Volans

[Volans]

Volans Serious street cred to Laszlo, who gave Volans his awesome horns. This is not my city, this is not my world... Ethaefal. Fallen. Outsider. It doesn't matter to Volans what he's called, all that he knows is that he's not where he's supposed to be. He doesn't belong on this land. He belongs in the Ukalas, in the domain of his god Leth. But that is not where he is now. Volans fell from the sky in the cold winter of the year 510 A.V., just off the coast of a city named Nyka. Brought in by Nykan fishermen into the monk-city, Volans was regarded by equal parts suspicion and interest alike. Nowadays, Volans lives in a city that watches his every move, his every step. For he is not like them, and he knows it. Trying to make it work in a world in which he doesn't belong, Volans can only hope to one day make things right with his god, to help his fallen brothers and sisters - even in a city where one is forced to worship other gods... -Basic Information- Name: Volans Race: Ethaefal (Leth -- Vantha) Gender: Male Age: Little under a year old (53rd Winter 510 A.V.) Languages: Celestial (Fluent/Unspeakable), Common (Conversational), Vani (Broken) -Physical Description- During the Day... Under Syna's rays, Volans' form becomes more rugged and harsh, the heavenly opulence of his nightly shape fading away. He shrinks, his tall form turning into a less-than-average height. His skin darkens dramatically, becoming a burnished shade of brown that matches the violet darkness of his hair. The follicles, for their part, become a dark shade of black as well as more wavy and unrestrained. His eyes become a light shade of teal on most accounts, but being of the hearty people of the north means that his eyes can change at a whim. Reduced to a mere remnant of his ethereal form, Volans still maintains some of the unearthliness of his Ethaefal shape into that of his Vantha one, into the skin he wears by day. The shifting color of his eyes and darkness of skin make him stand out from the general Nykan populace, but it is this preternatural feel about him that makes him truly uncanny. During the Night... Volans' form becomes a scrap of what it once was in the Ukalas under Leth's blessed face. Tall and slim, his form seems to glow with a pale and faint light. His face is the epitome of classical male beauty, dark eyes and full lips rendered striking by bold cheekbones and a pointed chin. All marks and scratches fade away, leaving nothing behind but pure, untouched skin. Horns elegantly descend from his temples back against the back of his head, their color as well as that of his hair changing with the seasons. Right now, his horns are transitioning into a subtle shade of purple, his hair into a snowy white. While his nighttime splendor awes all that manage to catch a glimpse of him during those dark hours, this form does not please Volans. It is but a fraction of the divine form he held in the Ukalas, and to see himself in it only brings back more pain and longing. By far he prefers the form of his daytime persona, as it holds no painful memories - at least not any that he can remember. -Mental Description- To the very fiber of Volans' being, he is a believer. Believer in friends, god, you name it. His trust doesn't come easy, but when it does, it comes fully. It doesn't matter what you've done in this life or the past, if you manage to win over Volans, he will always trust and believe in you. Such is his nature. But don't let this make you think he always believe every word you say. Naive he is not. Volans also tends not to care what others think. If he goes against the crowd, so be it. If he goes with it, that's fine as well. Either way is fine with him, as long as it's the side that believes in he believes. Once a friendly, happy person always ready to share a drink with a stranger ( in his most recent life, anyways), loss and sorrow have closeted off Volans and his feelings. He is less apt to drink with anyone at all, instead preferring to sit with himself and himself only. The world doesn't understand the loss he has suffered, nor will they ever. Only other Ethaefal can truly sympathize with what Volans is feeling - and they tend to be few in a city like Nyka. Anger has become increasingly frequent in this once-peaceful soul. Even though he isn't the most social person in Mizahar, Volans love to help people out. Always has, and always will. That is partially why he is a fortuneteller - it is to help others in their lives in whatever way he can (in this case, by telling them of what's to come). He is always willing, no matter the circumstances, to come to the aid of someone who truly needs it.

