Indivar

Description: Summer-sky to Green Warlord | kayndred

Indivar

    Summer-sky to Green
  • Warlord
  • Played By: Kayndred

    Florist
    Dhemlan Terreille
    5 Posts    186 marks
Indivar
« on: August 01, 2019, 03:17:38 PM »
Indivar


The Basics


Full Name: Indivar
Age: 450
Gender/Pronouns: he/him

Ethnicity: Eyrien
Birthplace: Askavi
Current Location: Askavi
Profession: Florist

Caste: Warlord
Birthright Jewel: Summer-sky (CUT 24)
Offering Jewel: Green (CUT 12)

Face Claim: Can Yaman



The Body


Height: 6"
Body Type: Muscular
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Gold

Appearance:
Happy eyes, a ready smile. Strong featured, from brow to nose to jaw. Muscled from years of lifting and carrying heavy loads from cart to shop and back again, and warrior training before that. Comfortable with his body, aware acutely of how physical presentation impacts perception since he is unable to give his ideas presence with his own voice. Aware of the power a body has, the image it leaves behind. Broad shoulders, big hands and big wings, Indivar's silhouette is an imposing one, wings made for aerial combat, tight maneuverability and quick take offs.

It's the creases that catch the shadows, where body reflects history. Scarred, across his back and shoulders, wing membranes striped in white. Callouses deep and rough on hands that yearn to be gentle. Hours of work to leave marks that trail and wind, years of toil by others to shape Indivar against himself. But it is the little scar on his throat, faded now, lost against the tan of his skin and his beard, that carries the most weight. Aged, not even a memory, the skin barely puckers. A root for the rest of them to grow from.


The Mind


Craft Strengths: 15pts
Power Blast
Psychic Communication
Craft Weaknesses: Binding Spells, Locks, Tracking Spells

Personality:
Genial, and quick to laugh, unashamed of how it croaks. Very conscious of his space and how big he is, Indy prefers being outside to being in, and not just for the quietude of being with plants. It's easier to escape something awkward when there's more space to actually space to do so.

Fear and memories, more than rage, drive his emotional outbursts. What genuine anger lives in him is as quick to spark as it is to fade, but when it comes it comes heavy, magnified by the life long frustration of never truly being heard. Indivar's emotional projections are often staggering and disorienting, for both himself and those around him. These are, consistently, followed immediately by consuming guilt. Gifts and ready assistance are quick to follow, and it's probably a little unseemly how ready he is to scrape and bow for the people he hurts, but he would much rather apologize overmuch and keep his people than not do enough and lose them.

There is no greater fear of Indivar's than being alone.

No matter how he acts or how soft he may seem, there's a killer living in Indy's skin. This is a man who's refined his power blast to a keen edge, who's flight may not be graceful but it is fast. He's made peace with himself and the lives he's taken, and he would very much like to not have to take anymore; but that doesn't mean he isn't ready to, should it become necessity.


The Backstory


Family:
  • Name | Mother | Summer-sky to Purple Dusk Black Widow (deceased)
  • Name | Father | White to Rose Warlord (deceased)
  • Name | Sibling | Rose to Opal Caste (unknown)
  • Name | Sibling | Tiger Eye to Purple Dusk Caste (uknown)
  • Name | Sibling | Yellow to Summer-sky Caste (unknown)


History:
CW for: Attempted Infanticide, Murder
Birth to Birthright:
Of all of Indivar's memories, the constants are these: a father shrouded in desperate, hurting love, hands unused to being gentle; stilted conversations, rigorous training. A woman, a figure that he is told is his mother, who's eyes don't see him and who's hands flinch from his. Siblings, even though they don't live together and rarely interact in the village.

His silence.

It takes him a long time to piece together their story, their fractured family. Like pruning one of his minder's tiny rosebushes, delicately trimming dead leaves until the bush reveals, until the old is stripped away.

The woman they call his mother has always been a shade, a shadow of a person. Distant in a way Indivar will never be able to know; not in the same way at least. They had thought it different, then. A house filled with the sound of a babe's laughter, a babe's cries, a mother's low crooning words of comfort. Content. She had loved him, those first months.

After, she had not.

And Indivar had paid for it. In blood, in his father's screams as he tore through the village to the healer's home, in hours of terror. With his silence, after.

She had loved all her children, but the shadows grew heavy, and they, like Indivar, were taken from her too. This is how he comes to be raised by the healer and her family, same and other in one. He sees his siblings, or who he will learn are his siblings, paired to other families, but they are never his in the way the healer's children seem to belong to each other. Indivar sits in silence, learning his signs and aching, mollified by the rigorous lessons his father and the other men grind into him.

It's not what he wants, those long hours practicing his forms or learning to wield a blade. His proficiency doesn't matter, callouses building and lean, youthful limbs hardening out. Its tiring. Beyond brief visits to the home of the healer, it's the only time he sees his father.

