Starfelt

Where we can all share our PTSD and experiences we shared during nervous breakdowns. +1

Why do you bully me? Why do I bully you? Is Eric your man crush?

"Good" Sloane mumbled.

Not to sure about this. It doesn't seem to address issues we've had in the past with them.

Sloane (Do not meta this information) Nicknames/Aliases: Rin, Hadley Age: 25 Gender: Female Race: Mali'aheral/Mali'ame Status: Alive and Breathing. Weight & Height: 115 lbs, 5’7ft. Body Type: Lithe, Athletic. Eyes: Pale Green (Flecks of gold within) Hair: Ginger, Beach Waves Skin: Pale Physical Description: A smaller elven woman, with wavy ginger locks, and pale green colored eyes. Her form is thin and agile, making her quick on her feet and a great climber, however due to this she isn't quite as great at combat, at least in the normal sense. Sloane is adorned in long black robes of sorts, a bag sits upon her hip, filled to the brim with various herbs and miscellaneous items. Her shoe-ware is a pair of large, black boots. Attached to her belt at all times would be an animal skin bound book, with the head of a wolf drawn on the front in charcoal. Markings/Tattoos/Injuries: Sloane has a variety of markings over her body, the first most noticeable would be the large claw mark that makes its way down her right forearm. The scar is is wide, the skin looking as if it was reopened multiple times. She has a red runic styled tattoo upon the palm of her right hand, though the ink is faded and has a strange coloration. Upon the top of her right hand is a symbol of a snake curling around itself, it appears to have been branded into the skin quiet recently. Her left hand has a long scar running across her palm, and appears to have been reopened frequently. Along with these more recent scars/tattoos she has a few from her childhood, she has a scar upon the side of her rib-cage. She gained this scar from accidentally falling down the stairs of the home she lived within as a child, a old nail sticking out of the wood steps caused the cut. She has one other scar, which is located upon her shin, a small scar that starts at her ankle, and moves up about three inches, this was caused due to a wild dog biting her when she was playing within a farmers field. Personality: A once quiet and reserved woman who'd one would expect to find buried within a book, or lost in thought. Inventory: Sloane always carries around her animal skin book, which sits attached to her belt. The books cover is made from a mixture of various animals hides, stitched together to make a sturdy cover upon which is a head of a wolf drawn in charcoal. The side of the book has a large iron clasp that locks the book away from the prying eyes. The book brims with a strange other worldly energy.. Around her neck would hang a small moon pendant, crafted from steel. The necklace doesn't have much of a purpose, other then perhaps a past memory connected to it. Companions: Sloane's only animal companion is that of an ivory white colored snake with beady red eyes, one could assume its an albino of its kind. It goes by the name Tezellion. It's normally found resting upon Sloane's shoulders, or slithering off to cause some form of trouble. Backstory: (Working on an updated one) Life Style Alignment: A chaotic neutral character follows her whims. She is an individualist first and last. She values her own liberty but doesn't strive to protect others' freedom. She avoids authority, resents restrictions, and challenges traditions. A chaotic neutral character does not intentionally disrupt organizations as part of a campaign of anarchy. To do so, she would have to be motivated either by good (and a desire to liberate others) or evil (and a desire to make those different from herself suffer). A chaotic neutral character may be unpredictable, but her behavior is not totally random. She is not as likely to jump off a bridge as to cross it. Spouse/Love Interest: N/A Family Members: Biological Father- Mercial Zarzel (Mali'aheral)(Assumed Dead) Biological Mother- Abigail Serzent (Mali'ame)(Dead) - Adoptive Mother- Elswyen Deathsbane(Alive) Adoptive Father- Toren Camoryn(Alive) Religion: Neo-Druidism / Xionism Alliance/Nation/Home: Blackwater Titles: Sister Thistle, Prince Of Wolves Flaw(s): -Quick to blame herself -Emotionally cold at times -Hot Headed -Vindictive Roleplay Posts: A Baptism Combat Trained Weapons: None Preferred Weapons: Book Staff