[Volans]

-History- Volans remembers little before the fall. The Ukalas is but a faint memory of moonbeams and heavenly splendor, and the life he lived before that is fragments. Every now and again, Volans receives static images of the man whose form he wears by day, subtle clues that arrive in the form of dreams. But they are little more than enticing clues; a palace of ice here, the moon over a field of frozen water there, the image of a beautiful woman with changing eyes. It means so much to him, and yet Volans cannot understand what they mean. Approximately a year ago, Volans fell from the heavens to the waters of Sylira, landing in the watery grave around Nyka. He would have died there too, overcome by shock and disbelief, if not for the man who pulled him on his boat and took Volans to the monk-city. Those first weeks were bathed in sorrow and anguish. The god who'd he lost came to console him, and in Leth's appearance, Volans drew strength. He didn't know what it was, but he'd been sent here for a reason. Driven away from all he loved for some divine purpose. Volans didn't know what that is, but he is trying to find out. But his faith must remain hidden. The people of Nyka worship other gods; four Alvina that walk among them like mortals. Volans must shield his faith from them, but they know he is different. An outsider. Not one to be trusted. But Volans can live with that...and so he has been doing, for the last couple of months back on the land of Mizahar. Because he know he has a higher calling...to serve the moon god and his lover in both this life and the next. Moonlit Whispers : The night was alive with voices of the those he had lost, or at least so it seemed to the broken young man. They came from all directions, ceasing only to allow another voice to speak. They spoke of things, things that the young man could not put into words but dreadful things nonetheless. They were describing that which he had lost, and it pained him to hear it. His back was to a forbidding stone wall, his pale and broken form lying limp across hard wooden floor. Three days. That's how long it took. Three days since he had fallen, and the pain of the paradise he had fallen away from was just starting to kick. Porcelain tears studded his unnaturally beautiful face. Convulsions came every now and again to conjure up more of them. His mind was wracked by the things he had seen, the things he had felt. He could still remember the feeling of descent, the hard slap of the water as it embraced him. Then, the pain had seemed numb, as though he hadn't had time to compute what had truly happened. When the man had pulled him from the cruel waves, he'd been as limp as a rag, still overcome with shock and disbelief. He hadn't the strength to move, not even with the man shuttled him into that broken-down house on the beach where the figure dressed in priestly robes has inspected him. Where he had been pronounced alive and given a warm robe to wear, which he had clutched as if his life had depended on it. Three days. A walking state of unawareness, something akin to what foul Uldr might have stirred up. That's what it had been like, when he'd been gently prodded to take the room in which he sat now. The sign he had passed as they helped him through the door - Safehaven Hostel. He remembered that, all right. He remembered everything that had happened in those painful sixty-four chimes, eight bells. The memories from before that - the days in which he'd danced with a god and slept on a bed of moonbeams - those were harder to remember. They were fading away. And that was all the harder to bear. Another convulsion gripped him, and the young man felt like he wanted to scream. To tear his skin apart, the vile effigy of what he had lost. That shadow of what he had been in heaven. He just wanted to give in to the rage and the pain and the sorrow and just engulf the world in his insanity... "Mad, isn't it? The feeling of savageness, of becoming feral." The voice that spoke now hushed all others, a low and deep murmur that seemed filled with a sadness reflecting his own. It seemed more real than the others. More...alive. A sharp gasp escaped marble lips and he frantically turned his head, just in time to see the shadowed man approach. Little could be made of his figure besides his face, seemingly cloaked in shadow. By contrast, his head glowed with a silvery light, playing in and out of the black, curly locks and the dark eyes, which seemed filled with a bestiality only waiting for it's moment to be released. Yet, sorrow carved into his face quietened the fire in his eyes. "You..." The young man whispered, voice dull from misuse. "Yes, my child. It is me." "I...you...how could you let this happen to me?" The sorrow on Leth's face become even more pronounced. "I never wished for this to happen. I never wanted to see you or your brothers and sisters slip away from me. This was never my intention." The young man's face was a study in anguish. "But how? Why? Why me?!" The god bent down to his fallen son. "I do not know." He whispered. "The workings of Lhex escape even ones such as I." He collapsed back, despair once again engulfing his tender frame. There were no more tears this time. Just a deadened look of silently increasing anguish in his eyes. "But do not fear, my son. For I watch out for my kin." The god's words seemed stronger, more powerful, and the young man turned his head once more. A kindly look was on the beast god's face, and the silvery aura seemed to grow. It infused the young man, filling him with a resolve that kept the pain at bay. Pushed it back, made it retreat. It didn't go away completely...but no longer did he wallow in the throes of torment. "Now stand up, my child." Leth commanded, and his follower obeyed. "I do not know why Lhex has taken you from me, but I know that you will live in my name and do my work while you live on this world, correct?" A whisper still, but a more reinforced one now. "...Of course. Always." A pause, and then the beast god nodded his approval. "Then go out and use my gift to spread my influence, wherever and however you can. Take the gift I have given you and use it to help this world and all others. To help your brothers and sisters. That is all I may do for you, now. Well, actually - there is one last piece of advice I have for you." A fierce smile claimed the entirety of the moon god's face. "And it is this: don't ever again be afraid of change, dear Volans." The ethaefal looked up, smiled a grin as wild as his master. "Yes, my lord," Volans said, "Never again."

