Canon Families

Willowfrost, herd of the forest
Beliefs & trends:  The living fairytale.  A grand fable of ambition, lies and greed.  The matron plays the family like little marionette's upon her gore-stained stage; surrender and live, listen and thrive.  Fear courses through their veins from the ice of her stare, the hard gaze settling into their very soul.  Yet, they stay, their loyalty unfathomable to a woman so cruel.  She who must be obeyed. 
 
Known Members: 
Valifyr Areon.  Father of the newborn.  King of the Forest.  4 years old.  - Claimed by Tempest
Herne. Father of the yearlings. Gaean hermit. 6 years old. - Claimed by Tressan
Kriemhild Willowfrost.  Mother.  Dark matron.  3 years old.  - Claimed by Jahi
Fleur Willowfrost.  Daughter.  Thorn princess.  1 year old. - Claimed by Plymouth
Unknown Willowfrost.  Son.  Forest prince.  1 year old.
Unknown Willowfrost.  Daughter.  Little damsel.  Unborn. - Claimed by Kat
Unknown Willowfrost.  Mothers sibling.  Spirit of envy.  3 years old.


Emmon, herd of the mountains
Beliefs & trends:  Sparta incarnate.  They work on equal footing to ensure the family's survival and do what they feel is in the family's best interest.  They are a symbol of unity and strength, a collection of names that aspire to better themselves for the sake of survival.  Strength and power are equally treasured in a home where weakness is the thin thread between life and death.

Known Members:
Siberna Spirre.  Father.  King of the mountain.  4 years old.  - Claimed by Lash
Unknown Emmon.  Mother.  Kindred heart.  4 years old.  
Unknown Emmon.  Son.  Fathers strength.  1 year old.
Unknown Emmon.  Daughter.  Mothers beauty.  1 year old.  
Unknown Emmon.  Mothers sibling.  Amazonian queen.  3 years old.
Unknown Emmon. Aunt's child. Battle princess. Newborn.
Unknown Spirre.  Fathers sibling.  Ambitious wit.  4 years old.


Applications

Code:

[b]OOC Name:[/b]
[b]Desired Character:[/b]
[b]Character's Name:[/b]
[b]Character's Personality:[/b]
[b]Role-play Sample:[/b]

OOC Name: Plymouth
Desired Character: The Thorn Princess
Character's Name: Fleur Willowfrost
Character's Personality: Like mother like daughter there is cruelty in those deep green eyes, in that cold heart. She only cares about herself and the only love she really has is for her own happiness and well-being. The only thing that is higher above her own happiness is the fear she holds for her mother. The matriarch of the herd has a gaze like ice and whenever she tries to hold it she finds herself looking away. Though she is ambitious and wants power herself she knows better than to challenge her... for now.

Strength can be fleeting but intelligence and imagination... That is what will get you far. Manipulation, mind games, she is no exception to the reputation her herd as built up. She is young now but it is in her eyes, a patience and a cunning that might get her far when she's older and has honed her craft. For now loyalty and fear to her family keeps her in line. With that fear is also grudging admiration. Her mother holds all power and she wants to be like that one day, to evoke fear with just a glance and have all control of numerous others.

To others she is fairly charming, knowing how to keep appearances and knowing all too well that it's easier to get others on your side with sweetness than vinegar. Her voice is calm and pleasant, soft like a sweet wind but can take to an annoying pitch when she isn't getting her way. The princess of thorn is used to getting her way with those that she considers beneath her and when they don't play as she wants then she tends to show a brattier side.

Role-play Sample:

Long still legs carried the older fawn across the frozen place, over pine needles and around chilled bushes of her home. It was a cold, lonely place where the bitterest of hearts roamed but here was her home. It was where she called home and where she wouldn't leave for the world. Not unless her mother ordered it and who ever heard of a female Willowfrost leaving? It was absurd! And yet, in her childish mind she could imagine leading her own little herd of deer to glory. Her own little sect of Willowfrost...

