forum Nature's Breath, Death's Call (Open One on One | Romance, High Fantasy, Dark Fantasy)
Started by @Null-Gravity language

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@Null-Gravity language

Love is a strange concept to magic creatures. After all, what is forever when you are forever?

Most magic beings don't really understand the mortal concept of "liking" someone or affection. Who needs that, when you have your tree or river or stone to worry about?

What magic beings do understand, and understand well, is beauty. Just as nature has always captured humanity's attention, sometimes in deplorable and unmoral ways, humanity has attracted nature's attention, sometimes in the same way.

So it was, when you were whisked and whispered away by a strange being of primal magical energy in the wee hours of the night, to a far off place where beautiful and yet terrible beings live. . . the Faelands. The ancestral home of the nature spirits, like the one that stole you.

Apparently, just as you yourself study the tales of magic from long ago, one particular Fae finds a disturbingly keen interest in human history. The Fae Lord, for only a Fae Lord - and among those, only ones of the Autumn or Winter Courts - would dare to take a mortal from their place, asked one of their servants to find a knowledgeable human. That human turned out to be you.

You, understandably, are distraught, confused, and frankly, more than a little pissed. After all, what right does anyone have to kidnap someone? Fae Lords be damned, you will find a way back home.

Or so you think.

As it turns out, the Fae Lord has no intentions of ever letting you leave, as you soon find out when you try and escape. The Fae Lord never had intentions of even taking you, as you might later learn. The Lord only wanted a simpler human, which, from what you've learned of the way the Fae speak so far, means the Lord wanted someone stupider. This pisses you off more.

Eventually, despite this hatred of the Lord, you begin to wonder, what was this Lord's true intentions of bringing you to their estate? Did they want to learn more about humans directly from one, as they said, or do they have a greater goal in mind for you?

Only time and patience will tell. . .

Hey! Thanks for taking interest in the roleplay. It's my first one. Ever, actually. I hope you can be patient with long wait times for a response.

I don't care which role I play, I can make a character for each.

Now, for the rules.

  1. andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s Rules
  2. I want this to stay PG. A bit of a turn-away from traditional Fae romance stories, but it's doable. I'm just not comfortable with writing smut.
  3. Minimal cursing. Again, we want to keep this PG.
  4. Be kind OOC. Please. I'm new, and I don't want to get yelled at or anything. I actually quite like this place.


(hello! I'm definitely interested, sound very similar to A Court of Thorns and Roses and I love that!)


(didn't read all of it, but I'm watching a summary video of all the books cuz they skip the smut but it's really good!)

@Null-Gravity language

(Thank you, @Fenrir! It is loosely based off of ACOTAR, but there are several major differences that'll be revealed throughout. I've only read the first book of the series anyways, so yeah.)
(I'm assuming you want to take the roleplay?)

@Null-Gravity language

(Alright! I'll make a simple character sheet [I'm assuming that's how things are one from the roleplays I've glanced at so far] Which role do you want, by the way?)


(sounds good, and usually most rps do start with a character sheet just to get a good idea of some background so you're doing great :) mind if I be the human character? also quick question what pairing are we doing? )

@Null-Gravity language

Basic Info

Nicknames (Optional):


Skin Tone:
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Hair Style:
Body Type:
Identifying Marks (tattoos, scars, birthmarks, etc.):
Usual Outfit:


Basic Personality (descriptive terms, such as "calm" and "kind" can work instead of a full personality description):
Physical Conditions:
Mental Conditions:
Backstory (optional):