[Volans]

-Skills, Gnosis, Lore- Skills: Fortunetelling | 26 pts. | SP, * Storytelling | 14 pts. | SP Astrology | 10 pts. | RB Brawling | 5 pts. | SP Stealth | 5 pts. | SP Running | 1 pt. | * Investigation | +1 pt. | * Rhetoric | +1 pt. | * Astronomy | +1 pt. | * Gnosis: Telepathy (First Mark of Leth) - After an encounter with Leth three days after his fall, Volans now possesses the first Mark of Leth, with the stipulation to use it to help his fellow brothers and sisters of the fallen. It allows him to read and communicate with other minds. [Not Written Up Yet -- HD Permission] Lore: Lore of Leth Lore of Nykan Customs and Rules Wheatwhip Wounds Location: the Nine Staves The Ace of Pentacles A Fragmented Future The In-Between An Exception to Prejudice The Volans Constellation Location: The Safe Havel Hostel Street Plan: the Celestial Square -Belongings & Housing- Belongings: 1 Set of Clothing (cloak/coat & footwear included) | SP 1 Waterskin | SP 1 Holy Symbol, Gold | Heirloom 1 Backpack which contains: | SP 1 Set of Toiletries (comb, brush, razor, soap) | SP Food for a week | SP 1 eating knife | SP Flint & Steel | SP Tarot Deck | Purchased Heirloom: A golden holy symbol of Leth, it was brought into Nyka by a foolish merchant peddling religious gear. Volans managed to get his hands on the symbol before the merchant was kicked out of the city, and now keeps it hidden in his room in the Safehaven Hostel. Housing: As of the moment, Volans lives in The Nine Staves, where he occupies one of the bedrooms.

[Volans]

-Ledger- Credit Debit Amount Reason +100 gm -- 100 gm Starting Package +100 Laat -100 gm 100 Laat Exchanged Money -- -10 Laat 90 Laat Purchased Tarot Deck -- -45 Laat 45 Laat Winter Living Expenses -- -- 45 Laat Amount Left -Active Thread List- Dreamscapes Spring 512 A.V. - Gardens Under Ice. [Albireo] Winter 511 23rd Winter 511 A.V. - Ruckus [Open] 90th Winter 511 A.V. - I've found the Ukalas! [Lucas Arias] Spring 512 1st Spring 512 A.V. - Refuge [Closed] 8th Spring 512 A.V. - Fall Away [Natalia] abandoned 60th Spring 512 A.V. - The Fool [Hadrian] Archived Threads (by date of completion) : 16th Winter 511 A.V. - The Alternative [Liar] 9th Winter 511 A.V. - Somewhere I Belong [Open]