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RP! I have
RP!
I have seen a severe inactivity of RPs in the last few months. The only other active one is Cerithe's, so. . . here goes nothing.
In the world of Azeir (pronounced Ey-ZEE-air), monarchs are not present. The supreme leader is the Timekeeper. The Timekeeper controls all aspects of time: curfews, hours of play, school, or work, and the calander. He can literally cut a year in half. He also controls births and deaths by fanshioning clocks for every citizen and breaking them when he believes their time is up (citizens' times can run out from natrual causes as well). Some citizens though, undocument their children. These "undocuments" are illegal citizens and must lie low. One undocument who goes by the codename "Clockwork" starts a secret cult of undocuments who want to riot against the Timekeeper.
Your charrie can be an undocument or a servant/gaurd of the Timekeeper. You can have two charries max.
Charrie Sheet~
Name:
Role (undocument or gaurd/servant):
Age (13 to 20):
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Backstory:
Why they dislike the Timekeeper:
Shipping:
Other:
Here's mine:
Name: Alicia Demeir, goes by Ali
Role: Undocument
Age: Nineteen
Gender: Female
Appearance: Ali has short brown hair that goes to her chin. It's never brushed and sticks out. She has big, soft brown eyes and a smile planted on her face. She has a slight tan from living in a slum. Ali has cuts or bruises from living in the previously mentioned slum. She is usually wearing a simple brown tunic and pants and is barefoot.
Personality: Despite being raised in a slum, Ali trys has a happy smile and is warm and welcoming. She loves to be in the main city center, where people are bustling about. This makes it easy to peek around and go down hidden alleyways or pickpocket. Ali only steals if she has to, she usually relies on other people in the slum. If Ali is asked questions about her family, she quickly changes the subject.
Backstory: Ali's family has been the people in her slum. She lives in a tent on her own. She relys on a family by the last name of Merrin (someone can have their charrie as one of them) for food and clothing. Her father and brother died for protesting against the Timekeeper before Ali was born, which is why she's undocumentated. Her mother was devasted by this and died shortly later. The Merrins took her in until she was fifteen, she still lives near them.
Why they dislike the Timekeeper: Her father and brother were killed when he smashed their clocks in front of them and her mother.
Shipping: Nah.
Other: This isn't related to Ali, but nobody can role play as Clockwork, but they can be mentioned or portrayed in a post. Clockwork is mysterious and can only be described vagely (basically, nothing of his appearance can be described, except for something like "his eyes shone", or "he swept his hair to the side") Clockwork is male.
This is extremley irrelevant, but this is the longest post I've ever written.
submitted by Secret
(February 7, 2020 - 8:28 pm)
(February 7, 2020 - 8:28 pm)
@Umi | Could perhaps Oliver Adler be a childhood friend? Also, perhaps we could ship them together? It's fine if it is a no. Oliver is sixteen, by the way.
(February 26, 2020 - 2:45 pm)
@Luminara | Of course we can ship them together and they can be childhood friends! Sorry for the late response! I didn't see this!
(February 29, 2020 - 10:51 am)
Why is there a Timekeepers Code? ToBeCont'd
(February 15, 2020 - 8:18 pm)
There is a set of rules for Timekeepers to follow, such as they cannot speed up clocks. But these rules have many loopholes and are not watched for. I'll start the role play either today or tomorrow! (I would be starting right now but it's not even eight am yet and I'm really tired.
(February 16, 2020 - 7:17 am)
Uhm... Do you mind if I reserve a spot? I'd really like to join, but I haven't got the time to say anything. I'll post the character later.
(February 17, 2020 - 8:17 am)
@-Finch-, it's totally fine to reserve! After Finch posts their character, I'm closing ALL spots, unless you have already reserved.
Sorry for the delay, but I'm finally starting! I'm introducing a few characters who will probably be NPCs, but I can post their charries if someone's intrested. . .
/Ali\
I was built for running. My lanky legs and long arms fly through the wind, and my feet pound the cobblestone street. Pushcarts selling vegatables, clothes, dry goods, the occasional jewelry fly by me. My first memory is running in a race with the Merrin children, and Mill timing us. Mill, the strongest of the slum. She was in her twenties when my parents died. She was so kind, and took me in, along with her three other children. Hen was the oldest, she's twenty now. Works at the shoestore in the square, but the pay is so bad it barely covers her apartment, so she can't send anything. Next up is Crescent, who is exactly three months younger then me. She's like my twin. We work together, persuading (okay, stealing) people to give us some food or clothing to trade with. And last but not least is Gail, the youngest of us. He's going to be fifteen next week, or so we think. We're all undocumented, so we don't really have birthdays. We have birthweeks or birthmonths, like most of the undocument population.
Out of the corner of my eye, a vegatable cart catches my eye. It looks promising, with only a few rotting ones. And it's cheap to, only a few silvers for five of them. I don't know where Crescent is, but if she saw this, she'd definently take one. I walk up to the sellar, and try to put on my best "please help me" voice.
