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| The Silent Walker |
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Posted by: Valeriya - 08-21-2020, 12:51 AM - Forum: Greater Moscow
- No Replies
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![[Image: 7517cb21e729696342140d9888e72fbd.jpg]](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/75/17/cb/7517cb21e729696342140d9888e72fbd.jpg)
Illarion
Brother of the Eye of the Khylsty
In the early morning hours, a man in a long brown coat hurriedly walked the labyrinth of Moscow streets. He kept his hood pulled up around his ears and his hands plunged deep in the pockets. The coat was buttoned all the way to his ankles, where very plain black sneakers peeked out. He was as nondescript as possible. Once, someone passing the opposite direction on the sidewalk caught a glimpse of his face and gasped at the empty white eyes that looked back. Illarion made no effort to appease the stranger, for even the barest opening of his lips was more of a snarl than a smile.
Their Great One and the Eye of the Khylsty departed some time before, abandoning their people to serve some great mission that was above the awareness of a meager acolyte. Illarion was left in charge of the Khylstys, but Matvei quickly out-maneuvered him. He did not bother to thwart Matvei’s ambitions. Instead, Illarion took to the streets. He felt caged and imprisoned. Far more so than he did Below. If he was to escape the bondage of their masters, he would need to learn the lay of the land.
And so he walked. Day after day. He learned, watched, and walked.
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| Respite & Resolve |
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Posted by: Natalie Grey - 08-20-2020, 10:46 AM - Forum: Past Lives
- Replies (25)
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Nythadri & Elly
Continued from The Wheel Turns:
The horses' hooves thudded from the grass of the hillside to a clop against stones in a courtyard. Braziers burned, emitting red flickering warmth but little true light, casting the corners into gloomy shadows. Nythadri’s gaze swept her new surroundings. It was not the first time she had stepped through someone else’s Gate into the utter unknown -- and that did not even include Talin’s hurried offering two days prior -- but she was surprised to this time feel a little trepidation stir in her gut. It seemed somehow more final; like the first step on a path that would not allow for retreat.
It was a quiet welcome, but did not seem clandestine either despite the dark hour. A few servants milled, so clearly they had been expected, but it was as unceremonious as an unremarkable return home rather than the formal welcome of White Tower guests. Talin never revealed where she was from, and Nythadri had never cared to ask, but she did not think this was so personal a glimpse as to reveal where the woman was born -- and Nythadri had other suspicions to that end anyway. She watched the Yellow dismount, nimble despite long hours in the saddle. The lines of her shoulder had eased a little, like the weight was a little less.
It seemed they had reached a moment of respite.
Nythadri wasn’t sure how she was going to negotiate her stiff limbs into a graceful dismount, but Elly must have felt a resonance of the pain because she slid free from her own horse easily, and then reached to offer assistance without prompting. Light above did it hurt though, and for a moment Nythadri wasn’t wholly convinced her legs would even bear her weight. She felt more than saw Elly’s sly smile, and pulled away belligerently from the support of the hand at her elbow. Talin might ease the suffering, but Nythadri would not endure the injury of pride to ask, and she doubted the woman would even think to offer. Or perhaps find it amusing not to.
“Rest, sister -- we will do that while we can. And then we must speak,” was in fact all the Aes Sedai said at all as she drew close. Her face was solemn in the torchlight. There was a pinch of weariness in her eyes though, revealed perhaps in the relief of brief sanctuary.
*✣*
This was not where she had expected to be. The rooms she and Elly were shown to were handsomely furnished, though they might have been as sparse as an Accepted’s chamber and Nythadri would have still been glad for the hallmarks of civilization. Steam rolled atop a copper bath by the hearth, and a small platter of breads, olives, and wine had been left on the table. Elly’s long legs roamed from wall to wall, investigating all nuances. No worry flared from within her. It seemed more instinct or habit than mistrust, and Nythadri watched with mild amusement for newly minted rituals. It seemed unlikely they had anything to fear here, but she let the woman complete the task undisturbed.
“I will find out exactly where we are. Can I trust you to stay out of trouble?”
“We really need to talk about this baby Aes Sedai thing.” The tone scorched dry as the Waste, but there was little true offense at the irreverence. Rather that than cloying formality, which would have been infinitely more tiresome. She unhooked the clasp of the cloak at her throat. Whatever oils had been mixed with the bathwater itched her skin with the desire to be clean. She could almost feel the heat soothing tired muscles. “My guess is somewhere in Illian, by the food and decor.”
The Warder nodded, and did not seem to notice that the words came with no promise as she slipped out the door.
