He knew she was using him. His mind was quick like that: hard to pull the wool over his eyes and never missing a beat. Yet he gave in. Why? The answer alludes him even to this day. Perhaps it was that need she fulfilled, a carnal hunger that only acts of this sort could satiate. He still didn't know and dismissed the question as one of those things that didn't need answer, explanation or reason. They simply were.
All is white today. He is as well, as is his usual practice; white cloth shoes on white stone, white robes against white walls and leaves, white wings ruffling at the slightest breeze. He wonders if they were still there, those flowers her had grown there around that time. Silently, he walks through the garden upon thise stones until he comes to a far spot away from the garden. They were barely seen amidst the snow covered ground and the camouflaging branches but he knew they were there, untouched and undisturbed, growing as vibrantly as they have for so long. It was as if they responded to him, waking to his presence and calling to him with a fragrance that once hung around him and still lingers like the barest wisps of a dream.
White fingers grace the hidden velvet of the tiny petals and once again the question comes to him. Why? He laughs at his foolishness right there and then. How stubborn of him to try and solve a puzzle with no answer. Shaking his head and dismissing the question once more, he reaches out and plucks the flower from where it blooms.
Later that night, he does something unexpected. He treks through his brother's realm and leaves the blossom where he knows she'll see it. If she takes it and remembers, it matters not to him. He just wishes to pass the question on. Perhaps the petals hold the answer. Perhaps it's all there in black and white.