-~- A scarlet-haired woman moved along the road, sighing lightly as she brushed away the damp hair that had stuck itself to her forehead. Her clothing was thoroughly drenched from the recent downpour. A man walked down the wet road, eyes to the ground though as he neared the woman he’d lift his head and stop in his tracks “Do you need help ma’m?” The woman’s eyes locked onto the man as she took a slow step towards him, nodding her head. Her left hand clutched onto a stave with a metal blade at the top. The man moved closer looking at the female with concern, though as he moved into her path the ginger woman lifted her stave and slammed it downwards into his head, effectively knocking him unconscious. The man awoke within a dusty cold attic, he was hung upside down his feet bound to a low hanging rafter. A noise echoed out from the darker side of the attic, the same woman slowly moved out of the shadows, towards him. She had removed her wet robes, and instead was dressed in a form of ritualistic clothing, her arms revealed to have various dried blood runes upon them. She withdrew a bone knife from a sheath that hung on her belt, still moving towards the man, her features solemn as she spoke “Zlirt za huk” The woman quickly slashed the bone knife along the length of the man's throat, blood pouring down his form and into a clay pot placed below him. “Ra’ ozog ruvt garn” She whispered into the man's ear as his body went limp. The woman moved the pot to the side, before removing the binds which strung the corpse up. As it hit the floor she’d grumble “Zven” in response to her words two small creatures charged up into the attic and grasped onto the hands of the corpse, tugging him along and out of the room. The woman carried the pot down into the lower portion of the home, and then down into the basement. She placed it down in a storage room before turning and moving back out of the house.. -~- The woman stood within her home a few nights later, one other figure standing next to her, however this figure looked less humanoid then the woman.. It stood feet above the woman, and had large horns. The creature simply stood there looking at her as she withdrew a large leatherbound book from one of the nearby bookcases, her hands unclipping the lock and beginning to flip through the rune covered pages. She stopped on one page, and looked up at the creature, her hand extending to gently run her digits over the skull that sat on its head. “Rozur deth” As she spoke she’d tear the page from the book, and toss it over into the fire place of the home. She removed her bone dagger from her sheath and drove it into the creatures neck, pulling it out and allowing his blood to spill across the floor of the house. The creatures body fall to the ground with a ‘thud’. She’d shut the book and place it back into the bookcase, leaning down to examine the bleeding wound of the lifeless creature, she withdrew a flask covered with red runes and filled it with the demonic blood, afterwards closing it and wandering off down to the basement. -~- The woman stood within her basement, still wearing her bloody ritualistic coverings, though she was visibly different. Her body was more frail, and she had large bags under her eyes from exhaustion. It had been a few nights now, and a storm had arrived and began to bear down upon the small swamp town. Two figures wearing similar styled robes entered the basement area, nodding their heads to the scarlet-haired woman. The woman held the pot of blood collected from the man, she turned and moved to pour it into a large body sized tub. One of the figures approached the woman and offered out the rune covered flask to her. She took ahold of it and poured a good portion of the demonic blood stored within into the pool, the blood mixture beginning to boil within the pool. She’d lift the flask to her lips and take a long drink from it, the blood staining her lips a vile crimson color. “Blood of my first Zar’ei.. A sacrifice” The woman slowly removed her clothing and lowered herself down into the boiling blood, her face twisting in pain as she held back her cries of agony. She’d lower herself until she floated within the mixture, eyes shut. The figures moved over towards the side of the pool, one holding a pot within his hands much like the one the blood was originally stored within. The other moved to place his hands on the woman's torso, pushing her down under the surface. The woman struggled against the figures force, though with time she faded away and sunk to the bottom. The other figure would nod, before moving to tip the pot he held into the pool, various snakes of differing species and sizes slithered out of the pot and into the pool, sinking beneath the surface with the woman. The pool of blood began to heat even hotter, steam rising off the surface and filling the basement with an awful scent. As she faded away a voice spoke out from the darkness. “You seek power child?” “...I do” She responded to the strange voice “Power comes at a cost” “I’m prepared to pay such.” She responded again to the voice. However as she said such she was struck with visions of a monstrous snake, that stared down at her. “So be it” The snake croaked before coiling itself around the woman. She could feel the life draining from her as she struggled to breath or move, though moments before she faded, the snake vanished and she was back within the pool, the blood no longer boiling instead it was as if it had turned to ice water. The woman lifted herself to her feet wobbling, though hissed out shortly after, her eyes snapping down to top of her right hand, a marking had been branded into the flesh, that of a snake. From the icey pool a single snake remained, it much larger than any snake originally placed into the pool,its color missing from its scales, they had now turned a ivory white color, the snake slowly made its way up to rest around her shoulders…

Sloane smiled as she heard of the news from Eileen.

This title is click bait.

I do think that changing it would help fix some of our issues. Though also I agree with Phil, there wouldn't be as much need or purpose for getting Zar'akal.