Character Creation

Name: Elisábeth Hedervary
Age: 19
Family: None
Appointed Name Day: 15th of March
Title: Blacksmith
Race: Human
Origin: Unire
Allegiance: Unknown (Possible ties with the House of Ritter)
Religion: Elohim

Personality:

Elizáveta is the only daughter and child to her family, her mother dying due to complications of birth, and her father reaching of age where he was no longer able to remarry and promise kin.

Her father, largely disappointed in the girl in which he had been given, decided to take action instead of letting her live with him as nothing more than a womanly burden; desperate to have someone strong enough to continue the family business of tool and armory craft, he implemented the idea that Elisá was in fact a boy, and until around the ages of 14 - 15, she was raised as so. Because of this, she is naturally more persistent and outspoken, and while by now accepting whom she is, continues to be largely tomboyish in nature. Thanks to this, she has managed to withhold the tenacity to work alongside her father at their family-owned blacksmith, time-to-time taking over for when his old age defies him of labor and working long hours to keep both of them from going hungry.

Once realizing she was in fact deemed to be a girl, Elisá more or less stayed the same besides a few aspects - rarely, on occasion, she'll wear dresses and jewelry. She adorns a skirt, but even that is the bare minimum of her idea of being 'feminine'. Since then she has a great deal of trouble retaining friendships, as she is, surprisingly, extremely self-conscious of herself. This, and the fact that has known to be quite a workaholic, makes for her reverting from loud to, in her later years, much more reserved and less open to new relationships, while also making her a bit more prone to hotheadedness if you aren't careful.

Stubborn and reserved, with fair dash of good patience, she plans to own her father's business and continue to do what she was born to do, no matter what others deem her.

 
"Oi!! Someone has stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.


  Elisá could only react with a yell of surprise, the cloak which she had owned for many a year threatening to rip under the strain of the fabric and hand. She struggled to catch a breath, being tackled down roughly moments before, face which was covered from debris from the fall and slight trace of soot remained, could only contort into a look of anger and confusion as she stared into the eyes of the man whom had dared go after her in the first place. The citizens of the Capitol, it seemed, held little sense of manner; not like she was used to it anyways.

  " Let go of me this instant --  ! " Her tone of voice had gone from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds, her mind trying to process the situation she had unwillingly become a part of, and most importantly, was she in trouble? No, of course not . . she didn't really steal anything, right ? She wasn't exactly noticable within the community, but she was respectable enough not to steal. The mere thought of being accused of a crime so ridden with a past of filth made her even angrier with each slowly-passing moment.

   " I wasn't even near his bakery; what mind do you having grabbing me if you haven't got the proof to accuse me ?  ! "

Name: Ludwig Ritter
Age: 19
Family Name:
date of birth: 3rd October
Titles: knight
Race:Human
Origin:Unire
Allegiance:House of Ritter, Unire
Religion: Elohim
Personality/Headcanon:

One of the Ritter family's young heirs, Ludwig has had access to  all of the training required to serve as a knight. As the ambition to be a knight began when he was young, Ludwig's naturally stern personality was encouraged by the training that he opted to undertake. As a member of the royal family, he wasn't trained equally as harshly as the other boys until he was a squire, which was when he was allowed to train properly with the real Knights.
He has a soft spot for children and animals, enjoying baking and reading. While Ludwig will not succeed his grandfather, he does take on some responsibility when it comes to their domain, though he mostly just helps with accounting and other such activities. As a child, Ludwig found it hard to make friends because of his shy nature, and his stubbornness aided this. The lack of friends his own age was never too much of an issue, though, his family were always there, and he spent plenty of time in the kitchen learning from the maids when he wasn't with the Knights.
Ludwig openly looked up to his family members as a child, especially his older brother Gilbert, however he has become more reserved over the years and it is no longer easy to get him to admit such admiration for anyone.
As well as looking up to Gilbert when he was a boy,Ludwig looked up to Romulus as well, however he realised quickly that his own father was a much more sensible person.
An adult now, his appearance is similar to his family's, and despite retraining the shy aspects of his personality he manages to put them aside for formalities' sake or if he is comfortable around someone.
Ludwig likes to keep his living space tidy, and can be prone to shouting quite frequently. He may have been raised in the castle, among many of higher status than himself, but he often forgets his place and can be found muttering a sarcastic comment under his breath or after turning his back if he feels that the person above him has done or said something stupid.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS
*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

----

A mouthful of dust was not what Ludwig had been hoping for when he visited the Capitol, but it was exactly what he got as soon as the young knight was pinned to the ground by some man accusing him of thievery. He raised a hand to yank down his hood, scowling at the man and narrowing his eyes at him. "I am not a thief, and if you'd let go of me then maybe you'd be able to find the real one, rather than accusing innocent people..." He suggested, putting a hand on the man's wrist and pulling it away from his cloak. "Someone did run past here earlier, however it seems pretty unlikely that you'd catch them by now. I suggest that you take it up with the Sheriff rather than tackling innocent people." Ludwig told him, straightening his cloak and dusting himself off. Hopefully the guy would take his advice instead of causing a scene, though the very fact that Ludwig had been tackled meant that he clearly wasn't in any position to take a break from training. He decided to practice his sword and hand to hand combat skills after dinner if he had the time.

