Cassian Iorwerth

“Everything I do is for you, for us… for everyone.”

Full Name:

Commander Cassian Vas Iorwerth

Nickname(s):

Cass

Commander Iorwerth

Age:

27

Gender:

Male

Sexuality:

It’s Complicated, But If Anyone Asks- Heterosexual

Role:

Commanding Knight

Appearance:

Cassian is an individual that is certainly not falling short of the term ‘striking’. He physically fronts a diamond shaped face that possesses a higher set of cheekbones, well defined jawline, and a slightly more pointed chin. It’s a face that is completely clean shaven, and he keeps it this way at all times. Cassian’s eyes fall into the realm of both alarming and alluring considering the bright orange-brown amber color they are. In addition, much darker brown flecks are littered lightly within the color of his eyes around the iris. Framed by a thinner but dark and curled set of lashes, his eye type is best described as almond- the crease in his eyelids only providing a complimentary depth to his features. They aren’t always expressive in emotion unless he wants them to be, which gives him a slightly intimidating appearance based on the way his eyes alone scream ‘I’m sizing you up’ . Above are his eyebrows that are thinner yet possess a defined ending arch. Unlike his eyes, his brows tend to be fairly expressive whether he likes it that way or not. Cassian’s nose is best described as average; having that of a straight slope and base. In addition, the lips that form the multitude of smiles, smirks, and grimaces are that of a soft shade of rose and possess a slight resting downturn to them. His hair is something he takes subtle pride in as well. With his shade of hair being such a pale shade of blond that it often may appear white when looked upon in the light of day. However, upon closer inspection it does possess a lighter vanilla tint to it. It’s cropped a bit shorter along the sides while the top is long enough for him to run his hands through and push back. More often than not though, the top typically has a more faintly ruffled look to it.

Standing at a respectable 6’2, Cassian’s height serves his ego little justice. That alone is evident with his confident strides and disciplined yet slightly haughty posture. His primary build is a bit more triangular; starting with broader shoulders and dwindling down into his narrower set hips. Cassian doesn’t have an insanely hulkish build, but he does maintain and keep a very evident presence of muscle and toning along practically the entirety of his body. If he didn’t have that toning to him though he could pass as a fairly lanky looking individual. It’s considered remarkable that a knight of his stature -and one that has seen his fair share of days in various battles- has continuously come out unscathed. There isn’t a single scar on the young man, no evidence whatsoever of his skin having been so much as bothered by a blemish even. Cassian’s complexion can be described as a bolder shade of ivory; it possesses little to no warmth, with cooler undertones to match his complexion. Compared to most inhabitants of Ornetress, Cassian could be considered to be quite lighter than the average denizen, but certainly not fair-skinned enough to be thought of as an outsider.

Cassian’s voice is on the deeper end of the vocal spectrum, but it’s not actually that heavy. Perhaps a little gritty or huskier at times, especially when he’s in an authoritarian setting, but otherwise it’s steady and demanding in terms of getting those around him to heed to his every spoken word. It does have a softer side to it, but overall his voice conveys a subtle sadness with a dominant tone of authority and unwavering boldness..

Attire wise, Cassian is a man who generally dresses by what he deems appropriate for himself or a given situation or circumstance. More often than not though, lightweight attire that resides in the realm of greyscale is what he sports. Casual wear is what he prefers, but in times of work and training, of course he has to make exceptions to his preferences. The Commanding Knight’s attire is one that bores the kingdom’s emblem -a 12-pointed star behind the figure of a phoenix- on the back, usually a full set of silver tinted armor, and steel-toed boots, Typically there are more worn looking black boots he prefers to parade in though. The few things always with Cassian consists of his silver-hilted sword obediently sheathed on his left hip. As well as a silver necklace with a pendant with the angel Sonaire’s symbol- two swords crossing.

Personality:

Choleric | Cruel | Harsh | Religiously Devout | Loyal (To Causes He Deems Worthy) | Follows Through With His Word | Diligent | Terrifyingly Ambitious | Adaptable | Fearless | Strong-Willed | Intimidating | Cocky | Morally Grey (Refuses To Acknowledge That Though) | Believes His Actions Are Justified/Righteous | Calculating | Dutiful | Focused | Practical | A Splash of Melancholic | A Bit Deranged | Aggressive | Fight Over Flight - Always | Uncooperative With Most | Toxically Servile to His Queen | Cynical | Dark-Humored | His Way Or The Highway | Unwilling To Alter His Beliefs/Perception

Weaponry:

Cassian is a man who has completely honed in on the craft of blades - knives, daggers, swords, and even so far as an ax. He is an entity that prefers up close and personal combat, and he excels well beyond most in this area of expertise. Of course, if push comes to shove, he could manage quite well without a weapon in close combat. His reflexes are unprecedented -some could say almost inhuman- making him seemingly flawless on his feet and with his fists. Cass is quite literally a force to be reckoned with, making the only real way to corner him in a fight to be to overwhelm him, or to go at him through long-distance fighting measures. Cassian is skilled, sure, but anything pertaining to long-distance is a weakness for him.