Basic Info

Name: Killian Archeveist
Nicknames (Optional): Lian
Age: 26
Gender: male


Skin Tone: Lian has tanned bronze skin, coming from the south of the continent. He does have areas of lighter skin but most of it is unnoticable unless you get close. He has a few freckles here and there from over exposure of the sun.
Height: Lian stands around 5'8
Weight: 158ish pounds
Eye Color: pale jade green
Hair Color: Chestnut brown
Hair Style: Usually likes to keep it on the longer side, opting of a messy bun or ponytail when he needs to keep it out of his face
Body Type: Overall strong build, leaning more on the leaner side.
Identifying Marks (tattoos, scars, birthmarks, etc.): other than the tatoos, Killian has a tattoo of a leafy vine snaking up his arm up to his shoulder
Usual Outfit: typically wears looser fitting outfits, loose blouses and linen pants since where he lives tends to be warmer


Basic Personality (descriptive terms, such as "calm" and "kind" can work instead of a full personality description): Tries to be a pacifist the most he can, prefering to be the rational, understanding type rather than immediately resorting to violence. He's kind but resserved, oftentimes coming off as shy or even anti-social sometimes.
Sexuality: Pan, he hasn't really given it much thought.
Fears: Being alone or being away from what little family he has. Unfamilair places
Hopes: Killian hopes to travel one day and experience more of the world. Of course well prepared and considering every and any option, he does hope to leave his little cottage for a bit of an adventure before he dies.
Motivations/Goals: His biggest motiation is his adoptive little sister, always being the reason for him to continue his job and put hope into his dreams. Although small, one day he hopes to bring her along on his travels wanting her to expeirience the world.
Hobbies: Playing instruments and art. Although not very good at either, Killian will pick up a new instrument or media of art to try, if only to entertain himself. Very few has he actually kept going or been semi successful in learning well.
Talents: Fixing things and tinkering. In his little village, he's usually the one people go to when they need something fixed or even sometimes need an original piece. He's built a bit of business through his little expieriments, small trinkets and toys or gifts he's made over the years when he's bored.
Physical Conditions: He does wear glasses since his eyesight is aweful but other than that he's grateful everyday that his hands and legs work as they should.
Mental Conditions: Other than self doubt, Killian tries his best to keep in a light mood and keep his mental health in check most of the time
Backstory (optional): Killian grew up most of his life in the south since he knew no where else to go. An orphan and often times raised by the village people themselves, Killian never really knew his parents and never really wanted to find out. As he got older, he knew he didn't want to be like them, abandoning the people that needed them the most so when he was around 23, he had decided to adopt a girl he had known from the orphanage he had volunteered at for years. Although his family is small, it all Killian has and wishes to protect it the best he can.

@Null-Gravity language

Basic Info

Name: Everen Thorn
Nicknames (Optional): Ever
Age: Unknown
Gender: Masculine nonbinary (He/they)


Skin Tone: His skin is a dark brown, with a slight chlorophyll green tint to it.
Height: 8 feet 4 1/2 inches /\ 254 cm
Weight: 213.12 lbs. /\ 96.6696059 kg
Eye Color: Oak leaf green, but one eye is slightly paler than the other
Hair Color: Rose red
Hair Style: Long, wild and tangled, reminiscent of a tangled thorn bush
Body Type: Lanky and lean, corded with muscle everywhere; no fat on him whatsoever. His face is smooth and angular, with high cheekbones and a thin, slightly crooked nose. His chin is a bit pointed.
Identifying Marks (tattoos, scars, birthmarks, etc.): His teeth (in particular, his four canines) are sharp and pointy as hell, and long, similar to a cat's
Usual Outfit: A close fitting blue tunic, belted at the waist, and riding pants tucked into tall, heeled boots. His right ear generally has some precious stone or other in it, whether it be jade, diamond, emerald, malachite or anything else, and his left hand always has a signet ring carved with a pattern of briars and roses.