CHARACTER SHEET

Name: Emma Janssens
Age:18
Family: None
Name day: October 4th
Titles:Pastry Chef/Baker
Race:Human
Origin:Vires
Allegiance:Vitus
Religion: Elohim
Personality/Headcanon:

Emma is a beautiful, successful businesswoman. Born and raised in the land of Vires alongside her brothers, she was seemed more of less as a pushover when they were younger. As she became older, she started to stand on her own two feet, and go into business as her elder brother. However, she decided to do something she very much enjoyed, which was baking. Not letting her talents go to waste, she decided to open very own bakery/pastry shop to make a living out of it. Hard working and career driven, Emma always find a way to turn something into a business opportunity, having learned from her father and older brother.

Despite being career driven, diligent, and hard working, she is still very generous and compassionate to everyone she comes across. She's always the first one to lend a hand to anyone who's need it, which cause her to be rather meddlesome at times. Regardless, she is still friendly to everyone she meets, greeting them with a huge smile on her face. She loves to bring a smile on the faces of her customers with her sweets, and she'd love to continue doing so for as long as she's able to.

ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS
*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

Emma had never stole anything a day in her life, and that wasn't going to change now. Why would she, a baker and pastry chef, need to steal anything from someone else, et alone another baker?! If she wanted bread, she could have easily made it herself! That was besides the point of it being ethically wrong for her to steal anything. She always received things the honest way of buying, trading, or selling. It was how she was brought up.

"Wait! You must be mistaken! I didn't steal anything!" She exclaimed as she tried to explain herself, wincing at the grip of the man who held onto her cloak. She had worn the cloak because it was a little too bright for her, not being used to the super bright sun over her face. "I'm a baker myself, so I know how you feel! Please understand I didn't steal your bread." She quickly looked down to her purse, and took out a small bag filled with coins. "I know how it feels to lose a profit, so please take this in reparations for your lost bread. I know it won't replace the bread that was stolen, but I don't want you or you family to lose your lively hood." She stretched out her arm, offering it to the distraught baker. She wanted him to take it to keep his business and his lively hood afloat. She had made more than enough to fill her quota for the month, so this wouldn't hurt her in the least bit. "It's the least I can do for you and your family sir."

Name: Feliciano Vitus

Age: 18

Family: Vitus

Name Day: March 17

Titles: Heir to the throne of Vitus. (No other titles at this time.)

Race: Human

Origin: Vires

Allegiance: House of Vitus, (I got a little confused with this one, so I hope this is correct. .w.; )

Religion: Elohim

Personality/Headcanon:
Feliciano is an incredibly cheerful young man. He's almost always excited about the world around him, (or totally scared. ... Or Both.) On top of all that, he is really friendly. REALLY friendly, which can both come in handy, and possibly be a big flaw, but at least its pretty much almost impossible to make him angry. (Anyone that has ever met him must wonder if there was ever such a thing as an angry Feliciano.) At the end of the day, however, he is always well know for being as sweet as he is. He could never hurt a fly, and all that kindness is pretty admirable.

Being as loving and kind as he seems to be, he's got some things he loves probably more than anything; such as cats, siestas, and his family. His family most likely being the most important thing to him. Speaking of family, Feliciano is the heir to the lovely kingdom of Vires. It sure sounds like a lot of fun to be in charge, he could totally do anything he wanted. Sort of... Hm... That's a lot of power too... And a lot of responsibility. And rules, and laws, and things and-- Well, he sure doesn't like to think about it. He's hoping it'll be a long time before he needs to worry about that. He'd really rather just drink some of their fine wine, and take a nice siesta. Maybe lay out under the warm sun? Sounds like a great way to forget responsibilities.  It's how he spends most of his days anyway. However... What he wouldn't give for a little more... Excitement... In his life? Maybe? Somethings missing. He hopes he finds it soon, you know, before he has to take over, and has way more responsibilities and less fun time.

For now, he wants to have as much fun time as he can get.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS:
*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.


__________________________________________________________


Caught off guard, Feliciano found himself screaming for a moment at the sudden attack. His nervous, shaking hands, trying to push off his attacker.
"I-I'm not a thief!" He claimed frantically. "I-I was just... Borrowing it..?"  At his last two words, he formed a slightly confused smile, as if he was questioning himself about what he just said. Oh gosh, he was sure this wasn't making him look any better.  
"I left my money at home, and I really needed to get it! I'll pay you back in a few minutes!!" He tried to smile genuinely, but it was fairly noticeable he was a bit fearful as well. He was sure he'd be okay, him being the heir to his kingdom, but this wasn't very good for his reputation.
Finally, he took a deep breath to relax himself. A more normal smile showing up on his face this time.
"I was walking through, and I saw two hungry children... I thought I'd get them something... I just... I really did leave my money at home. Please? I'll pay you back in a few minutes, I promise!"
He smiled again, still feeling a little nervous. He knew better than to do this. He should have went home and got his money first, but he thought he could get away with this easily. Guess not. However, it still wasn't going to stop him from giving some food to those hungry children, even if he had to go all the way back home, and get the money, and then come all the way back out here and buy the bread, and go find the kids.  
Sure stealing could have damaged his reputation, but stealing for the needy probably made him look better.
At least he hoped so anyway.