Ability:

Rapid Healing:

Now, rapid quite literally means rapid when it comes to Cassian’s healing factor. Even the most major of inflictions are healed in a mere matter of seconds; once could watch his skin stitch itself back together should anyone be in close enough quarters to witness such a thing. This isn't to say he’s invincible, though - enough injuries at once or should someone manage to get to the right spot (such as the head or heart) he could be picked off. This healing doesn’t just pertain to his skin and most organs though of course. Sickness, poisons, and even allergies are all things Cass hardly has to worry about being affected by. It’s unclear whether his superhuman reflexes are an extension of his healing ability, or whether it is its own perk, but Cassian’s reflexes greatly surpass even the most skilled individuals.

Backstory:

Cassian was destined to succeed his father as the Commanding Knight from the day he was born. The young man was brought up around knights; watching his father train countless men in arms for years. And when Cassian reached the ripened age of seven -old enough to at least pick up a smaller variety of swords- his father began training him. The boy's father was stricter with him than he was with any of his other knightly trainees; failure was intolerable, mistakes were inexcusable, and breaks were frowned upon. Cass’ father was harsh, there is no sugar coating that man’s persona, but he was still a loving father - one that had only wanted the absolute best for and out of his only son.

When the prince of the kingdom was old enough to begin sparring lessons, it was only natural that the Commanding Knight oversee the royal’s progress. Cass and Evander were sparring partners from a young age, finding friendship amid their grueling tasks to train and best the other. Of course, as time drew on, Cassian excelled far further in swordplay than the prince, though Cassian was never allowed to beat him without repercussions from his father. A few times the prince would defend Cassian when it came to his father’s harsher treatment, and Cass was never sure how he had exactly felt about that, but it still led to a tenser friendship.

By the time the storm had come, Cassian rarely found himself in the company of the prince- unless they briefly spoke in passing, or the prince was looking to exercise his skills with Cass. The water had claimed many lives the year of the storm, and one of those had happened to be Cassian’s father, leaving Cass to be the sole survivor of his lineage. As rough as the father-son duo’s relationship was, the loss of Cassian’s father took a deep enough toll to send him into a deep state of depression. Deep enough that he mistakenly learned of his abilities he had been cursed with; the ones that made a quick death not so easy to accomplish. But Cassian took his inability to forfeit his life as a divine message; he wouldn’t be unable to find peace above until everyone touched by the disease that cursed them was cleansed from the land. Cassian was to be a savior - more so than ever after the assassination of the king. It was a point princess Marie had only solidified to him when he confessed to her how unworthy he was to live in her court for what he was, but the princess was merciful. She was willing to harbor a filthy ‘other’ in return for his sworn allegiance, and his aide of ensuring her brother never ascended to the throne.

Leko Norbaine

"I could be called many things - but never mediocre."

Full Name:

Lekomir Olis Norbaine

Nickname(s):

Leko (Preferred Name)

Wolf Name:

Mage ("he who is magic")

Color:

Navy Blue

Age:

22

Gender:

Male

Sexuality:

Bisexual

Role:

Rebellion Member

Appearance:

Well-defined is Leko’s face, with a soft heart type structure. His cheekbones reign moderately high, while his jawline is just short of severe. Running further down, rather than narrowing into a more pointed form, his chin gently rounds. There could be times one could catch Leko’s face lined with a subtle stubble - actually, most of the time once could find just a touch of stubble residing on Leko. The greatest flaw of Leko facial wise though is the purplish tinted bags of an ever present exhaustion resting beneath his contrastingly lively eyes. These eyes, while possessing a predatory type appearance, possess darker faintly curled lashes atop, while the bottom lashes are a bit thinner. The color that makes for the spectacle in his eyes is that of a vibrant tealish blue, with prominent flecks and streaks of silver that are easily seen when they glint in the right light. Above these alluring orbs sit eyebrows that are of an average thickness at the beginning, while they form a slight arch just short of the midpoint before lightly thinning at the ends.