He shows no inclination toward his Birthright for a long time, long after his age mates have gone for theirs. Twenty and anomalous, he bends to the urging of the healer and his father, dives down until it feels like reaching, comes up with a Summer-sky and something diminished in his father's eyes. Expectations Indivar didn't know existed, extinguished.

Birthright to Capture:

The next fifty years are, unintentionally, the best of his life. He has no knowledge of what's to come, of the Dark Lady waiting on the horizon of all the territories. He knows only his signs, his increasingly accurate mental communication, and his father's training. With his Birthright comes advancement in flight, and at last Indivar's gawky, over-large wings gain practical use. Flight is something to be adored, a freedom from the trails of the earth even as he learns aerial combat.

The more he trains the more he fills out, and soon it's not just his lack of speech that impacts how people see him, but his height. His wings. It doesn't take a Dark jewel to be imposing, he learns. Even the boys in his training group turn from him, a mixture of disgust and apprehension building between them. Indivar is different, makes strange noises when he tries to speak, and his body takes to muscle like a bird to flight. He's shot up, gone from lanky to lean to strong, edged in danger.

He has friends, in that some of the warband boys take a cautious liking to him. He bonds with his siblings, as much as he is able, their father orbiting widely around them. He visits his mother intermittently, but whatever brief recognition she has of him passes more and more quickly with each meeting, until she ceases to register his presence in her home.

So he takes to tending her garden instead, nurtures the fading flowering plants and the hearty fruit trees, digs his fingers into the soil and imagines some other life. One where the woman inside the building he doesn't care to enter could love him. One where his family is whole.

Training, gardening, sleeping - this becomes his life. The same thing, day in and day out, the promise of a good warrior lurking in his bones even if the idea of engaging makes the scar on his throat hurt. He wants to please his father, wants to keep his friends, so he grinds down into himself and focuses on his blades.

This will save him, more than anything. A broken tool can be re-purposed, after all, if the foundation is good.

And Witch's horde likes it better that he can't speak.

Capture to the Death of Witch:

He wakes to fire and screams, the healer shaking him awake. The air is thick with fear and smoke. The ground shakes with the impact of stray Craft. He gathers the healer's children, urges them from the house. They join the running crowd quickly, and he would be with them, but his feet turn a different way.

When he finds his mother's home the door is blasted off. A wingless man drags her from the house, a fist in her hair. Her silence is terrifying, and the wingless man drops her, the back of his hand meeting her skin with a crack Indivar will swear he can hear, even over the screams and the flames.

He takes the man's arm in his rage, Craft slicing through it, a knife through the attacker's throat the next.

That's where Witch's men find him, crouched over his mother, urging her to take flight. He mantles and tries to scream and drains his Summer-sky to its limit over her, but she will not move and he will not leave.

They overtake him.


In the morning, the sky blackened by smoke, Indivar is lined up with a handful of other men and women, bound by the wingless ones. There are others, across from their line, gripped by hair and shoulder and wing. Indivar's own are bruised, the membranes severed in several places, and bruises litter his skin. It aches to breathe. His mouth tastes of blood. His heart thunders in his ears.

Across from him his mother is forced to kneel. Her eyes are hazy, unfocused, and she lists. Blood mattes her hair to her scalp, covers half her face. Her wings are mangled.

The wingless man behind her places his hands on either side of her face. There's a burst of Craft, something dark, darker than Indivar's bruised jewel, and she splits. From crown to collar, like a ripe fruit.

Raw from overexertion, there's no sound to accompany Indivar's cries. He weeps into the dirt as they move along, and the anguish around him settles.

It clings for a long time.


The fit are taken in, wings bound, flight limited. Beaten into training, drills more demanding, subservience involuntary. The boys of his almost-warband are scattered, families torn and disbursed. He's told that his father is dead by one of the surviving men before he, too, is shipped away. Parents gone and siblings lost across the vastness of Askavi and Witch's gripping shadow, Indivar sinks into himself. Learns to ignore the jeers of his tormentors, becomes an extension of his weapons rather than they an extension of him.

His wings heal, eventually, but he fears his flight is lost. No Eyrien healers to tell him what will recover and what will not, only the ability to stretch, carefully, and only when he is alone. The mobility returns slowly, drawn out like the ache in his heart, lagging. He runs his hands over the dirt and dreams of plants.

He is passed over often because he is broken, scars too visible, inability to speak widely known. They think him absent, like his mother, and taunt him for the misconception. He learns service beneath people who hate him and who he hates in return. Always shuffled to border skirmishes with the anticipation of death.

But he lives. Time and again, fighting Witch's enemies, Indivar returns. The scars build, his control over his jewel grows, and at last he is brought before a Priestess. Late, again, later than he'd dreamed, the Darkness gives him a Green that tastes of regret and memories. At last, the power to defend, after all that which he would have kept is gone.

Instead, he turns the Green on enemies who's faces he doesn't get close enough to see, and walks forward. There are always more orders to follow.