CHARACTER SHEET [Germania]

Name: Ulrich Ritter
Age:41
Family: House Ritter
Name day: 24th of December
Titles: Lord of Adlerhorst, Hand of the King
Race: Human
Origin: Unire
Allegiance: House Ritter, sowrn loyalty to the crown
Religion: Elohim
Personality/Headcanon:

Born and raised in the House Ritter, Ulrich was the only child of the previous Lord, therefore he was the rightful heir to be the next to take the title of the Lord of Adlerhorst, which he eventually took after the death of his father in Ulrich's mid-twenties.
He has a natural gift for wielding a sword and for leading his men into victorious battles. Even as a child his family has encouraged him to develop his skills with various blades and other weapons so he would be once ready to protect and to guard.
According to a deal of his ancestors after the war to keep peace beetween the Houses Vitus and Ritter, the most suitable individual of Ritters is to be send to service as a Hand of the King, whoever takes the throne in the time of his service and is loyal to the House Vitus. Ulrich was no exception, since he was taught of proper reactions and decisions in different circumstances that would come along his way when serving as the Hand.
According to ancient Germanic runes, 'Ulrich' was supposed to mean prosperity and power.
Ulrich is an individual who is hiding behind a mask of emotionless expression that he wears all the time. Over the years his neutral expression almost became trademarked, and it wasn't just once that he heard the phrase 'calm as Ritter' when he happened to overhear conversations beetween others, mostly commoners that were serving under his house.
He doesn't waste energy talking without purpose and meaning and it is in his preferrance that he gets right to the point in a conversation. He is a man of short, yet sharp words and an even sharper sword.
He prefers for others to know as less about him as possible, so he rarely reveals anything else in his character besides the emotionless solider and leader. He has trouble expressing his feelings and emotions, even if it's a rare occasion he'd even want to do so. He doesn't react well in situations that require more than common sense and reason, especially when it comes to family matters.
His pride means a lot to him, and he will not kneel before anyone else but the ones he had sworn loyalty to. However, he respects everyone above and under him until they do something that would shake the man's opinion.




ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.


Ulrich planned on nothing more but to take a simple short stroll on the Capitol's streets. The black cloak that was hanging around his shoulders and the hood over his head were not meant to raise any suspicion. It was a bit windy day and the blonde's hair kept getting into his mouth. It was simply a form of keeping his hair out of his face.
He sensed something approaching to him, but he was too late when he turned around tho check what it was. As he was pinned down on the ground he cursed himself mentally, his reflexes could be sharper. Despite the surprise he kept his neutral expression with a change of slightly narrowed eyes that were staring at the person who attacked him. His hand immediately reached for a small dagger behind his belt – he always kept it with him in case of close-up attacks like this one. »What is the meaning of this?« He asked the other man with a calm, yet somewhat louder tone that indicated he was not some village boy who wouldn't be ready for a fight. »It's not very wise to just attack a random stranger,« he added. 'Especially if they're armored,' he thought to himself, but rather didn't say the thought out loud. He didn't want to cause more attention that was already brought up. »What is the reason of this sudden attack?« He asked, placing his hand on the one that was holding him in attempt to remove it from his throat.

Name: Emil

Age: 17

Family(Great House, if any): Vikings of the North West

Name day(date of birth): June 17th

Titles(occupation. see:list of possible titles): Navigator of the Seas

Race(human, mermaids or wizards. See: list of races): Human

Origin(See: Regions of Aether): Forbitrelse

Allegiance(chosen family under service, if applicable. See: Great Houses list): N/A

Religion: Norse Mythology
Personality/Headcanon:


   When Emil was a young child he grew up under the care of his elder brother Lukas on Nordlys island. He admired his brother's independence and quiet confidence and wished to be like him when he was older.  He often spent many hours by the sea, internally mapping the locations of the rigid rocks peaking through the waves or gazing at the constellations in the night sky. Unlike his brother, Emil didn't possess the ability to see the islands mythical in habitants rather he had a strong connection with animals instead. Not neccesrily being able to speak with them, but knowing their needs or basic intentions. Especially with one of the birds of the island, a black and white bird with an orange  stout beak. Despite how the fowl often irritated him, he considered him his closest friend. One day, when he was still a young child he had awoken alone in his cabin on the island and had found a farewell note from his elder brother which stated he had gone off to sea, but promising Emil he would return one day. Many years past but he never did, and yet Emil kept the letter folded in his coat pocket hoping for his return.

    Years passed and at seventeen Emil remained introverted and reclusive. The young man had developed a slight paranoia along with trust issues when he was among other people when he visited the main island occasionally. In his free time, he spent many long hours with maps of the sea and learned how to use navigational tools. He often bickered with his bird, and developed a sarcastic, deadpanned sense of humor. Not exactly the most sociable person, Emil found himself at a loss with communicating with other humans, preferring to remain silent or polite.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS

*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*



"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.

People are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.

"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.

"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.

"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.

Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.

"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.


The town was over crowded, and much to warm for Emil's liking. The cloak was supposed to keep the dust and dirt off of him, but it was only making him swelter. He craned his neck in a vain attempt to see over the mass of people as he tried to make out a sign so he could find the location of his destination. Cursed height The silver haired adolescent thought bitterly when the air was knocked out of his lungs as he was tackled to the ground. With one clumsy movement, Emil was hoisted into the air and came face to face with his assailant. Violet eyes stared blankly into angry man's eyes as he registered what was being said to him. "Theif?" The Nordic blinked with confusion which only seemed to enrage the man further.

" What do you mean? I haven't stolen anything." Emil inquired, confused.


In an attempt to lift his arms, Emil offered, " Then search me. I have nothing to hide, just some navigational supplies and a letter." The silvered haired youth willed the man would set him down soon, his cloak's collar had begun to chaff his delicate skin. With a sigh Emil brought his hands to the other mans and pried his fingers off his collar and stumbled slightly until he regained his footing and looked up at the other man.