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| Idle Chit Chat |
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Posted by: Allan - 08-19-2020, 05:10 PM - Forum: Kremlin and Red Square
- Replies (17)
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Meeting the Atharim channeler had been exciting and lackluster once Allan got past his initial reaction. Much of polish had worn off when the Ascendancy had questioned his motives for wanting to join them in the tunnels. And doubts crept in. But the awe of the world unknown still pulled at Allan. He eagerly awaited the meeting with his leader later that evening.
Still in uniform Allan made his way to the Ascendancy's private chambers. No time had been given and Allan would wait as long as necessary for the man to allow him entrance into his private affairs. There were rumors of his relationship with the US Congresswoman, and now that they were separated by oceans those rumors had not ceased only changed in directions. Allan held no stock in those rumors anymore than he had with others around the compound. But he had listened none-the-less.
Allan wondered about the book or knowledge on offer. Where did the Ascendancy get it? How did he know about the Atharim? Why did he put so much stock in the boy who could channel, when he could obviously end the man's life with just as much ease. Trust was not something to be given lightly. He was a proclaimed enemy of channelers -- yet he was one. The dichotomy was deafening in Allan's ears. How could he do both? Be both?
Allan knocked on the entryway door and waited for his mentor to answer. There might be just a handing over of the book or a long night full of conversation. With the Ascendancy, Allan never knew. But no matter what it was a joy to spend the time with the man. So much better than his own father.
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| Vactrain Project Announcement |
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Posted by: Ascendancy - 08-18-2020, 01:38 AM - Forum: The Scroll
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Today the Ascendancy announced the reveal of a new global construction plan. The CCD will build an interconnect, submersible tube structure that will connect the continents to each other. Through the thousands of miles will course vactrains, which use vacuum pressures to allow magnetized trains to travel at incredibly fast speeds due to the lack of air resistance.
Imagine a 45 minute train commute that carries workers from London to New York. These trains have the capability to travel up to 5,000 miles per hour. Initial plans will begin with a travel speed closer to 1,200 miles per hour. The ride is expected to be as smooth a ride as traveling through space. These pipes are planned to traverse Australia, Asia, Africa, South America. Immediate plans to connect to North America have not yet been solidified.
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| Reservations |
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Posted by: Seven - 08-18-2020, 01:29 AM - Forum: Nightlife & Entertainment
- Replies (31)
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Seven approached the beautiful, glowing mansion that was the home for the Bottom of the Cup Café. As he crossed the street, the smell of glorious foods waited on the air like the swampy bayou he imagined was the inspiration. He smiled to himself and strolled confidently into a soup of music, smoke, and noise that spilled into the garden and covered porches.
He was dressed for the venue, having read reviews that set his expectations about the interior of the café and its patrons. He yearned greatly to meet the proprietress, and only the best would do to present oneself to a Queen.
He wore deep blue slacks cut slim to the leg. An azure shirt was tucked in at the waist and worn with the top three buttons splayed apart. At the neck glittered a necklace. The pendant was a long, silver tusk. Most gloriously, he wore a tailed jacket printed with large blue and purple hydrangea blossoms. His eyes were colorfully bright against the blues, as if the color ran from his irises into the flower petals.
He smiled as he entered, pausing naturally at the front station.
“Good evening, I have a reservation.”
“Under what name?” asked a young man.
“Seven,” Seven said.
“Like the number?” he responded quizzically.
Seven nodded. “That’s right. Like the number.”
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| Bottom of the cup cafe |
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Posted by: Seven - 08-14-2020, 01:41 AM - Forum: General Discussion
- Replies (4)
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Hi all, what board is best to post in the Bottom of the Cup Cafe? Rowan, do you prefer one location over another? E.g. Greater Moscow vs Place of Enlightenment?
Going to start a thread there shortly. Anyone is welcome!
Location: Bottom of the Cup Cafe
Timing: 8:30 pm reservations for dinner
Who: Seven and possibly Xander (as an alias) and who knows!
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| I'm Back Baby |
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Posted by: Michael Vellas - 08-11-2020, 05:44 PM - Forum: General Discussion
- Replies (6)
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Hey guys!
It's been a while, but I was roped back into FA, seems things are pretty awesome still.
If anyone has something they'd like to do or ideas that my characters can get into with current happenings, hit me up!
Characters: Michael Vellas, Tony Soloyov and Damien Oakland.
Also hello to people I have not met! I was around for a long time near the start of the RP.
Looking forward to getting back into things!
MV
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| Eidolon (Chihiro Matsumoto) |
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Posted by: Eidolon - 08-07-2020, 02:16 PM - Forum: Biographies & Backstory
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![[Image: Chihiro.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/Chihiro.png) ![[Image: kota-2.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/kota-2.jpg)
Chihiro & Kōta
• C H I L D H O O D •
Born Chihiro Matsumoto (松本千尋) in Kyoto, Japan, 2021, to an old blood clan of Atharim steeped in Samurai tradition, who train and operate outside of the neighbouring city of Osaka. Chihiro’s education was strict and comprehensive, indoctrinating her from the cradle to the Atharim’s beliefs. She was a willing and bright student, keen to learn, and keen to impress.