A limb cracked to her left, causing her to nearly jump out of her fur. Fortunately, it was simply a small hare that wandered out of hiding. For a moment she had been frightened that it was her mother... Her mother that could not read thoughts but with that icy glare and how she had a penchant for controlling her children. To be thinking such blasphemous thoughts was almost as bad as saying them out loud. She gulped and continued on her way, eyes lowering to the ground as she continued her ruminating. That one thought flitted at the edge of her thoughts, she didn't want to continue to entertain it but it was always there. Ambition. It was a part of her being and she wanted to fuel the fire. Her head shook, it was alright... She was a young one yet and there was plenty of time to build herself up. For now maybe she could get by doing something else.

Perhaps watching the Regent or the Lookouts. It wasn't as glorious as actually leading a herd but it was a close second and maybe something she could look forward to. A true job for a princess... Yes, that's what she would do today! A velvety smile curled at the edge of her lips as she skipped forward, happy as a lark to have found something worth while to be doing. Perhaps her mother would even be pleased that she was trying to learn, oh yes! Maybe she'd even be rewarded with getting to bark out a few orders to the underlings! What fun that would be!

She's all yours, Plymouth <3

I can't wait to see her in action.

OOC Name:  Lashes
Desired Character:  Emmon Stag, King of the Mountain
Character's Name: Siberna Ty Emmon

Character's Personality:

Summer Borne; at six months he was sent to spend the season winter mountain depths alone.  Returned in Rut and battled for title of the herd, and to earn the respect of the lead doe. Successful in his endevours, the lead doe permitted his rise to the mantle of King with gust and pride.  Nourishing fawns and does to embrace their complete greatness, through the heavy handed touch of a stern mentor.  No fallacy escapes him.  No slight goes over his antlers. He is aware of all efforts endured by his herd.



He broods, an observant man, a beast of purpose and communal burdens.  He does not disengage unless it is strategic to do so. A gifted tactician has provided his success through three Ruts, storms, and imposing herds competeting for space and resources.  All fawns and does endure matches to practice skills of combat.  They endure weekly rituals lasting through the night, studying the stars and communing with Eidolon, seeking to earn favor in any future visitations to the shrine.



He both fears and respects the Rut, for the take over of his mind is a powerful toxin that one must learn not to fight.  Through his years, Sibe has developed a method of peaceful submission, and in this has found the madness bearable, and likewise manageable.  He aims to discover a way to completely control the power and fury of his Rut and channel it into magicks or battle.  These desires are ones he intends to carry to the Shrine, and seek favor with the Deity himself.  All he expects of the herd is what he expects of himself; his failure is to shame their belief in him.  This emblazened sense of duty is the keystone of his foundation.  What permits him to stand over the conquored on the ridge of a blood-red dawn.


Passion cannot be hidden from his emerald eyes.  Emotions displayed, even as they are restrained from action, upon the handsome contours of his face.  A doting father, a consuming lover, a valient fighter, the evidence of his mettle, his heart and soul, is consistently displayed as banner in his actions.  Respect of him is borne by his action.



Role-play Sample:

Withers quivered.  Flies buzzed and repositioned themselves on his tail.  Nostrils flared, emerald eyes narrowing as morning mist continued to roll down the valley.  The sun peaked over the ridge.  Pink violet skies promised a bright, beautiful day.  Ears lifted, brushing ivy hanging from his antlers.  Gaze caught motion.  Siberna heaved a quiet sigh, mild annoyance tinging his warm breath.

The fawns attempted to go unnoticed, following the grey mist into the valley forest.  He observed their descent with a disapproving frown, and considered his options.  They were, after all, fawns.  Restless, wild, in need of adventure, of pressing their limits against the obvious safety of their home. As if Sibe didn't remind them of the coming struggles enough. As if he did not require their boxing, their schooling of logics, of herbology, of heavenly predictions and the practical applications.  He grit his teeth and sighed.

They would not see the importance of these matters until after maturity.  For now, imagination ruled their play, and down the mountain they ran, careless of who followed.

