Snowblind Moderators (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
snowblindmods) wrote2015-04-06 10:43 pm
snowblindmods) wrote2015-04-06 10:43 pm
Application
| Application | |||
Applications are closed permanently. Thank you to everyone who has applied over the years! Before applying for a character, make sure you've read the rules and FAQ. You should also refer to the application guide to see what we're looking for in our applications. You may apply for one character per application cycle and three characters total. Please put your character's name and canon in the subject line of your application comment. Applications must be posted directly to this post and cannot be links. We will screen your application if you request it of us after we review it. Application challenges are allowed, but someone who did not place a reserve challenge cannot challenge a reserved application. Once reservations expire, an application challenge can only be placed before we process the character application of the applicant you would like to challenge. In the event of us nearing our application cap and having more applications than slots, we will attempt to choose the most well-written applications. First-time applicants will be processed first, then applications for second characters, and finally applications for third characters. We may allow more applications to be submitted than we have slots for in the name of greater selection. We will clarify in our response if an application is not being allowed into the game because of the cap or because of issues with the application not meeting the standards of the game. Original Character Application | |||
Lutha Pahr | OC | Reserved (1/4)
Name: Nik
Age: 25
Contact Info:
Other Characters: Luna | Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward |
Lutha Pahr | OC | Reserved (2/4)
Name: Elutherius "Lutha" Pahr IV
Canon: Original Canon
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Inventory:
- Outfit, which includes a long-sleeved tunic, trousers, leather boots, one wrist-length glove (right-handed), one leather belt with metal clasps, an orange striped sash and several small pouches for currency and other small items
- A well-used handgun with a long black barrel (will be taken)
- Thirteen bullets (will be taken)
- One small obsidian knife (will be taken)
- Leather handgun holster
- One empty leather waterskin
- A small black pouch with four 6-sided dice, made of bone
- The crumpled remains of an official notice announcing the death of Lady Lorraine, the name of her widower (Lord Eamraig of the Council of Ordo), and requests for which shrines to pray at for the passing soul's peace
- Ten copper coins
- A string of crudely carved wooden beads
- One set of cotton bandages, currently in use around what remains of his left forearm
World Description:
The world once was a peaceful place. Though primitive in its technology, the lands flourished with six races of creatures, all gifted with life and curiosity and the urge to explore their world. Standing at the pillars of this prosperity were the Six Deities, silent watchers who favored and blessed their individual races of choice, each in control of one part of the vital elemental flows of life. Though life presented wars of ideals and progress among the races, the Deities reliably shifted the balance as needed, overseeing the constant progression of civilization and the progression of their blessed world.
With the high position of the Deities in the balance of life, many races considered them as religious figureheads; devout clans began building temples and monasteries in their honor, praying vigilantly in wait of their constant blessing, and craving to understand their gods more so that they may please them. It was these clans that discovered magic - a creature's born ability to tap into the elemental flows - which quickly started what would be the destruction of the world.
The discovery of magic was first hailed as a sign of religious triumph. Hundreds of thousands sought to learn, but all had their reasons. What started as meditation and awareness morphed into the study of spells, enchantments, and power of will - how far could one push their mortal body against the natural flow of the earth, and what miraculous things could one accomplish? Some claimed it might be immortality, others an omniscient wisdom, while others simply saw chances for new power.
Conflicts soon arose with magic at the forefront of the battles. Power among the races shifted dramatically as militarized victories brought greater tolls on beings and land alike. The Deities, sensing the dangerous shift taking place in the people they so loved, began to lessen their blessings, to which the races only amplified their magical attempts. What delicate balance that the Deities had been carrying for millennia started to crack. For the first time, the earth itself began to fight back. Floods and earthquakes and monsoons all began to chip away at the peace that the world had otherwise taken for granted. In their distress, the beings of the world split into two categories - those that blamed the deities for the war and destruction, and those that saw them as a sign of horrible things to come.
