Caliban(Played by Garvey) - Upon entering the dining room:
Caliban takes a deep breath before entering the room. He steps
silently into the room, his neatly polished black boots making little
noise. He stands for a short moment upon the tiled floor, his dark
blue eyes scanning across the occupants. When he sees Orion, his
breath stops for less than a second and his hands tighten;
unnoticeable unless you were carefully watching him. There are slight
dark circles beneath his eyes, indicating a poor night's rest. The
relative emptiness of the room seems to be causing him some
discomfort. Slowly, a slight toothless smile spreads across his face,
and placing his right foot before him, he bows low, as if about to
start a dance. For the entirety of the bow, however, his eyes remain
locked on his family, gathered around the table. "Greetings princes,
princess," he says in a deep, almost echoing voice.
His rough skin has an unusual tone to it, much like a tan but a little
paler. There is a worn look to him, like an old boat that has been to
sea for many years and survived numerous storms. Caliban's slightly
narrow face is framed by thick black curly hair, that looks wild and
untamed. His beard is equally untidy and thick. This is in almost
complete opposition to the clothes that he is wearing, which suggest a
formal clean-cut appearance.
His outfit appears to be the dress uniform of a military officer,
probably of the Army of Amber, although Caliban is clearly not wearing
it according to military regulations. In addition to the boots, which
don't look like they've seen more than a day of wear in their lives,
Caliban is dressed in freshly pressed black dress pants. Though the
pants look to be a perfect fit, Caliban wears them as though they were
causing him great discomfort. A thin stripe of blood red velvet lines
each of the legs of the pants. His white shirt is equally formal and
well pressed, but the top button is undone and the sleeves are rolled
up to the elbow, exposing heavy hairy arms. A light brass chain can be
glimpsed around his neck, though it isn't clear what it is
holding. Over his shoulder is draped a matching black jacket with some
insignias embroidered in red, including one of the unicorn. As Caliban
moves a slight clinking of metal can be heard from his coat.
At his side is a heavy sword in a black scabbard. Unlike the rest of
Caliban's uniform the sword actually appears to have seen some
use. The scabbard, and even the hilt of the sword are slightly
worn. There is a slight amount of dirt on the hilt of the blade, and
even a bit under the nails of Caliban's hands. One of his hands holds
the coat over his shoulder, while the other is behind his back, thumb
wrapped around his belt. On the buckle of his belt is a golden crest
of the Unicorn, finely polished; its forelegs reared up in a pose of
pure majesty.
Killashandra(Played by Taria) - Upon entering the dining room:
Killashandra knew what they all saw as she
walked to her seat, for she had seen it in the mirror just a short
while ago. A tall and lithe young woman who moves with a warrior's
dance-like grace... someone obviously used to using the twin blades
that she wore. Her dark brown, nearly black, hair was short, and worn
casually, the wavy curls falling naturally into a professional
look. The triangle top she wore left shoulders and arms bare, and part
of the midriff on the sides. It was silver, and gave the effect of
flowing almost seamlessly into the skirt. The wraparound skirt was
long and started with the color bronze at the waist, then faded into
black; a blood-red hem that brushed the floor finished it off. She had
a light tan, and she wore a silver onyx signet ring on her left
hand. There was a long silvery-grey scarf around her neck that floated
behind her like faere wings, and matching scarves wrapped almost
ceremonially around the hilts of the dagger and sword at her waist,
the trailing ends left free as well.
His appearance is hard to describe, but Ill give it a
shot. He's hard to stereo-type, this one, he stands six footish and
is neither skinny nor stocky. His muscles are well defined, but not
bulky. Orions shoulder length hair is somewhat wavy, especially as it
is wet right now from this mornings quick bathing, which has it a
little darker than its normal chestnut brown. His green eyes,
handsome cheeckbones, and dark complection are a spitting image of
his fathers, for anyone who knows him. This morning he is wearing a
white tunic, whose neck laces are not tied, exposing his hairless
chest and neck. A pair of black breeches are tucked into soft black
riding boots. He is weaponless except for a sheathed katana in his
right hand, which is beautiful in its simplicity and
craftsmanship. The sheath is laquered black and handle is wrapped in
a fine black material of some other shadow. Orion has that very rare
mix of boyish charm accompanied by the manly body of a
twenty-something olympic class athlete. He's one of those pricks that
every guy hates, who can get up after a morning of drink and other
sensory altering stimulants and look like he could do a shoot for GQ
or Rolling Stone, and every woman loves for the same
reason.