He fumbled in his pockets for a few coins, " Give this to the baker." He said quietly as he pressed the coins into the other man's right palm and headed back over towards his original destination.

(this is Denmark just so that's clear :00)

Name: Trym Olav Haraldson  
Age: 27
Family(Great House, if any): Vikings of the North West
Name day(date of birth): 9th of September
Titles(occupation. see:list of possible titles): king of the vikings
Race(human, mermaids or wizards. See: list of races): Human
Origin(See: Regions of Aether): Forbitrelse
Allegiance(chosen family under service, if applicable. See: Great Houses list): the royal viking family
Religion: Norse mythology
Personality/Headcanon:

Trym Balder Haraldson was born the 9th of september. He’s the son of the king of Forbitrelse, Harald Olavsson, and his wife, Audhild Magnusdatter, though both are deceased now. His childhood was comfortable and he never really lacked anything. His bed was probably one of the softest in the region, and he never went hungry. And then it is of course the fact that he had people whose jobs were quite literally obeying his every command, which was convenient for him, as he has always been a pretty lazy guy. Due to this, Trym became quite spoiled, a trait that he has carried with him into adulthood. When Trym was sixteen, his father died of illness, leaving him the throne, and Trym has been the king ever since.
Trym can best be described as an explosive person. Everything he feels, he feels so intensely that it overwhelms him completely, and he’s not the best at controlling it, either. He’s prone to outbursts of rage, as well as episodes of extreme happiness and seemingly bottomless sadness. With him, it’s all or nothing. When he’s angry, he’s absolutely furious and he’s out for blood, but when he’s happy, he’s ecstatic. He either hates so strongly that he’d be perfectly alright with taking the person’s life, or he loves so deeply that he can’t see himself ever getting consumed by anger and hate again. There’s no in-between with him, no grey.
He is also known to be quite self-obsessed, something that really isn’t surprising with someone in his position. He is the king, after all. Trym has infinite confidence in his own strength, and considers himself to be one of the most attractive people in the region – possibly the whole world. He also believes that he is capable of pretty much anything and that he could win a fight against… well, everyone. Although this is greatly exaggerated, Trym definitely isn’t a weak man, nor is he unattractive. Standing at 6’5, with impressive muscles, he’s certainly both strong and intimidating. Unfortunately, he tends to rely too much on raw strength, therefore not focusing enough on the other aspects of warfare and leading a country. He neglects things such as planning and tactic, thinking that those aren’t needed when he can just use physical force instead. If Trym did not have people to help him plan, he’d probably end up sending soldiers out on impulse, which is really not wise, because, well, his impulse control really isn’t the best.
Despite having quite a few negative traits, Trym is generally well liked. He’s a very friendly guy for the most part, and he enjoys socializing. He is also incredibly loyal, and the thought of abandoning or turning on someone who trusts him would probably not even occur to him. A traitor is the worst kind of scum in his eyes, and he is the type of person who would rather die before betraying anyone. His pride depends on this.
Trym is optimistic to the point where he will continue to believe there will be a positive outcome even when evidence says otherwise. In some cases, this is a good thing, but he often needs other people to pull him back down to the ground. He is also very brave, which could be both a good and a bad thing, depending on the situation. Combined with his overconfidence in his own abilities, it tends to get him into unsafe situations, unless someone else is around to tell him that whatever he is planning to do is a terrible idea.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS
*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

Trym was deep into his own thoughts when someone tackled him to the ground, totally out of the blue. “Hvad fae-“ He exclaimed, before realizing that his attacker probably did not speak Danish. A well placed kick to the groin got the man to let go of the Nordic, and Trym was finally able to get back up on his feet. He brushed the dirt off of his cloak and the bright red woollen shirt he was wearing. “What the fuck?” He practically roared, glaring daggers at the man. Trym was seconds away from lunging at the man and punching his face into a bloody mass, but he stopped himself. It took him a few seconds to calm himself; after all, being randomly attacked in the street wasn’t his idea of fun. “What kind of idiot are you?! I could buy all of your bread with the spare change I have in my pocket! Are you calling me a thief?!” Trym was deeply offended. Okay, sure, Vikings technically stole things. But that was completely different from just walking into someone’s store and stealing all their shit. That was something Trym would never do. Then it dawned on him that someone had stolen all the bread. Not just a couple of loafs. Every single piece of bread. How would the baker get money today? What if he had children he had to feed? Suddenly, it was like all the anger melted away. Trym just couldn’t be pissed off anymore, even if he tried. “Someone stole all of your bread? …All of it? That’s terrible! That’s the worst thing I’ve heard in this entire week!!” Trym said loudly, nodding dramatically to show how deeply he cared about this. “Here you can have some money! Wouldn’t want ya kids to starve right? If ya have kids, of course! I can’t know if ya have kids, ‘cause I don’t really know ya, but here!” Trym offered the man some coins. “I don’t really know how much bread costs, but this may be enough- let’s hope so, right? I really don’t know.” He laughed, all evidence of the rage from before had vanished from his face. Who would do such a thing? Stealing all of someone's bread was just cruel. Poor baker.