The bloody war that followed between those two factions lasted only ten years, but in its fury, the conflict snapped the balance of magical power, claiming the life of the Deity of the seas. With the absence of her presence and blessings, her race of choice - the Ethra - were brought to a quick extinction. In their anger, the remaining deities cut off their blessings completely from the races of the world, retreating to a spiritual solitude where they continued to struggle for the balance of their world, now amplified with the loss of one of their own.
It has been one thousand years since the extinction of the Ethra.
With the loss of the Deity of Water, the elements wreaked havoc in an attempt to restore that which no longer existed. All but the most spiritual centers of water turned to acid. Precipitation began to destroy both man and beast and plant alike. Tides rose permanently, flooding entire continents, wiping out millions of the world's population along with much of the records of the Deities' struggles, and isolating those that remained on islandic nations.
The five races that remained quickly established arms of power based on remaining populations and resources. Orcs still controlled much of the military strength by pure numbers and soon crowned a king over the wasteland. Humans, while frailer and more damaged by the wars, held the high ground on trade, farming, and the dwindling state of economy. Prominent families with ties to the Orc monarchy soon found themselves pulled into nobility for the sake of the survival of what life remained. Wyverns, though scarce, were seen as the last creatures with any kind of religious touch and often controlled the few shrines and monasteries left. Goblins became the craftsmen, archaeologists and scavengers, eagerly trying to both keep the present liveable and regain what history was being lost. Lastly, on the very bottom of the social structure were the Elves; once the most magically attuned creatures, the race was now considered frail and purposeless, lacking the boldness and power that other races presented. Though not driven to extinction like their Ethra brethren, Elves were now often left to rot on the streets, serving as prostitutes, sent into slavery or used as carriers for the drug trade.
The city of Ordo, built around the holiest of lakes, has been transformed into the world's capital nightmare, providing what little supplies of food and water remain and acting as a hub of trade and politics. Those in high social, political, economical, or religious standing are treated to a life of luxury, spending their time for the people and wanting for nothing in return for their service. From there, the classes dramatically fall. Most everyone else stationed around the capital live among decaying rubble, makeshift villages or nomadic travelling groups. Food is a precious resource, water even more so, and the world becomes a violent and dangerous place to exist for the unlucky and faint-hearted. And most importantly, the history of the deities has been completely lost to the passing of generations, all but a select few still knowing what a dangerous precipice their world now hung upon.
In an attempt to regain the mythical use of "magic", a process was found to powder acidic tree bark that, when mixed with blood, became a powerful drug the color of the night sky. This "black sugar" granted tranquility, confidence, and what some claimed could help one see and speak to the spirits themselves. Because of how overwhelmingly easy it was to make, the drug trade took hold of the slums of the capital and quickly grew out of control. Even those in nobility found themselves wound up in the mess, easily pumping Black Sugar powder into the bloodstreams of slaves to use as walking bargain chips. To die from the drug is commonplace, either in overdosing attempts to see their gods, or through the blatant draining of blood and discarding of the corpses that remained. Despite its corruption, the nobility do not move to stop it so long as it does not interfere with their lives. In contrast, the common people grow to fear it, even for the money or supplies it might bring to sell one's self to the trade. Becoming a slave quickly means surrendering to the very real possibility of death.
Lutha Pahr | OC | Reserved (3/4)
Elutherius was born the eldest child and only son of a high-standing human family in the capital of Ordo. His father, a strict and unforgiving man, stood as a Lord and one of the key heads of distribution for goods on the Council of Elders. It was by his hand that the lesser races kept themselves alive, and likewise, how many could die if his control and will were not precise among a company of Orcs. The Lord's wife, a gentle and frivolous soul, was a nonexistent presence built completely for appearances. What times she spent with her children were to adjust clothing and hair and mannerisms, offering only glancing platitudes to soothe the often fiery words their father had towards them.