Alongside her brother, Kōta, she learned to care for the birds her family used for takagari; the Matsumoto’s public face being the conservation, breeding, and training of great birds of prey, including hawks, eagles, and owls. Chihiro loved the creatures dearly, dangerous as they were, and devoted much of her spare time to them -- and likewise to the creatures Kōta sometimes snuck home, usually because they were injured.
At almost ten years her senior, Chihiro was still a child when Kōta took his oaths. She has fond memories of patiently awaiting his return from hunts. Sometimes she would watch the skies on the city outskirts instead, searching for his beloved goshawk, Yua, and wondering what he would bring home next.
• A T H A R I M •
Both their lives changed in 2040, when a member of the clan was revealed as a reborn god during a hunt for oni in caves near a debased Shinto shrine. The young man, Katsu, was dispatched quickly and cleanly by Yoshimura Ichiro, while Kōta watched on. That evening, the entire clan was gathered to witness Katsu’s older brother, Yoshiro, perform the rite of seppuku.
It was honour to the code of bushido and atharim both, to end the line of the gods.
Yet afterwards Kōta began to associate with gokudō in Osaka, and became more reckless in his hunts. Chihiro had only made her own oaths the year before, and she was worried for her brother’s foolishness. No one had before considered that the gods’ blood might be found within the Remnant itself, and it disturbed them all. The purging was difficult, but it was what they were trained for. Neither Katsu or Yoshiro fought their fate. They died with honour.
Only months later, when she and Kōta were on a trail in Mount Atago seeking signs of a rumoured onmoraki, did Chihiro discover that same taint in herself. Yua’s warning cry pierced only moments before the claws fell from behind; not an onmoraki at all, but the far more dangerous tengu. Kōta roared as the talons sank hard, crushing him to the ground. Ahead Yua’s broken body plummeted. Chihiro stabbed out with the spear of her naginata, impaling the creature from behind. As the weight lifted, Kōta hurled to his feet. Between them, they slayed the beast.
Afterwards, chest heaving, Chihiro crawled to where the goshawk lay in a flurry of bloodied feathers, fearing the worst. Something pushed out of her as her fingers met the bird’s body, and a moment later the hawk suddenly shifted. With a shrill cry, she burst back into the air.
Kōta sucked in a breath.
Chihiro’s eyes widened in horror the moment they both realised what had happened.
Kōta did not move.
When he refused to kill her she reached for her own tantō, but he caught the blade before it reached her neck. Taken off guard by the interference, he disarmed her easily, and in alarm she struggled against him. Yet he was too strong. As the shadows fell around them, he would not let her leave, nor allow her the right to end her life. The Sickness came upon her faster than it should. As she later burned up, all she could think was that she would die in dishonour. Kōta had taken her kaiken.
• D E A T H •
The Sickness passed in a blur of memory, punctuated by her brother’s concerned face and the shadows of the cave he left her in. Somewhere in the midst of that fever she realised with surprise that it was not the first time she had experienced the symptoms, just the worst. In her absence she was mourned, for Kōta had already passed on the grave news of her death to family and clan. When her shivering body cooled, he was there once more, belongings packed in haste.
Chihiro was horrified by the proposal.
They fought once more, though he was stronger, and she was weak from recovery. He spoke of blasphemy. He spoke of a cure.
She did not believe him. And it did not matter.
It is our duty to die, she told him. Over and over.
But he refused to listen.
• E I D O L O N •
Legally, Chihiro is dead. In the years since, they have travelled extensively; in part because Kōta rarely manages to stay out of trouble, and in part for fear of their discovery by the Atharim. In those early days he watched her like a hawk, as though expecting her to slash her guts at any moment. At first she presumed the Sickness would take her, and that perhaps Kōta would finally do his own duty once she was gone, but it never happened. In fact she rarely feels the power, and has never touched it since. Sometimes she wonders if it was all an ill dream, and that she is not tainted, though she knows this for a lie.
The first time she was asked for her name Kōta stole the choice, and introduced her as Eidolon. That was much to her chagrin, since it seemed a flagrant nod to their exile, but she said nothing despite the way he grinned at her afterwards. These days she usually goes by Eido.
Eventually Kōta returned her weapon, but she has yet to use it. Honour is ash, and death will not absolve the crime of delay. First, she seeks redemption -- for them both.
• A B O U T •
Her manner is gentle, unassuming, and distant. She avoids unnecessary eye contact and dislikes unsolicited touch or over familiarity, particularly from strangers. Most presume her to be meek, though this is not the case. She carries herself with quiet confidence, but nonetheless a demeanour that does not invite the eye to linger. Her manner of dress is simple -- clean lines, plain colours, and clothes that do not accentuate her form. Her hair is worn long and straight, not cut into any style, and she does not use cosmetics. Barely any accent lingers upon her English, for she has spent effort purging herself of old ties and associations, which she finds a painful reminder.