"Sir, please help me. My older brother's sick, and he can't get the money to pay for our rent. I lost my job today, and I can't feed my family. . ."
"Take a batch. Pay tomorrow," he says in a gruff voice. That was easier then I expected.
"Thank you sir!", I say then run off with the basket of food. A block away, I turn into the alleyway. Three makeshift tents are there: mine, Crescent's, and Mill and Gail's. In the middle, a few peices of wood lay where we cook our food. I drop the basket down and yell,
"I got our dinner! Fresh vegatables!" I look down at the basket, survying what vegatbles I got. Two tomatoes, a squash, cucumber, and sweet potato! Those were rare. We'd have to save that for Gail, he loved them. "Squash tonight!" I say.
"Oh that's great, did Crecsent get more wood?", Mill asks.
"I don't know, I haven't seen her since this morning."
"She'll come home soon. She's done this plenty of times."
"And here I am!" Crescent says from behind me.
"Did you get wood?"
"Yep, what'd you get?"
"I got some vegatables." I drop my voice. "One of them's a sweet potato. Don't tell Gail."
"Got it. Sorry I'm late. I dropped by Hen's. She told me some news about the Timekeeper."
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you later."
/End\
There wasn't really much stuff about the Timekeeper there. Sorry. I just thought that Ali needed a bit more of a backstory. I can also post Crescent's charrie if anyone wants to role play as her or just needs a backstory.
(February 18, 2020 - 10:22 am)
Ohhhh, yay! We are traveling to the palace now where West is on duty... Is it okay that this is written in the past tense?
/West\
I stood dutifully as another group of loyal, Documented, and completely trained guards passed by. As soon as they were gone, I sat back on the ground and pulled my pet rat, Bugsy, out of my uniform pocket. "They're fools, Bugsy," I said, stroking his tail. "They just go about their lives and don't worry about what the Timekeeper can do to them." It was true. The Timekeeper could kill anyone he wanted with something as simple as a clock. As an Undocument-turned rebel-turned guard, I can say these things. I'm nt officially a guard. Okay, I'm technically not supposed to be a guard at all. The truth is, I killed an official guard with my pocket knife and took his uniform, so now I'm an undercover spy. It's... interesting work.
"West!" Someone called my name. I stood up and whipped my head around. "Griffin!" I half-shouted. Griffin was the only other guard I knew that opposed the Timekeeper. He was constantly tired and zoning out, but he'll snap out of it if you give him a cookie.
"What do you need?" I asked.
"The Timekeeper requests the presence of all the guards." Uh-oh, I thought. The guards were only needed if there was a rebellion, a gathering... or an execution. I solemnly walked through the palace doors into the grand entrance hall. The Timekeeper, hiding his shady face in robes, was sitting on his throne against the back wall. The floors were made of marble and two grand staircases ran along the walls and upstairs. The rest of the walls were covered in shelves of clocks. Rows and rows of clocks of all shapes, sizes, colors, and designs. They ticked loudly, and I could tell all the guards in the room were trying hard not to cover their ears. I approached the half circle of guards surrounding the Timekeeper's throne. I could finally see what I hadn't seen before: An old man with gray hair and slits for eyes kneeling in the center of the circle, covering his ears. After the Timekeeper saw that all the guards were present, he stood up and approached the group.
"Clock, please," he said. Two tentative servants approached him and handed him a red alarm clock, it's hands ticking slowly. The servants retreated quickly. "This man," the Timekeeper said, gesturing to the old man in the center of the circle, "Was caught on the palace grounds without permission. Now he must pay for his crimes." The Timekeeper moved closer to the man. "Stand up!" He bellowed. The man quickly rose to his feet. Looking into his eyes, the Timekeeper said, "This is what you deserve." He rose the clock up above his and brought it down on the ground, shattering it to pieces. The man crumpled onto the marble floor, just like my parents had all those years ago. I wanted to cry out, or run to try and help him, but it was no use. The man was dead, and my identity would be discovered if I so much as said a word. The guards dispersed. Solemnly, I returned to my post. Any day now, I wanted to return to the slums to join the other Undocuments. But I knew they were counting on me to bring back important news. So I sat down on the dirt and acted like a guard.
/End\
I know that wasn't much, but I just needed to all I really needed was a little backstory of West and the Timekeeper. (And a little of Griffin, even though I feel bad using his character so much) I have a question: How far is the Undocument "hideout" or whatever from the palace? It would help if it were nearby, so West could report back every once in a while. AND also, is Griffin undocumented? Or is he just kind of non-commital? Okay I'll stop asking questions now bye.
(February 19, 2020 - 6:45 pm)
@Majestic Mary | It's fine that you used Griffin's character! You can use him as much as you intend to keep your post as you'd like it. Griffin is a very non-commited guard. He isn't a spy like West, but he treats the undocumented with respect and care for them. He'd even risk his life for one.
(February 20, 2020 - 4:33 pm)
By the way, I'll be traveling today through Sunday, and I won't be back until Sunday afternoon.