As the eldest, Lutha was told from birth that he was of a chosen few. Everything in the grasp of a noble's life, down to the smallest detail, was a birthright handed to him by the spirits themselves. This demanded a delicate but severe balance of disciplines to keep a young mind in check - branding, scarring, and mutilation of body parts were commonplace throughout the noble quarters. But despite this, Lutha never found himself questioning his place. He was educated in language, numbers, and the expansive history of both Orc and Man, learning that all other races fell below in a natural, pitiful pattern. Unable to leave the noble quarter without punishment for endangering himself, the boy took up the handgun, often climbing up onto high windowsills just to shoot passing birds. During the nights he would descent to the basements of the castles to taunt the prisoners and slaves, finding that a hatred of his status was common place. When his father berated him for his actions or attitude, Lutha only doubled his cruelty, finding a rush in how he could make someone into little more than an object with his words. The only person who escaped his anger was his younger sister, Tabitha, who was much kinder and more compassionate in heart than he felt he could ever be, garnishing a strong desire for Lutha to protect her.
It was she that lead Lutha to a breaking point. While aware of the drug trade, the young nobles were often kept far enough from the raw details to establish a level of comfort. After his tenth birthday, while searching for his sister in their home, Lutha managed to eavesdrop on a Black Sugar deal between his father and couriers for the king himself. There he discovered that, rather than a slave, it was his young sister being offered as a drugged boy, already half-dead where she lay on the trading table. Rage brought Lutha to try and intercept the meeting. When guards were unsuccessful in restraining the child, Lutha's father pulled a gun on his son, barely missing Lutha's head but successfully ripping the hearing from his left ear. After a significant struggle, he escaped, fleeing the noble's quarters and tumbling into the rotting sewers of the city below.
It was an old goblin scavenger who found him hiding in the refuse, dragging him to his feet and requesting for him to perform a task if he wished for a meal. At first, the boy blatantly refused, cursing and spitting and keeping up his refusal for many days. It was only when he no longer could walk from his starvation that he finally begged to the goblin to perform their task, the thought of death too close in his mind. The scavenger agreed, on one condition: for to boy to never beg for his life again.
That scavenger took Lutha under their wing for the next eight years; they gave him his basics, instructed him on where to find work, and kept him appropriately hidden from the guards that would search for him. His handgun now his one true companion, he practiced with it religiously, quickly swearing he would use it one day to blow his own father's head off his shoulders. He learned to overcompensate for his deafness with quick reflexes and a sharp tongue, earning the attention of traders who needed errand boys or item runners. Jobs stretched across cities and islands, Lutha finding a knack for the business of a hard bargain, keeping on his feet and staying on the run while performing for the highest bidders. All the while, the goblin drilled the laws of his new world into his head: Should he want to never go back to where he came from, then the decisions he must make in what horribly cruel world awaited him should define that. Don't accept what you cannot earn. Death is unkind and those that say they are for the people are unkinder - you are left on your own. The nobles do not care for their people, and the people could care even less for their nobles - titles mean nothing to the common man. Do not trust easily, and do not extend a hand if it means you will not survive in turn.
It was a mantra - enough to keep him moving and surviving to his next morning, establishing himself only to stay alive and wait for his chance, stewing in the resentment that fueled him to one day storm the holiest of noble quarters and take his father's life.
It was on one run that he was interrupted, demonic creatures appearing and causing havoc in an otherwise peaceful village. One of the only beings properly armed, Lutha begrudgingly joined in combat long enough to see the people evacuated, only to see his client ripped open and devoured by one of the beasts. Angered, Lutha released his temper on his fellow fighers, to which most reacted as he expected. Only one in particular, a conman by the name of Alfonso, remained unmoved by his outbursts, even going so far as promises to make amends, should Lutha allow him to. After a night of relentless asking, Lutha agreed.
