Welcome to Gaia! ::

A school for witches and wizards alike, called Athenayan, located in the very depths of Atlantis, the lost city. The school is easy enough to find, but getting to Atlantis' gates, now that's the trick. To do this, each witch and/or wizard must use their own magical talents to the advantege of the group. In order to access their magical abilities, they are given a spell book, written in the lost text of Atlantis that only those with magical heritege can even see, so they can properly find their way to Atlantis. These books will send the new gereation of witches and wizards across the known world, back again, and throughout all manner of time, to a very special time and place in which one can find Atlantis, if one knows what it is they are looking for, exactly.

You can come from any time, but this is mostly centered during the medival ages, with swords and stuff. No one starts out able to do any magic, though they can have a strange touch with whatever it is that their magic specializes in. No one may have the same magic. So, for example, only one person can be close with fire, and only one can be close with plants, and one with salt water, and so on. They all have to be weak to one thing or another, much like their magic. One can be weak to iron, and another to salt water, and another can weak weak against fire, etc.

Profiles-


After your character is accepted, you must first figure out how to get them to the setting in which everyone will meet at first.

Deep within a dark forest, things aren't always what they seem, and you are not alone. To the east is the elven castle, under seige, and to the west is an abandoned human village. North of where you land, is more forest, but if you make it far enough, you'll see the human castle. The rooute South takes you to a very active human town. Choose your path wisely, little ones, and stick together, for times are rough.


Here's a list of accepted characters:

Witches/Wizards:
Roberts - TheGrayCoyote

Humans:
None!

Elves:
None!

Demon Hunters:
Arimwen - Legan Moon
Cailean/Sirius Doyle - TheGrayCoyote

Other:
SIREN: Nynaeve - Nynaeve Lunesta

Username: Saint of Death / TheGrayCoyote
Name: Cailean (Sirius) Doyle
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Race: Wizard, Demon Hunter
Weastern Zodiac/Chinese Astrology: Aquarius. (Not sure on the Chinese stuffs. Gotta look it up.)
Weapons: He has an iron rapier, a silver cross that twists into a dagger, a wooden stake, a regular cross, many holy water bombs, various cloves of garlic, a holy bible, a book of hymns, a book to excercise(sp?) spirits, a matchbox thingy, a contianer of salt, candles, chalk, other various items a demon hunter of the Medival ages would have.
Time Period: Medival
Apperance:
Personality: Cailean is cold, distant, and hardly ever laughs, and when he does, it's an eerie, hollow, and sarcastic sound that isn't like a laugh at all. He always had a special connection with shadows and the moon, and was always very skileld at avoiding being found when he didn't want to. Cailean, meaning whelp, used to fit him perfectly, but now it no longer does. Since moving to Ireland, he went by Demon Hunter Doyle, Hunter Doyle, or Sirius, meaning dog star.
History: Cailean's father never knew his mother was a witch. Cailean was born in America, Salem to be exact. His mother was burned at stake for a crime she didn't commit, and Cailean sailed with his older sister to England, to their father, saying that their mother had died in a tragic accident. Cailean's father was a demon hunter, and asked all sorts of questions, since he hadn't seen their mother since before she had Cailean. Of course, he was fully expected to carry on the family business of demon hunting, though Cailean didn't fancy the idea of hurting anything. As he grew older, the colder, harsher, and more distant he became. He is no longer squemish about killing, or blood and gore. In fact, he rather likes it, in a sick way. It tells him he did it right, and he did it well. His sister, Fayre, died from a werewolf attack. Actually, she wasn't killed by the werewolf. Cailean killed her, in mercy, after slaughtering the werewolf that attacked her. It was a kind, merciful death, quick and painless. However, after killing his sister, the only thing he had left of his mother, excluding an odd topaz and emerald ring on a silver chain that he came to England wearing. It was her death that made Cailean rebel against his father, leaving England for Ireland, and becoming an established Demon Hunter there.
Book: A dark gray book, almost black, but not quite. You can see the vauge form of a wolf in the 'shadows', with glowing amber eyes.
Gaurdian: A wolf.
Magical Talent: Shadows. He can manipulate and control shadows to do his bidding. However, it must be sort of dark, such as a room lit by candle light, for him to control shadows, and even then it isn't very firm, though in broad daylight he can manipulate a shadow to look like something else, and he can blend in well with shadows with no effort. If there is almost no light, but there is still some light, he can entirely change shadows, and completely control them. This completeness of his powers of shadows is easiest to use on the three nights of the full moon, and hardest on the new moon.
Other: The supernatural fear him, at least in Ireland, no matter what the time period.