His nose is merely average, and dare be said to have a soft button type roundness to it. Below rests an easily defined cupid's bow, adding a flare of definition to his facial front. While his upper lip is rather thin, straight, and lacking much personality, his bottom lip has a visible, light pout. These lips fair in the tone of a lighter peach. His ears retain a more pointed figure, though they are of perfect size to complement that of which makes up his facial structure and the shape of his head.

Shorter but full sits the lightly curled, dirty blonde head of ringlets Leko possesses. A near ombre of light browns and dustier blondes make up his shades of hair, though these colors easily flow into one another rather well. Tapering down to the nape of his neck and both behind and barely over his ears, they handsomely thin, though that light curl is vastly evident. A few more wispy curls curtain his forehead, though none are long enough to brave past his eyebrows to impair his vision.

When it comes to build, Leko’s is that of a more proportional rectangular type figure. His shoulders are perhaps not the broadest (having more of a slope to them in all reality), but they square near evenly with his hips that are straighter versus narrowing. At a height of an almost even 6 feet -a smidge shorter if we’re being honest-, the more athletically built stance he holds is easy to see. Toning fares in his biceps, abdomen, thighs, and calves. The parts of his body that do without a complimentary show of light muscle are thinner, but not frail in appearance. Overall his skin tone can be regarded as fairing on the warmer side, though he does possess a touch of more neutral olive undertones. It is a color that stays rather sun-kissed looking all year round, with the exception of a more defined tan-esque color in the summer.

Personality:

Eccentric | Flamboyant | Snarky | Greedy | Impish | Curious | Packed Full Of Never-Ending Energy | Lively | Humorous | Manipulative | Cunning | Tends To Talk To Himself A Bit | Childish | Unconventional | Emotional | Deeply Caring (Of Those He Adores) | Protective | Ultimate Wildcard | Takes Few Things Seriously | Trickster | Mouthy Beyond Reason (Gets Him Into Trouble) | Amiable | Absolute Social Butterfly | Resourceful | Recklessly Impulsive | Hard on Himself | Careful With Trust | Non-Conformist | Arbitrary | Persuasive | Optimist

Ability:

Illusions:

Leko’s ability is rather complex in its own right, considering the depths it could go. On the surface, it’s easiest for Leko to toy with small-scale uses of his ability; giving the illusion of something being a different color, making it appear as if something -or someone- is there, or even changing his own appearance. For the most part, Leko is limited by both his focus and imagination… though it’s the focusing part he struggles with. As a man with a highly active imagination though, the sky's the limit. Leko is currently undergoing the mastery of his illusions affecting a human’s five senses: the illusion of touch or sensations being the most difficult for him, and something he has the least control over. In some ways, Leko’s ability is quite dangerous, especially should he lose his grip of control over it. But that’s what practice is for, right?

Backstory:

Leko knew nothing but making ends meet amid a life of poverty along the outskirts of the kingdom's capital city. His father was a butcher, and his mother was well versed in the art of sewing… leaving Leko to search for entertaining pastimes elsewhere. Whenever the boy managed to find his way into the capital, he was always blown away at the things he witnessed; merchants talking wealthy men and women into buying knock off relics, or the street magicians that hustled noblemen out of money with card games. Leo was drawn to the art of deceit, and theft; he wanted everything he could never have. And that desire fueled the boy to begin stealing, learning how to construct games only he could win on the streets, and so much more.

A few times Leko was caught for his actions, and came rather close to facing serious consequences before managing to slip away. After the storm came and went, remarkably, both he and his family fared well after the disease ravaged his household. Life quickly went back to normal for the conman soon after, though he was unfortunately arrested after being caught ‘for the last time’. The prison sentence he was facing had been quite daunting, considering it included losing a hand. But it wasn’t until a night before he was supposed to face the consequences of his actions that he discovered his ability to cast illusions - so well that when the guards came looking for him, it had appeared as if he merely vanished into thin air, when he had simply woven the illusion of his surroundings over him, and he slipped away. It was then that Leko knew he was an ‘other’ and would be wanted for more than his schemes, leaving him to flee the immediate area.

For a long time, Leko merely breezed through city after city. Slowly learning how to better use his ability for his own personal gains, and by the angels did his conning get even sweeter with his newfound ability. The name ‘Mage’ began to float around the kingdom, people warning of a crafty, faceless magician who was sure to swindle you for your money. People were mystified by the tales that began to weave their way into people’s heads, mostly in part to Leko’s gossiping skills. Mage was a figure beloved by those less fortunate, and loathed by the upper class and the knight force - as surely there was no mystery magician, but simply an ‘other’ burdening the people. It wasn’t until Leko circled back closer to the capital city that he had inadvertently hustled no other than the former prince himself out of a fair amount of money, and was recruited for the rebellion.