Post Witch:

What saves Indivar is distance, in the end. A mangled toy, ill fit for anything close to a court, kept at the border with the other disposable members of conquest. Wedged down at the point where Askavi, Dene Nehele and Raej meet, the backlash of Witch's death flattens the watchtower and rolls the earth like a wave, half burying Indivar and several others in their trench-posts. He crawls free of the earth, gasping, bleeding, shaken from the violence that had almost completely obliterated his hastily erected shield. Nauseous with the depletion of his Craft he collapses.

When he wakes, the world is changed forever.

Witch, dead at last, slain by Eyrien kinsmen he will likely never meet, if they survived. The Dhemlanese soldiers are already scattered when he lifts his head from the dirt, bodies littered indiscriminately across the churned earth. Mistaken for a corpse himself, Indivar finds no other soul in the vicinity.

Alone, again.


In the hundred odd years since Witch's death, Indivar has pulled himself out of the mud. Found a town, small and quiet and shaken, like him, from the wrath of the tyrant. He takes care of his plants and works odd jobs and doesn't let anyone touch his wings, threaded as they are with scar lines. A quietude has settled in him, built between him and his roses and his vegetables. He's relearned to fly, shakily, and keeps the monster built out of war carefully boxed away. Hopefully there will never be a time when he has to wear that face again.


The Writer


Player Name: Kay, Kayndred
Player Pronouns: she/her/hers
Timezone: -8
Contact: PMs, Discord

Inactivity Instructions:
Archival, adoption, write out, lastly death.
Roleplay Sample:
See Michael Villiers.

The Darkness

  • Staff
  • Red to Black

  • 0 Posts    9999788793 marks
Re: Flowerman
« Reply #1 on: August 01, 2019, 03:29:08 PM »
The Darkness has granted you...
Summer-sky
Cut 24
to
Green
Cut 12




As requested, FIVE family rolls:
1: Summer-sky to Purple Dusk
2: White to Rose
3: Rose to Opal
4: Tiger Eye to Purple Dusk
5: Yellow to Summer-sky
 What’s better than one shiny? Why, three shinies, of course!	   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   A fancy certificate awarded to those noble writers who finish what they start. Redeem it to get a bonus of 10% more marks for a completed thread.   A fancy certificate awarded to those noble writers who finish what they start. Redeem it to get a bonus of 20% more marks for a completed thread.   A fancy certificate awarded to those noble writers who finish what they start. Redeem it to get a bonus of 20% more marks for a completed thread.   What’s better than one shiny? Why, three shinies, of course!	   What’s better than one shiny? Why, three shinies, of course!	   Wow, it's really heavy!  

The Darkness

  • Staff
  • Red to Black

  • 0 Posts    9999788793 marks
Re: Indivar
« Reply #2 on: August 31, 2019, 09:48:45 PM »
Approved
 What’s better than one shiny? Why, three shinies, of course!	   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   How nice! This item allows you to re-roll the Jewels on one character sheet for free.   A fancy certificate awarded to those noble writers who finish what they start. Redeem it to get a bonus of 10% more marks for a completed thread.   A fancy certificate awarded to those noble writers who finish what they start. Redeem it to get a bonus of 20% more marks for a completed thread.   A fancy certificate awarded to those noble writers who finish what they start. Redeem it to get a bonus of 20% more marks for a completed thread.   What’s better than one shiny? Why, three shinies, of course!	   What’s better than one shiny? Why, three shinies, of course!	   Wow, it's really heavy!  
 

Welcome to Witchlight

We are an AU Black Jewels RPG that is continuously expanding the world lore to truly make it our own. Come join us and play in our sandbox!

Open since 2017, we have 9 unique races, from birds to wolf-shifters. Feel free to drop into our Discord, lurk our wanted ads, and see if Witchlight is the fantasy site you should always have been looking for.

We have an RPG Rating of:

Timeline

FALL - AW103

The seasons will change on 11/20.

Recent Topics

The Nettle & The Needle by Nikodemus Vee
[September 27, 2020, 10:01:30 PM]


Home is an Empty Word by Min Sung
[September 27, 2020, 10:56:45 AM]


Fabrications by Kyung Yi
[September 26, 2020, 11:44:40 AM]


Transactions by The Darkness
[September 26, 2020, 06:51:50 AM]


Alesia Skye by The Darkness
[September 26, 2020, 06:50:25 AM]

Chat

Guest Friendly Discord
login & choose a name, no registration required!

Wanted Spotlight

The Fellowship
Companions | Open Jewels | Kaeleer
Plaguebearers

Rumor Mill

Credits

Witchlight is loosely based upon the Black Jewels Series by Anne Bishop though it has been adapted and expanded by our members. All lore, characters, and writing belongs to the members. Site graphics & custom codes were created by the staff. A special thanks to Wolf & Katarina for all their help with the planning of Witchlight and the writing of the base lore.

Community Awards Winner