Name: Kim-Ly Liu

Age: 22

Family(Great House, if any): Liu

Name day(date of birth): 2nd September

Titles(occupation. see:list of possible titles): Lead Designer/Engineer, Part-time agricultural worker

Race(human, mermaids or wizards. See: list of races): Human

Origin(See: Regions of Aether): Rongyu

Allegiance(chosen family under service, if applicable. See: Great Houses list): Liu Family

Religion: Inari Okami

Personality/Headcanon:


Kim-Ly is a rather multi-faceted individual, and one perfect for any ruling family of Rongyu. With a strong connection to her homeland, Kim-Ly had always wanted to do her part to be sure it remained a strong power. She soon found that the way to achieve this was through using her best strengths. While proficient in farming and agriculture, her primary fascination comes through advancing technology. From this, Kim-Ly does her best to make designing new technologies, often weapons, or mundane household objects and mechanics appear of use to those around her, while being certain not to falter on contributing to Rongyu's considerable agricultural drive, should she be needed.

However, for all her strengths, it is noted that Kim-Ly is rather weak in conversation, often preferring to stay silent and avoid trouble. In some cases, this can appear cold, but the reality is that Kim-Ly is in fact a rather shy woman, wishing to avoid attention as much as possible. This often results in her working hard (often overworking) to create something impressive with her knowledge of mechanics, only to dodge or refuse to accept any praise she then receives from her peers. It is also a common case that, in an effort to make herself of use to her home, she can isolate herself for several days at a time to work, then isolate herself in the subsequent days in order to recover.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS

*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*



"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.

People are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.

"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.

"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.

"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.

Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.

"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

"Ah!" the young woman shrieked, lunging forward merely to escape the man's grip, turning quickly to face the baker. "Excuse me?" she asked softly, giving the man a rather cold, expressionless stare "What makes you feel I stole the bread?" After standing properly and dusting herself off, in her typical 'woman of few words' style, Kim-Ly pointed in a direction. Someone went that way. But you blamed me, so you're on your own." she stated rather bluntly, although the haste with which she turned and left the situation meant one could easily see her eagerness to simply escape the situation entirely.

Italy Romano / South Italy ((Am I doing this right))

Name: Lovino Vitus

Age: 21

Family: Vitus

Name Day: March 17 ((I don't know if he and Feliciano should really share the same date, tho. :o))

Titles: Son of the King Romulus, Pickpocket/Thief

Race: Human

Origin: Vires

Allegiance: House of Vitus, initially.

Religion: Elohim

Personality/Headcanon:

The elder brother of Feliciano and the runaway son of the King. Lovino is a stubborn man with a rebellious attitude and a nasty mouth, often cussing, threatening and calling others 'idiot' and 'bastard'. Yet underneath this tough exterior he shows to others, the brunet is actually rather timid and more of a coward. He appears to be extremely lazy, but the real reason (partly) why he doesn't want to work is that his clumsiness brings more damage than good. When he was younger, he tried cleaning his own room several times but just ended up making it messier. He believed that his hands were unskillful and useless since then, and refused to do any important work.

He was the firstborn indeed, yet the King had shown more affection and favor to his younger brother. He saw that Feliciano had all the talent he wanted-- be it in arts, cooking or cleaning, which is why maybe their father preferred the younger Vitus than him. Feliciano was as cowardly and ineffectual as he, yet was more loved by the people. This made Lovino jealous and feel inferior, and he already expected that the throne won't go to him even though he was the first child. With this great frustration, he decided to leave the castle.

Lovino lived his days in the outskirts of the Capitol near the village (mainly because he was terrified of the other regions), acquiring a normal, non-royal life as he kept himself low-profile and used different names to avoid identification. Having been with bandits and thieves, he finally found where he's good at: pickpocketing. And his favorite victims? Women. If there's one thing Lovino inherited from Romulus, that was the charisma and flirtatious nature when it came to women. He seemed to be more sociable, kind and friendly with the female population. With stealthy hands and distracting his victims with the "Vitus charm", Lovino makes a very good pickpocket and is almost always successful in his work.

Despite everything, Lovino still cares for his family, gathering news on what's happening to the kingdom every now and then. However, his pride and feeling of inferiority are keeping him from returning home.

He has dark brown hair and has a more tanned complexion that Feliciano. His eyes are colored hazel and he has a long curl that acts as his erogenous zone, which usually rests towards the right side of his head. Lovino loved to wear the finest clothes when he was still living as a royal. Now he mainly wears a khaki colored, long-sleeved shirt, a dark brown leather vest, black pants and boots and a dark colored cloak, if needed.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS:
*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*

"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.

People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.

"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.

"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.

"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.

Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.

"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

------------------------------------------------------

"Damn it," Lovino cursed under his breath, squirming his way out of the crowd. It was terribly hot and humid today and the black cloak he wore did not help in easing himself. Now, he just had to quickly slip out of this place and--

The Vitus' body was quickly knocked down to the dusty ground, his face slammed against the pavement. Without a second warning he was picked up by the collar, his angry, hazel eyes meeting the bastard's pair. "Che Cazzo fai?" He yelled, struggling against his grasp. As he was obviously angry at the man, tension surged in his veins. If he heard it right earlier, he was called...

"A thief?" The brunet spat out in utter shock. Oh, his heart was beating so fast. He was, indeed, a thief. A very good one at that, which is why he's surprised that he's been detected! Now which of his earlier targets had noticed this and brought it to the attention of this man? The lady with a silver heart penchant? Or the lovely lass earlier with a golden bracelet? Damn, and today was a good haul...! Both the jewelry he managed to slip in the pockets of his cloak felt heavy. Oh, if word spreads out, Romulus and Feliciano will probably find out about his life now and will despise him more, as he believed...