Marie Torano

"If it must end in blood, then so be it."

Full Name:

Queen Marie Vita Torano

Nickname(s):

Mar

Queen Marie

Queen of Ornetress

Her Highness

Her Majesty

Age:

26

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Hetero

Role:

Queen of Ornetress

Appearance:

There is a beauty to Marie that is best described as both dark and dangerous. She’s certainly no delicate looking doll though. However she does possess curves, a face that possesses a simpler enchantment, and an ever present aura of power that makes her in herself a woman one could consider attractive. Her face is that of a subtle oval with a set of high-rise cheekbones to add a flare of definition to her otherwise soft jawline and rounded chin. A dull chocolate brown is the primary color of her eyes, with various hints of lighter, teasing shades of tan flecking her iris’. Just above her eyes are a thinner set of highly defined and angled brows. She possesses a more pointed nose with an otherwise straight bridge, though it does upturn a bit, which can make her appear a fair bit snobbish. The lips that are either always held in a straight line or a bitter smile contain a slight pout to go along with their natural medium toned pink hue. From those lips comes a voice that’s a soft yet chilling sound. It’s an octave or two higher than the average girl, but it’s oddly fitting to the tyrant Queen.. Marie’s natural color of hair is that of a honey brown, fairing on the lighter spectrum of the color. There is a natural subtle wave with evident volume to her hair that falls to her mid back, although you’re more likely to see her with her hair styled in a fishtail braid, or put up into a neat bun.

Marie stands confidently at a height of 5 '8, inheriting her mother’s genes of taller than average height, which makes her somewhat intimidating along with her steady cold stares. In contrast with her aloof demeanor, her skin is a shade of a warmer olive with medium undertones. It looks more like she’s constantly slightly sun kissed with a soft tan actually. It’s rather rare to see her in a relaxed stance, which could make her appear a little rigid when she’s still. It’s pretty clear her figure though does not support a woman capable of brute strength, but rather greater flexibility and nimbleness. She possesses a light hourglass ast her natural body type, no matter how hard she has tried to make herself perfectly proportional.

Personality:

The Queen of Ornetress is a woman harboring a variety of qualities. Above most things, she is a demanding woman; greatly particular as well as selective. The Queen could be considered the type to enjoy ‘the sound of her own voice’ in accordance to her bossier demeanor. Burdening herself with other people’s opinions and feelings is something she won’t do either. Truthfully though she is a fussy female; desiring things to either go her way… or not at all. All things considered this quality would seemly be rather childish, but she hardly feigns much care in changing. Marie tends to hold even those deeply beneath her to unfairly high standards as well - she is no perfectionist herself, but those in her presence best be at their greatest or risk being cast away.

Marie isn’t exactly an impulsive speaker, nor someone careless enough to simply let her tongue run too rampant. However, should something catch the woman’s attention -a security she sees in someone perhaps - she is not ashamed to point it out. While it mostly originates from a crest of malice rooted into her make-up, it also sources a sense of joy to the Queen. Should Marie be assessed for any wrong-doings - a thing she’s become well accustomed to as of recently - she feels no remorse. May be it her actions or crude words, she pays no mind to the carnage it incites. During her time as a rebellious, non-conformist princess, Marie developed a taste for gossip and sick rumors. And as Queen, she still finds herself enthralled by such things. While she must rely on some of her more loyal help to feed her the gossip she craves, the Queen herself is not above allowing her own rumorous words to be passed down; from ear to ear, and mouth to mouth. The things the Queen may choose to spread can, and do, easily morph into weeds of dysfunction and prominent travesty.

Marie adores being met with swells of kindness and compassion, albeit she counters such things with a cold distaste. It’s easy to say she’s rude, because in due fact she is. The Queen is not about to let a single soul believe they are truly worthy of her approval, time, or attention, though she devours the thrill of watching people try to gain her favor. She is quite the defensive creature though. Should Marie face slander of any kind directly she responds with a silence as chilling as ice, but rest assured her despise and upset does not simply end there. The Queen is the type to plunge a beautifully crafted and jeweled dagger into one’s underbelly; the dagger being her mouth itself, her victim ruined by the dastardly acts of her spells of gossip and harsh reprimands. Marie is the kind of woman who, if slapped, will surely slap back… just harder, with a touch of nail.