Username: Nynaeve Lunesta
Name: Nynaeve Mashira Lunesta
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight as a borad.
Race: Siren
Weastern Zodiac/Chinese Astrology: Couldn't tell yeh... I'll have to do this later
Weapons: A belt knife made from coral and small seashell throwing stars.
Time Period: Some time between the DarkAges and Midevil
Apperance:
The top image is her human form. Short amythest hair and deep orchid eyes. The bottom image is her mermaid form, again with amythest hair, but this time reaching to her hips, with magenta eyes. There is an inbetween form, wich is the true form of a siren, however I do not have a pictuer of this yet.
Personality: Quiet. Very withdrawn and afraid of compainonship
History: Dispite being a siren, she's never felt she belonged amoung them. Ever since she turned three, and her mother was dragged ashore, still in siren form, and had her thoat slit by people she trusted. Nynaeve had vowed never to allow anyone close enough to use the disadvantages of being what she was against her and become a loner.
Book: Deep ocean blue carved with the flowing form an amphitrite
Gaurdian: Amphitrites. Creatuers of the water with the ability to shift morph into any form needed. However, only the oldest and most powerful have the ability to morph into creatuers of the air, as air is that witch is most deadly to them.
Magical Talent: Water. She has the power to liquify the water in the air around her whether in the form of rain, or a more contained sphere. this is only an example of what she can do.
Other: If I think of anything, I'll let you know.

((So... who starts?))

[Pm me the images you like, and I'll pick one for you. Nyn's right; we need to get moving.]

Roberts leaned out the window of his old beat up Ford truck, cussing loudly at the guy who nearly clipped his left bumper. The wind felt great, whipping his dark caramel hair back behind him. His worries, hatred, fear, everything disapeared with the feirce wind as he ducked back into the truck. Everything was just right, he was driving over to his best friend's house, lighting up a smoke, out of the house for the weekend; everything was just perfect. Until he saw something that wasn't there before, something there was no way, even with the max damage his drug habits could do, no way he could have missed that. That happened to be a vast black void, larger than a house, directly in front of him. There was no time or space to swerve of avoid the thing, so Roberts did the only sensible thing he could have done at the time. He dove into the bed of the truck, since the back window was stuck and couldn't shut. Unfortunatly, what had seemed like a good idea at the time resulted in a monstrous head ache, and it still didn't solve his void problem. Now Roberts had always liked books, particularly large books with lots of good information, but not so much when that large, informative book hits you in the head, nearly knocking you 'clean the ******** out'. Instinctivly, Roberts clutched the book tightly to his chest, feeling the cool metal of the cover against his tanned flesh. (He'd unbottoned his plaid flannel shirt, since it was an unnaturally hot day in Texas.) Metal? That couldn't possibly be right. What book was made of metal? But he didn't have any more time to consider the oddity, as he, the book, and his Ford truck were sucked clear into the void.

[Aerith! Medevil! No bikes! No phones! Oh, Sarah specificly stated that the witches/wizards can't know of their magic, however, I can allow a consession. His fire magic is accessed through ANGER! Eh? Eh? How 'bout that? Lmao.]

Cailean padded silently down the cobblestone street, straw covered head hanging low, the messy hair covered by a thick white cloth, yellowed with age. The hood billowed out into a cloak, with two red crosses on the front. It, too, was yellowed with age and wear. A harsh rain dropped form the sky, pounding his head and shoulders to the ground. It was some time after midnight, and people would still be asleep yet. A prime time to do his business and get out before a crowd developed - the was unnervingly popular in Dublin, and the constantly chattering, light, and crowds of people made his work more difficult than it already was.
This time he was hunting a particularly bothersome poltergiest that had snagged itself in a local butcher shop - not something to be thankful for. And he was the one everyone wanted to deal with it. Cailean sighed and spat on the ground. Popularity hindered him greatly, though he did earn more money than say, someone no one ever heard of. As he entered the shop (the door hung in tatters from the bottom hinge), he pulled out his pocket book of hymns, as he knew all too well that poltergiests enjoyed a good song or two, and this one would surely come out to 'dance' along. He flipped to a random page, and roughly cleared his voice before singing;

"We three kings of Orient are;
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.

