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Fallen Skies is een 'high fantasy Textbased-RPG' die zich afspeeld in een mytische wereld vol wonderlijke wezens, monsters en magie. Het land verdeeld onder zes koningkrijken is altijd bewegend en beïnvloedbaar. Het kan zomaar zijn dat jij de held wordt van het gehele land of misschien zelfs de grootste terreur die Fallen Skies ooit meegemaakt heeft. Alles is mogelijk in deze gevaarlijk mooie wereld. En niets is gek genoeg.
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Met de koude intrek van winter heeft geheel Fallen Skies wel last van de temperatuur wisseling. Maar voornamelijk in het noorden wordt het iedereen behoorlijk lastig gemaakt en kunnen spanningen dankzij het weer hoog oplopen.
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Met het einde van het jaar in zicht houdt Archeon haar jaarlijkse midwinter festival. Iedereen is welkom om te genieten van alles wat Fallen Skies' hoofdstad te bieden heeft.
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Deel
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Member
Aantal berichten : 13
IC posts : 7

Character sheet
Age: 22
Occupation: Painting pretty faces
Residence : Navarre
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The canvas of reality {open}

op do jan 11, 2018 3:41 pm
Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird,
She's busy, as always, flitting from one project to another. Her mind a puzzle, a huge clump of thoughts and dreams that can't be untangled without loosing some part of her personality. But truly she would not want to change anything at all, she loves her life, her scattered mind, her little atelier where she works on her paintings and where she can create new worlds. Her feet moving quickly through her atelier. Her hands are covered in paint, her light colored dress patched with bright red, blue and yellow. Around her neck fall three very slender golden necklaces, all with their own unique gem dangling at the end. She looks as colorful as she is in personality.

Syrena pulls up her long blonde locks, tying them up in a messy bun with a light blue scarf. She got it from her mother when she was only a little girl. And with those small things Syrena was still able to hold her close. For she missed her way more than she could have ever imagined. As she moved herself back towards her painting again she bends and adds the final touches: adding her signature small in the corner of the landscape piece. It was a piece fully created from memory. Her homeland: Mothers heart. The orange tones of the endless rock fields and mountains piercing vibrant with the endless blue sky. Maybe it was not a perfect copy from the landscape itself. But for her it reminded her of home. Something she missed very dearly. But back in mothers heart she would never have the change to realise her dreams. But here .. In navarre.. it was possible. It seemed as if everything was possible here.

With a soft humming voice she finishes the  signature with a last curl on her name and hears a voice behind her and turns around to face her smile bright and brilliant, her cheeks rosy and covered in tiny paint splatters."Good day." She says kindly, her voice bubbly and energised. She brushes a blonde lock behind her ear and moves herself closer to the person. 'cleaning' her hands on the soft fabric of the dress she gestures to her art pieces, "Can I interest you in buying one of these? Or would you rather just look around?" She turns back to the person, her light blue eyes bright beneath spiderweb lashes.
How is it you sing?





There’s a phrase I love… Which was
‘If you stumble, you make it part of the dance
•••

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