Chihiro is inherently mistrustful of channelers, preferring to avoid their company, particularly women who will recognise her in turn. She enjoys the company of animals, and desperately misses the birds of her youth and the mountains of home. Though Kōta still hunts when the opportunity arises, Chihiro does not. She is trained in the use of naginata, kaiken, and the art of tantojutsu, and is a competent archer of the hankyū also, but shuns these practises now; all but the kaiken, which she still carries on her person.
• T E R M S • & • T R A N S L A T I O N S •
Gokudō -- term for yakuza.
Takagari -- falconry.
Naginata -- a weapon consisting of a wooden or metal pole with a curved single-edged blade on the end; similar to a glaive.
Kaiken -- a 20–25 cm (8–10 in) long, single or double-edged dagger, without ornamental fittings housed in a plain mount. A type of tantō. Carried for for self-defense and for ritual suicide by slashing the veins in the left side of the neck.
Tantojutsu -- Japanese term for a variety of traditional Japanese knife fighting systems that used the tantō, a short knife or dagger.
Hankyū -- Japanese short bow.
Onmoraki -- A bird-demon created from the spirits of freshly dead corpses.
Tengu -- mountain demon with avian characteristics.
Eidolon -- In ancient Greek literature, an eidolon (plural: eidola or eidolons; Greek εἴδωλον: "image, idol, double, apparition, phantom, ghost") is a spirit-image of a living or dead person; a shade or phantom look-alike of the human form.
• S O U L •
She is possessed of a gentle soul, always desiring of peace and simplicity, which she either spends her life protecting or in search of. In each rebirth she is born with a sibling, usually a brother, and with an affinity for animals.
1st Age: Born as Chihiro Matsumoto, a former Atharim hunter.
3rd Age: Born amongst the Seanchan, she spends much of her youth collared as a damane trained for battle, before emancipation leads her to the White Tower. Following the Last Battle, she is instrumental in organising refuge for those displaced by the devastation, and ultimately ends her days in peace.
6th Age: Born a huntress in the wilds, preferring the company of animals over most people. She offers sanctuary to escaped slaves at her refuge of Lake Nemi. In myth she is remembered as the Roman deity, Diana.
• G O D D E S S •
Diana is a Roman goddess of the hunt, wild animals, the moon, chastity, and childbirth. She was the patron of slaves, who could find sanctuary in her temples, and also of women seeking to conceive healthy children. Much of her history has been erroneously conflated with the Greek goddess Artemis, and thus little is known. Even her Roman myth is likely a reinterpretation of an earlier Sabine goddess.
She is a twin, though the identity of this counterpart fluxes. Depending on the source, it is sometimes credited to be Apollo or Lucifer. Occasionally she is associated with Janus.
In Roman art Diana usually appears as a huntress with bow and quiver, accompanied by a hound or deer.
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| Delivered |
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Posted by: Jay Carpenter - 08-04-2020, 01:43 AM - Forum: Greater Moscow
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He slept most of the flight back to Moscow. He learned early to sleep when the chance came. Because a soldier never knew when another chance for rest may return. Same thing with eating. Stick to the clock. Keep the day regular. Because someday it would all go to hell. Survive. Then get shit back to normal.
Well. Jay survived.
Did that mean shit would go back to normal?
The extraction crew that carried them out of Mexico had indeed been a ZARS squadron. Their point of return was a base in a location Jay was certain to never learn. There wasn’t much to see anyway. They were ushered out of the helicopter, given fresh clothes and offered a chance to clean up. The poking and prodding that came next took the guise of a full physical, but there were scans in the hands of the military docs that he didn’t recognize. There was quite a lot of attention paid to the hair-thin lines that crisscrossed his upper body, but they were reported as scar tissue and that was that. Jensen gave Jay the work over back at Amengual’s, so he otherwise checked all the boxes. He hoped Natalie’s physical would be as unremarkable, but he didn’t ask when they were reunited.
He was relatively quiet. Nobody debriefed him. No reports were filed. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting some officer to sweep in with questions. In fact, it seemed Scion Marveet was more interesting than a Rod of Dominion. Jay didn’t mind.
They were delivered to a military operated airport near Moscow. The men (excluding Scion) wore polo shirts and khakis pants. Jay kept his shirt taut and tucked as if he was about to be inspected at drill. He smoothed his hair to the side. He needed a cut, badly.
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![[Image: Nythadri-AS-av-sq.png]](https://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Nythadri-AS-av-sq.png)
![[Image: elly-.webp]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/elly-.webp)