The group soon discovered that all who fought had been tagged by a spiritual marker, something that the lone Wyvern of their group explained must be a curse from the gods. He warned that creatures like that would only increase in size and number, and that if it had something to do with them, then it was their responsibility to discover why they had been marked and what the gods would want from them. Though Lutha highly protested the entire story as a facade, stating his outright refusal to travel in a group with a full-blooded elf as a peer and even going so far as to completely abandon the group to return on his own, it took only one ambush of demonic monsters for him to reconsider just how deeply this encounter may have affected him.
Their journey dragged them across all of what remains of the islands, to ruins and temples and libraries in an attempt to learn what had happened to their world and how to keep it from crumbling to complete nonexistence. They learned of the deities, of their previous roles, and of a catastrophe that had happened long ago. All the while, Lutha struggled, actively grinding against the party in his initial discomfort, especially towards the elf. Aloof, uncaring, and even resorting to betrayal for the sake of not finding himself in prison, Lutha's selfish attitude was often addressed with resentment and conflict. But while Lutha impatiently waited for them to grow too frustrated and let him leave, he found himself still being dragged along. Despite how often and how hard he bit back, slowly and surely he began weaving connections.
Out of the entire group, Lutha found himself begrudgingly attaching to Alfonso, the man who made a promise to him from the start. Like a plague, the conman latched onto Lutha from the first day of their journey, subtly but consistently attempting to establish a connection despite how Lutha so often clamped down and refused to talk. They argued constantly, giving way to one another as Alfonso ripped Lutha open bit by bit with his own words, leaving him vulnerable and lashing out further, often to the expense of the rest of the party. Only as Lutha's personal window of freedom started to contract under the suspicion of patrols and noblemen did he find himself opening up willingly to Alfonso: finally speaking of his sister and her death, the anger at his father, the hatred he held towards an unforgiving world. Alfonso did not agree, but claimed he did not need to - one's experiences formed ones path, and that all one could do was take advantage of the help along the way. A bond quickly started to develop between the two.
Though minor strides were made, Lutha's elusive behavior toward the party continued to a breaking point, a couple of his companions more than eager to rip his tongue from his throat. One set of ruins, set across swamps to the north, would prove as the most dangerous of terrains to cross due to how quickly the acidic waters could kill a man. While the group debated on the best course of action, Lutha gave into heated impatience and went ahead on his own. Determined to prove the waste of time in the group efforts, Lutha struggled through, ultimately mistiming one that sends him straight into the waters of the swamp, burning through fabric and flesh alike up to his neck and chin. Even as his pursuing teammates found him and drug him out to dry ground, lack of a way to rinse him off left him quickly rushing towards death.
It was the elf who ultimately surrendered what little resources and time they had, risking her own well being in attempt to cast a healing spell and keep Lutha alive - a sentiment that he could not argue with despite how it disgusted him. Left to a sea of only his thoughts and endless pain, Lutha was brought to a proper healer, who stated that he would have been dead long ago without the actions of the elf at his side. Between the event and the disfiguring it caused him, Lutha now struggled with the rigidity of his own viewpoint for the first time, seeing differences as something more but still violently wishing not to acknowledge them. To acknowledge difference here, after all, meant he might have to do it elsewhere, and there were things he knew he could not budge on. Constant pain from scar tissue left him reliant on those around him more than was comfortable, but his verbal blows started to soften as his ability to trust in his group as a whole finally started to manifest.
After his full revival, Lutha was once again recognized, handed a notice by a passing troop of guards that states the recent death of his mother. Though his composure didn't break, the purpose of the standoff never escaped him. With his urgent goading, the party was forced to flee once more, Lutha resorting to holding a boatman at gunpoint to get them from the soldiers as fast as possible. But the inevitability of capture quickly approached. Their boat surrounded, everyone on board now threatened to be killed for numerous counts of trespassing and theft, Lutha finally acted against every betrayal he had led his party through to that moment, steeling himself and openly surrendering to allow the rest of those on board to flee. The decision was accepted with reluctance, Alfonso swearing in whispered tones that they would come to rescue him.
