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About Indicinis

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    Newly Spawned

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  • Character Name
    Llyre Ibarii
  • Character Race
    High Elf

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  1. Indicinis

    [Denied][W] ImCookiie's Trial-GM Application !

    +1 ! Cookie made a 10/10 first impression of both the staff and game community through my application / followup message, as well as in the new player discord server. Great person, I say. (Keep up the good work :) )
  2. Indicinis

    Llyre Ibarii ?

    Thanks! ; ) Of course I applied luv. Now just gotta find my way out of the temple place, please help SOS
  3. Indicinis

    Llyre Ibarii ?

    | LLYRE IBARII | .-.-. little owl? Effeminate. Slim. 5'9'' in height; short, for a Mali'aheral. Borne in year 1532. Her garbs are simple and flowing, of light-blue robe which cast over a dress. Two necklaces adorn her neck in gold, and yet another two auric bands decor her hair. Owlish eyes, jade in hue, are set to a petite face void of blemishes. She is a true neutral, speckled with sporadic whims; whilst docile on exterior, who really knows what goes on inside that head of her's? Sometimes it seems to be filled only with fantasies of rolling moon-seas and ships; yet sometimes a downward quirk of lips betrays more somber musings. Pride will forever be her downfall- spontaneity, her double-edged sword. .-.-. Profession : Street art, apparently Residence : The Dominion Due to her natural aloofness, attempts at sharpening her physical and magical prowess has all gone to waste. However, she takes after her maln in her love of arts and music; sparse coin have been oft' made offering portraits in various streets, singing songs in temporary dwelling-grounds, writing odes. Spare time, if any, seems to have been spent indulging in novels, daydreams, readings on culture and lore of those other than her own. When she hums, she often echos the lilts of seafarers, mimics the hymns of the faithful. And when a pen is lifted in her hand, it strokes outlines of young and old, male and female, high-elf and non. She claims all are equal in her eyes- but it is hard to deny at times, the century-long conviction she held of her own racial superiority. Her travel-sack is filled with knick-knacks of arts (sketchpad, a coal-pencil, pen) along with a carved lute and spare spending-money. T'is a little known fact that the pen she cherishes so is also a dagger in disguise- not that she knows how to wield it properly. Current residency is at the apartment docks, under watch of a 'ker who goes by the name Ayche. The first-floor couch has treated her well for the past year; she shows little intention of moving out of his abode for the time being. | CONNECTIONS | .-.-. Win'taliyu, sweet haelun exiled maln no siblings It is common knowledge through those who've known Llyre and her mother that the story of the sire is something they'd rather not discuss: a tainted Mali'aheral who've fallen for the arms of a Mali'ker has little place in the pristine society of the high elves. In fact, had it not been for the dishonoring act of the maln, little owl might've as well lived forever in the boundaries of her kind instead of fleeing the nest and head towards the Dominon, seeking better chances at life. .-.-. key ❀ positive acquaintance | ❋ neutral acquaintance | ✦ negative acquaintance ツ friend | ☼ entrusted | ❤ infatuation | ☁ disliked | ♕ respected | ☊ family : acquaintances : updated 4.26.18 a gray sprite - ❋ a virarim guard (?) - ❋ ayche - ❀❤☼♕ say it galion - ❀ q. torena - ❋ ro'ya - ❋ some wood elf (portrait?) - ❋ : lover(s), past and present : none : enemies, past and present : none (I'm just really new to this community and have no friends) If she's had friends, lovers and foes during her time in Haelun'or, she has yet to speak of them during her travels. She, in fact, seldom speaks at all. A subtle wall- flower in form, this little artist hugs lone corners of bustling squares to indulge in people-watching; spurring to movement occasionally to jot down the contour of an interesting lady, the laughing face of a child, the dozing old man. | MEDIA | Tumblr ---------- WIP Playlist ------ ▶ Voice Claim - Phildel
  4. Indicinis


    | HISTORY | Year 1536: time of rampant warfare between Orenian Empire and the dwarves, just few decades before abandonment of Vailor, and inhabitance of Axior. Two elves, pale-blonde, had fallen in love; and their love, which had lasted the past century-and-thirty-three years, fruited in new life. The daughter of Win'taliyu and a cheating exile of a man, Llyre is a mali'aheral- alas, one with little ground to stand with her own kind. It is as they say, the firstborn daughter oft' takes after the father: whilst her mother is an intellect, a once-respected Maehr'sae with a handful of publications on local botany around Haelun'or, Llyre is much too often found floating her hours away in comforts of songs and drawings, daydreams- none of which have made particular contribution to the collective pool of knowledge that her people aspires to fill. Her mother- and a handful of acquaintances' - attempts to educate her in magics have been for naught. But at least she can draw. Now, if someone would only convince her to stop sketching orcs and ships, and indulge in the anatomical beauty of a mali'aheral... It's truly not a wonder, why this one gets upturnt looks and disapproving glares in the streets of Haelun'or. It's clearly not her fault, however, that she has different interests than her mother? It's not her fault that her unnamed father fell for the voluptuous curves of a passing mali'ker-- is it? Nor her fault that he was irresponsible enough to leave letters and sketches of his lover along his music sheets just year into her existence, all of which were found by her darling dearest haelun? Indecency can't be hereditary-- or could it be? Impurity is like an ink stain upon everything it touches, after all; ugly, persistent. She's so, so similar of her father, after all, with that artistic streak of her's- there's nothing that prevents others from saying that, maybe what led him awry will tug her collar that way too. The wrong path, the tainted path-- always aspiring to mingle with the lower races. After all, why would a self-respecting Mali'aheral aspire to stray far from the Silver City- and to the Dominion, of all places? But ah, here she is, year 1663, one of the many deviants of the higher elves. Packed only with a meager sack of spending-money (people pay for quick portraits? amazing!), clothes, sketch-pad and artist's tools, rumors say the effeminate Mali'aheral nears the gates of the Dominion of Malin in hopes of rekindling her life. Maybe she'll find a job. Maybe some friends. Who knows- possibilities are surely endless. | APPEARANCE (PICTORIAL) |