He did.  A shadow guarding their bounding leaps across creeks from the sights of enemies.  He decided against chastising them for their disregard of boundaries, and instead allowed himself the momentary joy of observing their play in solitude. Only when the sun rose over the trees did they realize their mistake, hours passing since they left the sleeping safety of their mother's sides.  Siberna trailed as they sprinted up mountain sides, ducking behind trees and stones as if they were undetected thus far.  Siberna smirked.  Returned to his original vantage point with certain steps.  Assured in their safety, he turned westward and begun his daily patrol.

The Emmon stag's surname is technically Spirre! If you're ok with that, he's all yours <3

!!!!!

OOC Name: Misko.
Desired Character: Kindred heart.
Character's Name: Antares Emmon.
Character's Personality:

Filled with want; she is not the forsaken, jagged shoreline, but the undertow that bears the hapless towards it—unpolished, unmanned. Perhaps, better spoken a lonely mountain. Bidden less by impulse than defined thought. She is generous, however at times clumsy in her attempts to give. Too much of herself; with equitability within mind. It has made her a palatable leader; with her eagerness to please. She is a brooding thing, because of it. She has little time to suffer second-guesses and doubt, and yet it still hangs heavy upon her shoulders. A serious individual, she had long before abandoned whim and gave herself to introspection and politic.

Therein still lies habits of being incredibly haphazard, and unguided. There is little rhyme or reason behind the reach of her discriminations. Each slight against her met with varying regard and action. Most of her decisions is bent by whim of the moment. Yet, tyrannous wrath is steeped in the marrow, and it lies in the withering emerald of her dark stare (eyes like a hunger pain, wretched and writhing). Mostly unforgiving of slight or folly. Brutish in the delivery of retribution, diplomacy at times escapes her. Not one for the paltry spread of chatter, but action. Her words are oft commanding, an illustration of her inaptitude for being a kept creature. A fervent thing, she breathes ardor and her words carry might.

Caught in reservation, she can be seen as independent creature, she is ever prideful. Bravado lingers in the downturned corners of her mouth, in the glint of her stare. Aloof – she cares not for popularity, and often languishes in the company of a crowd; preferring quieter and private exchange of words. Even in her youth, she could be described as a sullen child in public gatherings. It is worth noting that violence is against her nature. Aggression carries only in the heft of her words and political schemes of the mind; not in taking up a blade –though there comes no fear in meeting necessity. A studious and industrious queen, she takes to tasks beyond her comfort with relish. It is, after all, her duty to do so.

Role-play Sample:

Antares had rose with the sun – a common happenstance, for those who were aware of their Queen’s habits. It had been a sleepless night, but the twilit matriarch was never one to break habit. She rose from the cavernous hall she’d long before chosen to haunt, and stepped out into the cool dawn. Immediately, the stark air greeted the supple flesh of her mouth, nipping at the tenderness of her nose and ears. Its familiar embrace elicited a rare smile from her stony lips, marking the very relief that bloomed in her heart. Warmth – that was precisely the feeling that emanated from within, as though the rosy glow of early morn was there at her whim. There, if only, to chase the shadows of nightmare from a beclouded mind. As the gild of the sun began to devour what was left of night, sleep dropped from her weary eyes.

Alert, and keen: she was ready to meet duty as heavy as her bones felt. They were robbed of their slumber, and her body yearned to retreat back into the cool, darkness of her hearth. Immediately, thoughts of the day spread before her – the borders beckoned, her child required education, kin would need attention. The dream, however, the very same that had her so rattled, haunted the glow of wakefulness. It harried at the edges of her mind, and darkness worked to befall her heart. A dark hound, it would follow each step she took in her descent into more common areas for gathering. It held her, tightly at the throat – as though one misstep would slake its thirst and demand for discord.

She never sought the company of others, though in that moment found herself distinctly yearning for it. A distraction from this ill host of grim – that was what she’d need. It was quick, the decision and though filled with art and grace, she moved quickly to see if luck was on her side; quickly, to join the first face Antares could cross and with great hope it would be what the heart needed.

She's all yours! <3

EEE! Thank you. <3