All the way back to Ordo he went, bound and shackled and inwardly conflicted. But for the first time in months, he finally had his sights on what he'd been starving for for a very long time - a chance at confrontation with his father. In concordance with the laws of his birthright, he was dragged into the castle courtyard, where his entire left hand was mercilessly hacked off. Through his pain, he was told he would be bandaged and brought to his father, who would decide what would become of his life. It became one more thing his life, his birthright, and his father had stolen from him. Perhaps this one fateful moment would be his final chance to quell eight years of hate.
Canon Point: After his intentional capture, returning to the capital and having his left hand amputated.
Lutha Pahr | OC | Reserved (4/4)
Much of what Lutha feels and does comes from a twisted, unhealthy sense of pride. While a small portion of it does lie on his noble upbringing and the expectations of greatness that were fed to him from every angle, most of his hubris remains entirely self-taught. His disconnect from his family was entirely his own choice, and the world quickly taught him what the consequences of that choice would be, refusing to offer help for help's sake or to stroke his ego for him. So, over eight years, he's learned to stroke it himself, forcing himself to stay cynically aware of the world and disconnected from those that float through it. What matters most is his own individual ability to live, which, while necessary in a land of survival, still can come across overly selfish and cruel. His confidence is strongly based in this, refusing to be morphed by any other creature and taking great pride in working completely on his own. He is not kind or charitable for the sake of it and easily ignores attempts made in kind to him, sometimes going the extra mile to react angrily and be called out for it - after all, he would rather be seen as cross or paranoid than pitiable, and he will do what he has to to keep it that way. Though he has a natural taste for leadership and keeping the view of the whole in his mind through stress, Lutha will often press it away for the sake of disgust that he's following in his father's footsteps, resorting to being the middle man or completely absent from conflicts outside a few insults or cross words. It makes him aloof, but completely by his own choice - forcing what could be a positive trait to stay at the sidelines in favor of his own narrow desires and goals.
Related to this is just how stubborn Lutha can be. His choices are his choices, and he would rather take a knife to the lungs than bend to another's will. Whether it's his racist views on those he considers too different, the emotional walls he puts up to cope, how forcefully he controls the bargain of a trade or how madly he clings to his desire for vengeance, there is very little that can be done to turn Lutha away from someone he has determined as true, safe, or proper. His boundaries in particular adjust very little outside of what is needed for day to day life; to be vulnerable is not something Lutha knows how to properly deal with based on his lack of support growing up, so he copes by forcing people away and refusing to let them close, not budging unless purposeful attempts are made against him. Personal relationships are difficult, and lasting ones even more so. To earn his loyalty, though, while incredibly rare, is never forgotten. Should someone he consider close to him find themselves in danger, Lutha would not hesitate to rush to their aid and beyond, despite any protests he might receive. If someone has earned his trust to that level, they are just as important as any other choice he consciously makes, and he will not abandon that.
The largest problem Lutha has is how much he has allowed anger to control every other action and reaction in his life. At his core, Lutha is an emotional person who has an admirable boldness and assertiveness for things that matter to him. But life has forced an unhealthy balance in how he copes with his feelings. Anger was the last scar left by his former life, and anger is what fuels him for a goal of revenge in the future, so anger quickly became front and center. Often left to his own devices without a support system he trusts, Lutha instead bottles much of his other emotions, to the point that feeling angry is the only thing he knows how to address without feeling completely overwhelmed. This makes him touchy, confrontational, and even physically violent at times, proving very easy to lead into a righteous fury should the right buttons be pressed. He holds deep and often irrational grudges, rarely caring for forgiveness and often refusing for a resolution at all to his own problems because of how much easier it is to stay upset. He has no problems with mingling blunt truth and remarkable lies, so long as the end result leaves him comfortable. While he does have an inward need to guide poor decisions and discussions back on track, his attempts are often tactless, harsh, and condescending, unapologetic and unafraid to resort to insults and derogatory behavior to keep someone who angers him under his foot. Even well-meaning acts or remarks to him will be brushed off or bickered at.