It would be of no surprise to know that the Queen is vastly shallow; should someone or something not meet her standards, she will no longer pay it much mind. Seeing things for what they are on the surface is all Marie cares to see, and while her quick judgment may in fact be wrong, she refuses to be convinced to see or feel otherwise. With those things that fail to satisfy the Queen, the evidence will surely and prominently be etched into her face in the form of steadfast disappointment. This quality carries over to her materialistic self. If any form of gift should be presented to the Queen, it best be either everything the woman has ever wanted, or at least flattering enough to appeal to her shallow nature. Otherwise, giftbearers can politely fuck off.

Woe to those who prod the Queen and expect such a thing to go unprovoked. No matter how insignificant a wrongdoing against her may seem, if Marie feels it necessary, she’ll get a lick in and claim a pay back one way or another. Her sense of revenge is largely outshined by her sense of pettiness, being someone that dwells on ‘that one day’ someone wronged her, or things went awry for the woman. Through this pettiness lies a competitive essence of sorts. She is not one to lose, perhaps she’s not even capable of fathoming such a thing. No - she’ll lose the day hell freezes over, and even then… just maybe she’ll still stand victorious.

Backstory:

WIP

Karina Valestienne

"A darling doll is all they see, so much so they fail to recognize the monster within me."

Full Name:

Karina de Doveare Valestienne

Nickname(s):

Lady Karina

Kari

Rose of Rhen (Locals of the province of Rhen)

Age:

23

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Hm, A True Lady Never Tells

Role:

Noblewoman of Ornetress

Appearance:

WIP

Personality:

WIP

Ability:

WIP

Backstory:

WIP

Appearance

Although he doesn't really recognize it, Ember is undoubtedly an attractive young man. His face is sculpted and defined while still maintaining a youthful image. He has a sharp jawline with a scattering of stubble - he thinks it makes him look older. His cheeks aren't round, but they still haven't quite lost their youthful look. He has a small button nose that slopes gently down his face. His lips are plump and dusky pink in color, slightly feminine.

Ember stands at an average height of 5'9. He isn't very muscular; he has an average, somewhat wiry build. It's also clear that he hasn't quite filled out his body yet since he's still so young.

Ember has curly dark brown hair that he keeps at a medium length; he prefers it to stop just at his earlobes. His curls certainly don't help him when it comes to looking older than he is. He has piercing ice blue eyes that peer inquisitively out of his face; they are a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance. He has thick eyebrows that are a similar dark brown color.

Ember has a small scar on his chin from a fall he sustained as a child.

Ember's cloak is a deep forest green color. He typically keeps it tied shut so you can't see his clothing beneath it, but he usually wears regular civilian clothes. His mask is small, only covering his eyes, and has a black-and-green checkered diamond pattern.

Personality

Ember can come off as a bit twitchy. As one of the youngest members of the rebellion, he feels as though he has something to prove to everyone else. He's very nervous about making a mistake or letting his fellow members down. He can often be found helping with even the most mundane tasks; he feels useless if he isn't doing something to assist the rebellion.

Ember doesn't dislike being around people, but his hyperempathy makes it hard for him to do so for long periods of time. Being exposed to so many different emotions and thoughts exhausts him after a while. After he's around others for an extended period of time, he can often be found napping around the Den to recharge.

Even surrounded by Others in the same situation as him, Ember sometimes feels ashamed of his ability and mark. His particular gift of hyperempathy can make him feel as though he's overly sensitive. He also believes that his ability isn't as useful as many of the other members of the rebellion's and sees it as more of a curse than a blessing.

Strengths

- can practically read minds

- extremely intelligent

- caring and compassionate

- extremely loyal to the rebellion

Weaknesses

- ability is physically taxing

- anxious

- others' emotions can have a severe affect on his own

- workaholic

Backstory

Ember grew up with just his father. His mother disappeared without a trace when he was a child. Her relationship with his father was always very fragile, so he believes that she left to get away from him. He hasn't had any contact with her since her disappearance and doesn't even know if she's still alive.

Ember's father was wholly unprepared to raise a child on his own and was absent for much of his son's childhood. Ember had to virtually raise himself. His father was a fisherman and would often go on months-long business trips, leaving Ember totally alone to fend for himself. As a result, Ember became extremely crafty and resourceful at a very young age.

When Ember was sixteen, his father's fishing boat sunk on one of his trips. By that age, Ember was able to completely care for himself, and his father had been so uninvolved that his life didn't really change. The following year ushered in the storm that created the Others, and Ember found himself with an ability he couldn't understand and had no control over. He found shelter and solace with the rebellion and is forever grateful to them.

Affiliations

Cairo Voss - father. Deceased.

Liana Voss - mother. Status unknown.