Though the sight of a pudgy man behind his assailant who looked like the local baker broke his train of thoughts. He raised a brow. "What? Me, a bread thief?" He barked out, snorting. "And why the fuck would I steal your bread, old man? Do I look like I'm hungry? Do I look homeless?" Well, partly, yeah, he had no permanent home, but they don't need to know that."I'd rather steal your earnings than your dumb pastries!" He said smugly, before falling quiet upon realizing what he just blurted out.

.... That may have been too much information.

Name:  Antonio Vitus
Age:23
Family: House Vitus from Vires
Name day: February 12th
Titles: Admiral of the Golden Fleece’s Fleet
Race: Human
Origin: Vires
Allegiance: House Vitus, Sworn to lifelong servitude to the King and his successors.
Religion: Elohim

Personality/Headcanon: Antonio on the outside is kind and cheerful, run by his love of passion for the arts and his interest in knowledge. He puts up a large façade mostly out of the reason to make others think that he is always this way in a mood to keep them happy. He had always truly had more of a deeper understanding to the human heart then the mind. He only truly opens up to the people who care about him most as Antonio is much more than the eye can see. He cannot read the atmosphere, nor does he even try so, although he means well, he happens to come off as insensitive and clueless at times. When he drinks wine he's said to get sentimental, but getting him drunk makes him scary, it is advised to stay away from him when he is drunk and his crew can attest to this fact.

Noble of birth by relation to King Romulus, Antonio was destined for greatness but alas he was not picked for heir. Instead, Antonio trained night and day in hope that he would get the position the King called Lord Commander of the Golden Fleece, and when the day came... he was not chosen as Lord Commander.  A mistake, he had called it, when he saw that Alfred was the one who became it and not him. Oh, how much that set him off inside and how much it secretly still does when he has to take orders from the bumbling blonde idiot and smile as if they were partners. Instead the Fleet was given to Antonio which is a step down from Alfred’s command, but if he didn’t take it he would look like a fool. Over the years Antonio co-existed with him and actually learned to like him even though in the back of his brain he still thinks it should have been given to him, that the King must have been drunk at the time and that Alfred is a fool. He blocks this away, trying not for his true emotions to escape because he knows it will be his downfall.  

ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

Antonio had just been enjoying his day in the market. It was sunny, not too bad with a slight breeze. He had bought some bread, and a few tomatoes…oh how he loved those, he would eat them like apples if no one was watching. Also, some shameless flirting in the market didn’t do any harm especially in hopes of the young ladies' happiness. It was then when he was turning away from a table to exit out into the streets when he was tackled to the ground; a precious tomato smooshed.

Antonio’s head tilted up to his accuser. “If you could politely remove yourself from me I could show you that I indeed paid for everything in my bag.” He told him nicely hoping the man would remove himself. Thankfully he did, and Antonito stood up to face him.  He handed him over one of the written receipts in his bag from the young lady who he bought from.  “There. Next time check your facts sir, before you tackle down the Admiral of your protected Fleet.” He had to throw a small boast in there, always trying to be prideful wasn’t he? “Now I would make you pay for that tomato you squished but seeing as this is an honest mistake you won’t have to, be glad I am kind, sir.” He He told the man before turning quickly on his heels, his black cloak flowing as he moved through the crowd once more in search of a stand holding more of his favorite snack.

Name:  Matthew Atherton
Age: 19
Family: House of Atherton of Fastus
Name day:  July 1st
Titles: Heir to the Atherton Throne
Race: Wizard
Origin: Fastus
Allegiance: House Atherton
Religion: Elohim

Personality/Headcanon:

The Atherton's are known for their pride and wealth, but Matthew has always been left in the shadows, establishing a low profile, and possibly there was a reason for that. Clumsy and shy, he felt as if he wasn’t as good as them and in his own mind often embarrassed them as a child. He couldn’t even harness the powers he had been given. Of course his family didn’t know until he was twelve that there was something special about this one. He could perform wizardry just like his brother Arthur, but no matter how hard he trained all he could make were mistakes. So Matthew had been keeping himself quiet and reserved instead to suppress his powers. He was kind yet always nervous always knowing that something bad could happen if he slipped up.

It was then the day came where Alfred gave up his claim to the throne and Matthew got quite insecure. Despite what he thought was his brother’s reassurance that Matthew could do this, he wasn’t too sure. Now thrusted into the spotlight of the poster child for Atherton he stood. With this quick of a change, Matthew developed an unconfident persona for he didn’t know how he could handle a kingdom as he could barely handle his own powers. Sure, Alfred may have his own rather unconventional ideas  of running a House that wardens Fastus, but he always has been a leader and Matthew had gotten used to that image of him and could hardly see himself in such a position. He was afraid at first of being heir in fear that he would probably mess up. With his lack of confidence at first, he even approached Alfred and tried to convince him to take back the heir position again, and when he refused, Matthew knew a change had to happen.

It was then Matthew knew he had to build some confidence. Normally he is always calm, quiet, conserved, and not very willing to speak up—it could be because of the fact that he cannot find the right words. Sometimes still in the kingdom, he gets mistaken for his brother, the great knight… it’s much of a letdown when he has to explain he was just his younger brother.  Unlike Alfred, Matthew hates fighting, but now with the switching thrust he knows how to control his “unwanted gift”, as what he calls it, and can fight strongly if necessary. Sometimes even Matthew gets mistaken as the culprit for things Alfred has done which he dislikes the most at having to clean up his brother’s messes. When he is not being mistaken for his brother, others tend to forget that he even exists. He is also passive aggressive (and was once able to make Alfred cry by arguing with him for over three hours and pointing out every single one of his faults). But for the most part, Matthew tried to stay cheerful and positive now even if he sometimes still feels as if odds are stacked against him.