Combining his emotional state with his overall willfulness, Lutha still exists in an immature mind. Rather than using his boldness or leadership, he defaults to what he has decided he cannot be and cannot have, forcing himself to be inflexible, unobservant and unsympathetic. Even outside the walls of nobility, he remains openly ignorant, refusing to look at things even a little differently until he has enough obvious evidence to prove it for himself. This extends both to ideas and to people - Lutha is an enormous bigot, seeing his race as the top of the heap by the blessing of the gods themselves, and will not hesitate to address one of a lower or unfamiliar race as though they are trash or items to be used. This immaturity also weaves into how fearful Lutha is. Even though he has the boldness to power through his fears, he instead lets them control him and guide him back to his anger instead, lacking the emotional footholds to help him cope in more productive ways. While he has the ability to change, it's deeply buried and would require a large upheaval of his thinking or danger to his life to see any true progress.
But behind all of this, ultimately, is a core sense of determination that holds his true potential for growth. Whether it's a mix of his pride or the past he wants to forget, he never ignores his goals and will do downright horrible things to see them through. He refuses to run for anything that isn't his own survival - not out of courage, but dedication, not wanting to be proven wrong by simply stepping away. This can get him into enormous amounts of trouble, but he faces it with his chin high and feet planted. Even with how he tries to separate himself from others, he still carries a flair for injustice - despite how he acknowledges the unfairness of the world, he won't stand for those that use others blatantly or make the same foolish mistakes over and over, and will barge right into the situation with harsh words or actions if he thinks it will prevent something messier. It ties in with just how idealistic Lutha wants to be, an almost hypocritical contradiction to how life has morphed him to accept the status quo of his surroundings. What he hates of the world can be easily summed up as flaws in society that he doesn't know how to deal with, that he knows can be better, but still are things he doesn't have the flexibility to properly address. As angry and degrading as he can get, Lutha still wants to have a future not so coldly determined by facts. He doesn't want nobility to keep living off the suffering of the poor, or for the poor to so openly disdain those that were born to better circumstance. He doesn't want the pure act of staying alive to have to be a battle against death every day. And, most importantly, he wants to amount to more than he is - more a stain on the wall, more than his scare tactics and scars, and far more than the wayward fool that he believes his father would call him. So he tries, fails, and tries again, not wanting to wait and wonder how misguided he might be. Even if he consistently prioritizes himself, he still cannot sit by and do nothing at all. He is a man of action, not of thought, impatient for a chance to change things.
Flavor Abilities:
Suitability:
Being from a land that already is in a borderline apocalyptic state, Lutha is not unfamiliar with the stressors of little food and an environment ready to kill you at every turn. What he will have to struggle with is the idea that a person can't do everything on their own for long in Snowblind. Though he's slowly opened up to his team at home, Snowblind will throw him in when he's expecting to walk his final legs to a possible bloody death. Regaining trust in others and opening himself up for the sake of both his own survival and, eventually, the survival of others, will be a big challenge and something he will be forced to learn while in Norfinbury. Should he let down his walls and let some of his leadership qualities come through, he could even shine in more stressful situations.
RP Samples:
A mix of Action/Network, Network, Network
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Let me know if you would like additional samples or clarifications!
ACCEPTED
A standard single-story house with a kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom, and bedroom. A faded happy birthday banner hangs in the dining room, and with the streamers and cute flowery paper plates stacked on the table, it looks like a child's birthday party was being celebrated. There are even some presents, although each one is open. All of the boxes, including the largest one, are empty, and countless rocks are piled up neatly nearby. The following has been written inside on the door:
"Food
< 1 day's walk SSE
Regularly Resupplied"
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Re: ACCEPTED