With a dancer's grace, Shiro begins to cross
the room. His red cloak, trimmed in gold billows behind him, a black
lotus flower is embroidered on the back. He is dressed in a tight
fitting black gi tied with a silvery sash at the waist. Tucked within
the sash is his most prized possession, his father's tachi katana;
Thunder-cutter. The red lacquered sheath has kanji symbols etched in
silver and the painted body of a black oriental dragon entwined around
the sheath. Its fiery main is represented by the golden hilt of the
katana and the dragon's head is the handle. Small rubies sparkle from
each eye. The shark fin wrapping around the hilt, gives off the
illusion of scales. Shiro is a lot like his katana. Strong, yet
flexible. Solid and reliable. Beautiful in appearance, but deadly in
application.
Shiro appears calm as he brushes a stray hair from his hard,
angular face; the jade clasp highlights his blue/black hair.
The man entering the room is short of
stature, wiry, not thin, and what he lacks in height he makes up in
presence. Glancing around the room, his piercing green eyes look up at
you, devouring your every feature, boring into your soul, or maybe
that's just the way it seems. Long raven-black hair, flecked with
silver, flows over his shoulders, left to fall free, kept from his
eyes by a regular, semi-automatic tuck behind one ear or the
other. His facial features are small, maybe even petite, and yet not
at all feminine.
He wears a worn, black, leather jacket over a clean white shirt, blue jeans and leather chaps and black leather boots complete the ensemble. A well used but nondescript longsword hangs from his sword belt, a narrow bladed dagger is also tucked through the belt.
The door opens. A tall, slender young woman
steps into the room and pauses, feeling eyes upon her and an
oppressive, achingly quiet atmosphere. She reaches up to push long and
heavy, wavy black hair over her shoulder, revealing high cheekbones
and a face lightly tanned a golden brown, the smooth skin marred by
faint red scratches. The lack of lines around her eyes, mouth and brow
suggest she is not accustomed to displaying her emotions visually.
Her body tenses when she focuses on the man sitting at the
head of the table. She stares at him, and for a moment, it is as if
they are the only two people in the room. Bitterness spreads over her
features, then she sags imperceptibly, her expression collapses into
disappointment, and she looks down from Gerard's hulking form, her
long dark eyelashes shielding her light coloured eyes.
A swish of silken material fills the silence as she walks
slowly towards the table and the only vacant seat. A slight limp
breaks the fluid grace of her movement - she favours her right leg -
though the loose, dark green pants flowing from her hips to just above
her booted ankles, make it difficult to see what ails her. A sash of
the same colour wraps a slim waist and over it, a well-worn black
leather belt from which hangs a short sword. The belt and boots have
seen better days, as has a relatively plain scabbard. The sword
however, looks well cared for and as she moves, an embossed design on
the pommel catches the muted light, but it is difficult to discern the
design.
Supporting Cast Members
Vorus - According to Gerard:
"Vorus is Brand's first attempt to
create an heir and an assistant. Brand tired of him after a while,
apparently disappointed in his progress. But Vorus has been doing well
on his own, apparently. I've never read the Treaty - only Benedict and
Random have, on our side. But Vorus doesn't want to come out here to
play with the rest of you, apparently. Random asked him to help, and
he said some bull about 'Amber not being ready for him'. He's some
sort of scientist, and apparently he doesn't like it that his toys
tend not to work here." He snorts. "But sure - go talk to him. I hear
Vasakath's wonderful this time of year. That is, if you like no sun,
no moon, dark streets, and people with the life expectancies of
mayflies. There's only one way in, though - it's a dark alley with a
bright-ass neon sign. Vorus is rather paranoid about visitors. Can't
imagine why."