Matthew is also a very good tactician and gives him the ability to think more logically then way outside the box. This method of thinking helps him also keep in control which is a thing Matthew needs to survive. He doesn't realize that this way of thinking may make him a competent lord someday. But his opinions and ideas are mostly left unheard.

He also has a pet bear Kumajario who helps him relax and one of the only things he can truly open up to and also helps him build up the cheerfulness he needs to know one day how to rule a kingdom with chivalry and charisma.

Now knowing that he is trying in a way to show his brother that he can be better at him at this, their brotherhood has budded into a friendship. As much as Matthew finds Alfred annoying (and somewhat idiotic at times), he truly cared for his brother despite some sibling rivalries. The person he is closest to in the family would have to be Francis. Matthew had always looked up to him as a young child with his kindness and passion; it was inspiring. Now Matthew is in a brand new world and now he has a chance to prove himself to his family once and for all.


ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.

Matthew felt himself being tackled into the hard stone of ground at the marketplace. He started to panic as he felt his hands grow warm, the magic flowing through them as he grabbed the man’s hand nervously before realizing he might burn him as he let go, more nervous than ever. He pushed him away in fear that he might unwillingly harness his powers
.
Why did he just do that, he just had to make himself more of a target than before. He tried to brush it off as if it was nothing as he looked back at the man. “What were you looking for sir, a thief?” Matthew questioned, still trying to use what confidence he had to block out the nervousness. “Well I can assure you I am not any thief… see nothing on me.” He laughed slightly, trying to seem friendly as he showed the man the insides of his cloak. “Maybe he went further that way out the gates, he shouldn’t have reached the docks by now and I am sure there is still time.” He tried to be helpful at least, maybe people would know him for this small act. “Anyway I better be on my way, and you on yours, have a nice day mister.” He flashed a smile before disappearing into the crowd letting out a sigh of relief. It seemed like his rambling had saved him once again especially from this man who almost discovered someone much more than some street thief.

Name: Roderich Ritter (Austria)

Age: 23

Family: Ritter

Name Day: October 26

Titles: Currently None

Race: Human

Origin: Unire

Allegiance: House of Ritter

Religion: Elohim

Personality/Headcanon:
Roderich is a guy more on the quiet side, but can still get pretty angry, and a bit loud, though he prefers to express his extreme rage through playing piano. Speaking of piano, he's got incredible skill in playing said instrument, in fact, he makes it look insanely easy. He spends a lot of his time continuing to practice several different pieces, and occasionally makes attempts to write his own. He's part of the Ritter house, and probably complains the most out of all of them. He's also quite tidy, but lacks the ability to keep things in order, and along with this, he should never go traveling alone (if he even decides to venture out.) because he will likely get himself lost.
He lives a very indoor type of lifestyle and he prefers to keep it that way.

To sum Roderich up into just a few words, you'd probably just consider him a pretty spoiled brat.  (Good thing he's not the heir to the throne.) However, he is a bit jealous that he isn't the heir to the throne, he believes that he, after all, that he is best suited for the position, but he just has to deal with that. But he's pretty likely going to find more than enough reasons to be mad at Gilbert, however, he does deeply care for him, and the rest of the Ritter house, despite his incredibly snobbish attitude. He's not all snob though, he can be pretty relaxed, and laid back, but... Just tries to hide it by all that "gracefulness", but that just continues to make him look like kind of jerk sometimes. Oh, and he has this great skill of finding practically the cheapest prices of products. (Most of the time) But that can come in pretty handy.

Over all, he can be pretty snobby and spoiled, but he's really a good guy, and he's quite happy in the Ritter home.

ROLEPLAY ANALYSIS:
*this is a mock RP. Submit a form of a paragraph roleplay reply to the following, along with the character profile. It aims to analyze the way you establish an interaction. Consider this a starter*


"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.


__________________________________________________________

Roderich's eyes were wide with fear, but quickly he calmed himself down to seem like he knew nothing about what was happening. He firmly pushed the man off of him, dusting off his clothes after he did.
"Unhand me, you moron!" He pushed his glasses back up with two of his fingers, scoffing at the man before him.
"I do believe you have the wrong gentleman!! In fact, accusing me for such an act is ridiculous!"

Ah yes, everything was working perfectly. He was sure the man would no longer suspect him of the stolen property. He just needed to keep up the act a little longer, and he was sure the man would leave him alone, if not apologize as well.
"Unbelievably rude of you might I add," He continued as he then tried to fix his hair into the particular way he liked it.

"Besides, who in their right mind would steal from your store anyway?" He added as he then took out a pocket watch, and checked. Not really checking for the time, but making it look like he was an important man, with some important things to do, very soon. He then put it away, adjusting his glasses yet again.

"After all, everything in your store is far too disgusting! It's much better across the street!" Ah yes, perfect, this man will be so sorry for what he's done.
"Well then, I'm sure you've seen your mistakes, carry on."  He began to walk away, sure that everything went swimmingly.

Then he accidentally dropped some of the stolen bread.