O star of wonder, star of light,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light."

He glanced up from the book, his gaze flickerign from one bit of destruction to another. Not a poltergiest, then. Cailean whipped around, cloak fluttering behind him. He closed the book quietly and slipped it back into his pocket. The scratching noise he had started at persisted, growing louder and ever more insistant. Reaching for his iron rapier, the scracthing stopped.

"Uselesss," the voice hissed. He'd heard it only once before. Instantly, upon hearing the quietly whispered word, he was filled with rage. The hiss belonged to the third most powerful supernatural being in the universe, the one who'd possessed and murdered his father.

"Show yourself, Ragthorn!" Cailean cried, keeping his cool and desperately trying to steady his rapid heart.

"Very well, Cailean. I shall appear to you . . . For a price." the spirit drawled, stressing Cailean's name. He stiffened.

"Name your stake!" he called, standing his ground, knowing well that the price would be terrible.

Ragthorn materialized inches from Cailean's nose, in all his horrid glory. The obsidian flesh was filled with wrinkles and falling away from the bones. The eyes were white, like those of the blind, and his nose was hooked and crooked. The nails were as long as a rat was wide, sharp as a sword, and a pale sickly green. His pale silver hair was thick, unbrushed, and coarser than a horse's tail. He wore no clothes, as he had no need of them. Ragthorn had no lower body, and he was, indeed, a spirit and a powerful one at that. "Lose everything you have and had. You may only take what you have with you and a few . . . crutches of yours for banishing. Oh, and this," His ugly face broke into a cruel smile, the teeth rotted and yellow. The creature tossed a large leather-bound tome at the young man, who deftly caught it, knowing that Ragthorn was the fairest of the Three and could never resist a fair fight, magic-wise, and the tome would most definently be useful in later times. For Cailean, all went black and he lost consiousness. In reality, Ragthorn vanished as the famous and loved supernatural slayer was swallowed up by a giant smoky wolf.

Nynaeve sat on the white shores of the above world gazing over the quiet waters of her home. No human would believe her if she were to tell them of the fantastical city beneath the oceans depths. For a somewhat advanced race they could be surprisingly shortsighted.

She sighed and flicked the end of her raspberry tail gently, causing the small miniature waves to break the calm surface of the water. She was lonely. Persephone was exploring in her mini form. She gave a small squeak of surprise when a seagull swooped low to investigate the little amphitrite.

Nynaeve flicked her tail again and looked out into the calm waters. Something caught her eye. A smooth deep blue leather that blended in perfectly with the color of the sea.

She slid gracefully in the water and swam to the object, finding a beautifully bound book. It was bound with soft supple leather and carved into the cover was....

"Persephone. Come here for a minuet." the little amphitrite came bounding to her side and nuzzled against her hand. Nynaeve studied the carving and gasped, dropping the book back into the sea. It looked, scale for scale, like Persephone. Right down to the odd desgine on her tail.

She picked the book up again and held it in her hands. Persephone, who had grown tired of this game, curled up around her shoulders and fell asleep, snoring softly in her odd little way.

Suddenly, the water pulled back from the shore, rushing out from around her and leaving her shipwreaked on the damp sand. The water rose higher and higher until it formed a huge tidal wave, on that would crush her in an instant if she didn't get out of the way. But she didn't have the concentration to change into her human form just then.

The water statred to turn in a spiral, slowly dragging her towards it. The spiral turned inward and hit the ground with a devastating crash, engulfing her in icy cold water in an instant. She struggled to hold onto the pretty leather book. A whirlpool had started, and she was being sucked in. The last thing she saw was Persephone swiming rapidly to catch up with her...

[Lamo. OOPS! -clamps hands to mouth- But seriously, check out Cailean's new and improved intro post.

By the way, I'm shaking things up a bit (no duh!) with Ragthorn and Roberts still has his cigarette, AND it's lit. Plus his car and everything in it. (Anyone else thinking Army of Darkness?)]