(February 21, 2020 - 7:07 am)
The hideout can be somewhere close to the palace, I was thinking in an alleyway on a hidden street?
(February 21, 2020 - 7:06 am)
(Do you want me to change anything, or is this okay? If it's not what you had in mind, it's fine!)
/Arabella\
I woke up in my tiny cell. Small rays of light shone through the cracks in the ceiling and the bars for my window. I yawned and looked at the dusty clock on my wall. 5:55. No! I had to get ready in five minutes.
At that very second a guard yells,"5 minute warning! The Timekeeper requests your presence in his office today! Be ready!"
I grabbed my wooden hairbrush with hard bristles. I combed my static, knotty hair. I pulled my long, tangled mess of hair into a pony tail. I walked over to a chest and unfolded my ripped jeans I slipped them on under my baggy shirt, which I use as my nightgown.
I'm just finishing tucking in my shirt when the guard yells, "Head down to his office! NOW!" The doors automatically open.
I head down to the Timekeeper's office, my feet stepping speedily on the cold stone. I make it to his office when everyone else does. His hood hangs over his face. He calls out names for different jobs. Luckily, today, I am not one of his personal assistances. I'm supposed to go clean his throne room until lunch. When he dismisses us with a little flick of his hand, and him saying,"go!" 2 servants and I go to his throne. I look at them, a girl a little bit older than me, and a boy in his mid-tweinties. I nodded at the girl and gave her a small smile. She smiled back. The 3 of us scrubbed the gold of his throne, being careful not to ruin the velvet cushion. We scrub the marble floor, not talking much. At noon, we head to the cafeteria for lunch. We get a burnt piece of toast, some crusty mashed potatoes, slimy green beans, old applesauce, and a glass of water. I sat down at the table next to the girl who I cleaned with.
Then I heard something. A pounding on the front entrance. The huge door opened, and a man holding a girl by the collar of her shirt trampled in. He shoved the girl forward, and she fell onto her knees. The servants peered out into the front room, also the throne room I was cleaning earlier. I looked at her freckle-y olive skin and our eyes met. Her crystal blue eyes looked fierce and determined. I knew those determined eyes.
I knew this girl. I thought this girl was dead.
This girl was Naomi Willom.
/End\
I'll post Naomi's later!
(February 21, 2020 - 5:30 pm)
Risk~
I stroll leisurely through the marketplace, gazing around for anything that catches my eye. As I go, my hand snakes in and out of pockets and bags, almost effortlessly pilfering coins, papers, anything I can. Stopping in front of a large street vendor selling an array of fruits and vegetables, I nod a greeting to the man behind the stand.
"Nice morning for a market," I say, gesturing with one hand to the surrounding crowd while the other hand drops an apple into the pocket of my jacket. "Must be getting a lot of business."
The man nods. "That's right. Been busy since I set up around dawn."
"Dawn? Wow, I guess market days must be long."
"No doubt about it."
I keep the conversation casually going, maintaining eye contact as I take what I can, hands roaming across the numerous baskets of food. After a few more minutes, I politely bid the man farewell and depart with my earnings. Walking at the same relaxed pace, I head toward the exit of the marketplace- but my heart leaps to my throat when I see a guard stationed at the main road, where people flow in and out. Wouldn't that be just my luck? I could risk it, of course, but I'm not quite in the mood to be arrested at the moment. Changing direction, I move in with a crowd of people headed across the marketground, where most of the clothing vendors are. Once I spy an alleyway that suits my needs, I move away from them. As I near the entrance to the alley, I hear a voice from behind me.
"Hey, where're you-"
I break into a run before whoever it is can finish- I know I'm fast enough to get away. After running at a sprint for a minute or two down the alley, I turn to look back over my shoulder. Seeing no one in pursuit, I slow to a jog, soon coming out of the alley onto a street with only a few people. I recognize the street, and walk down a ways, then take a left. I find myself at the edge of one of the cities slums. I don't live here- I sleep in an alleyway a few streets over, closer to where Clockwork and some of the other undocuments hide out. This slum is mainly families, with a lot of young children.
I smile at a few guys I know, a bit older than I, and they return the greeting. I'm familiar with a lot of the people who live here. Walking briskly, a stark contrast to my leisurely pace from the market, I make my rounds to the people of the slum, handing out the food and money I'd collected earlier in the afternoon. Reaching a family I know well, I hand them what I have left, an apple and a few carrots. The man and woman thank me, and their little girl squeals in excitement.
"Apple! I love apples!" I grin and lean down to ruffle her hair.
"That's right, Ara! What do you say I bring you some more apples tomorrow?" Ara beams. I walk away, heading back toward the main street. I'm still smiling as I leave the slum. Then, something stops me. Something feels off. Not quite right. As I turn my head to see if anything's amiss, I hear shouting coming from the square.
(February 22, 2020 - 5:38 pm)
(February 27, 2020 - 5:53 pm)
Let's TOP this!
(March 7, 2020 - 2:21 pm)
Let's TOP this!
(March 7, 2020 - 2:22 pm)