He glanced down at the food, and then back around just a bit to see if the man had seen.
"Crap," He muttered to himself, quickly trying to get lost in the crowds again, and then cutting into an alley way to hide in until he was sure the man wouldn't be pursuing him anymore.

Name: Matthew Athertos
Age: 20
Family: House Atherton of Fastus
Name day\: First of July
Titles: Giver of false Hope
Race: Human
Origin: Fastus
Allegiance: Believer of the One and Only God;  Sworn to the Sword, Crown, and the Life Giver
Religion: Elohim
Personality/Headcanon:

Perhaps it was because of the constant muttering of the voices. Perhaps it was all in his head. Perhaps the people were only muttering at him with closed mouths.
Either reason, it scared Matthew as to why he had thoughts such as those. Perhaps God had given him a reason to live? Or perhaps it was God trying to torment him.

He knew that neither of those were real. God was nothing to him then, why would he "whole-heartedly" believe in him now?

The voices and thoughts stuck at his head like a sore thumb. It would ignore his constant plea and continue to tell him. To yell at him.

Of course, having a "power"--or so he believes--like that, he had to use it, whether it was against people's will. The secrets that the voices had told him--they were all sweet and satisfying. He would tell the king of what the people had done. He would tell them the sins that they try to hide.

One day, or was it one week? Perhaps a year? His memory was not to be trusted these days.

One day, a old man came to him. He said nothing to his family, but thought of many things. It told Matthew that the man knew of what he had, and that it may be cured.
He declined, and banished him.

After that, he used his so called power against people, and it made it stronger. It controlled him. Some days, the maids would look at him with a scowl on their faces. When asked why, they said he touched them, and "devoured" them. He knew what that meant.

He decides to follow what the old man had said, and embarked on a journey that he knew would be scary. He had accomplices with him--as what he calls them. They would experience threat, and trickery, and distrust whenever Matthew was along with them. At the end of their journey, they forgave him, then beat him almost to death, and was left in the Sandy Dunes.

He was found by a group of scavengers. They gave him food and shelter for days. But soon his stay was outranked, and he had nothing to give to them. With him having nothing, and their leader growing impatient, they did all they had wanted to him.
Raped. Starvation. Torture. Humiliation.

They did everything with him. Once they were sure that they were finished, they brought him back. He did not know as to who those men were, or why they brought him back. All he knew was when he was returned, the leader muttered in his ear, "The true God saved you," thus giving him "hope" again.

He knew that he was hopelessly clinging unto something not real, but having something would not hurt. And, with that, he learnt to give people "hope" too. By giving them "kindness" and "forgiveness," they learnt to trust him, and by doing so, he was mostly summoned and accused easily.

But, at least he would not be the one surprised once he is "on top."




"Oi!! Someone have stolen all of my bread!" A baker cried from the distance, searching through the thick crowd of the capitol. Soon enough, a concerned pedestrian inquired of whom he thought was the one who stole it.
People are are pushing each other to make it through the day. The humid breeze of the ocean covering the skins of people under the prickly heat of the noon sun.
"I was just cashing in my earnings for the day and then it's gone! What's left of my living is gone!" He cried, wiping away the rolling tears off his face.
"Don't you have any idea on who stole it?!" The man asked, impatient.
"I-I--" Stuttering, he squinted his eyes to see through the crowd in search for the thief. "I think it's that one! The one wearing a black cloak!!" A stubby finger pointed at the back of a hooded figure meters from where they stood.
Hurriedly, the good samaritan pushed his way through the sea of people to catch the suspected thief to whom he ended up tackling.
"Thief!!" He cried, pining you to the ground before picking you up, fists grasping the collar of your cloak.
-----------------------------------------------------------

He was surprised at first, but quickly caught up as to what was happening. He had heard some people muttering about a someone stealing bread from a poor baker? Or perhaps the bread was poor? He did not know. He only heard it from the crowds, and had not witnessed it. And, currently, he was being persecuted for something he did not commit.

The man pressed more of his weight unto him as he barked out more questions. He could not hear them of course, as he was distracted by the constant muttering of the crowd. They were looking at him with odd faces. Looking at him as if he was part of the scums of the world.

Soon, the man let out a breath, then stood up. He seemed tired, and perhaps needed some rest, and him trying to capture Matthew, was not helping. He wanted to help him, of course, but showing his face to the others would cause humiliation to the baker and the man. It was only obvious. But perhaps the baker was lying, and only wanted money by doing so?

With the constant corruption in the towns, he could not help but think that that may be possible. Seeing as to how his "perpetrator" was standing up, he supposed that he too would do so? Or perhaps he should stay down? Perhaps it was a trick gesture. He decides to sit up--technically not standing, technically not lying down.

The man looks down at him, and says, "I am not going to ask you again--did you, or did you not steal his bread?" Matthew shook his head. He knew that lying would get him in trouble with the king, and may even make people look down on their family. He decides to at least "tell" them the truth.

As usual, the man did not believe him, and asked, "Why are you wearing a robe then?" Matthew snaps his head up to look at the man, though his hood was covering his eyes. Not revealing his identity whatsoever. He tries to deepen his voice to mask it from the others, "I-I . . . was heading into town . . . and I-I w-was . . . r-rather am a new . . . comer. . . . Y-yes . . . a newcomer. . . ."

The baker and the man looks at him oddly--as if he was the biggest idiot on Earth. Perhaps he was.  He nods at them, stands up, then ran away as fast as he could. As much as he had wanted to reason out with them, he found it hard to talk with strangers he did not know.

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