Basic Personality (descriptive terms, such as "calm" and "kind" can work instead of a full personality description): The best way I can describe Everen's personality is- forest. He doesn't care for matters outside his estate, save maybe one or two, and holds a grudge against anybody who tries to hurt the people and creatures he's in charge of. He, despite this, is a bit of a lively individual with quite a bit of charisma, both with his looks and words.
Sexuality: Bisexual with a curiosity for dating outside the scope of male/masc./female/femme.
Fears: (We'll keep these a secret for now ;)
Hopes: (And these as well :)
Motivations/Goals: Gaining knowledge/learning new things is what tends to drive him forward most, though some other motivations seem to be extending his estates. As for his goals, well. . . not even his closest advisors know.
Hobbies: Reading, writing (novels [of any sort, really], poetry), dancing, singing, going on long walks through the Faeland forests. He also enjoys hunting, whether it be with a simple knife or a sword or faehounds.
Talents: Hand-to-hand combat, tactical thinking, deductions, staying a step ahead of his enemies /\ Outside of warfare/manipulation, he's really good at all his hobbies naturally, though with an eternity to kill before everything implodes you tend to get good at just about everything.
Physical Conditions: I suppose chronic hotness wouldn't count, would it? In all seriousness, if he were to take off his shirt, you'd find a painful looking ropy scar stretching from his left shoulder all the way to his right hip, as though something - or someone - had tried to cleave him in too. As a result he's prone to fits of crippling pain that keep him in bed for days at a time.
Mental Conditions: PTSD (will reveal why later)
Backstory (optional): (Will reveal later)
Other: He always carries a dagger on him, on his tunic's belt.

@Null-Gravity language

". . . and make sure he's well accommodated. We do not need him running off," someone is saying.

Some voice off to the left replies.

"Yes, Lord. He shall be taken care of," it's saying. It doesn't sound particularly human, but it's not quite monstrous.

Quite unlike the first voice.

The first voice is light, yet authoritative, the accent refined and quiet. It's the voice of a born leader and a seasoned warrior.

"Thank you. Dismissed for the night. You need a bit of rest before you start your little hunt," the first voice says.

The second lets out a hissing laugh.

"No, no. . . I am quite content to start the hunt now. The sooner, the better, after all," it replies after a moment.

The second voice can be heard shifting, standing up, then the click of boots against a granite floor can be heard as it swishes out of the room.

The first voice hums and chuckles quietly.

"Killian. . . Archeveist," the voice says. "I look forward to seeing you in person. I hope your journey won't too. . . uncomfortable."

Sometime later that night, the owner of the second voice has slipped into a house, and is waiting.

Watching for the right time to strike.

A silent, strong hand clamps over the human's mouth after a half hour.

"Do not struggle. Do not scream. My Lord is waiting for your presence." the voice hisses.


"I'll see you in the morning." Killian dimmed the lantens in each corner of the room and drew the curtains over the windows, shrouding the bedroom in blissful darkness. "Night Lian." The young girl, Evangeline, replied tiredly, tugging her blankets over her shoulders and snuggling into the warmth of her bed. Killian smiled softly before gently clicking the door shut and heading back downstairs to do some work for the night before he too headed to bed.
Their home was relatively small, comfortable for just two people living in the southern region of the continent. While small in size, it was just enough space for Killian to have a little work area, a living space, and a modest kitchen on the first floor while the second floor was where their bedrooms were. Killian had originally used thesecond bedroom as his work room but had moved things around a few years ago when he had adopted Evangeline, wanting her to be comfortable, refusing her when she had reasured the couch downstairs would be more than enough for her comfort.
He smiled fondly to himself before finding an old record to play and settling at his desk to contunie his little project, this time a custom engagement box that doubled as a music box. It was simple but he hoped the couple would like it.
An hour or so into working, Killian decided to take a break, change out the record for a new one and enjoy the silence of the night and the soft music. This was a very typical late night in for him, putting Evangeline to bed, working well into the night, sometimes falling asleep at his desk or barely managing to get to bed. It was a nice, quiet life, mundane, free from fear or danger. Or at least thats what Killian had always believed. It was still quiet when Killian was yanked against the back of his chair, a hand clamped around his mouth, the scream dying in his throat. He blinked away the surprise and gripped the edge of his chair, trying to see a glimpse of his attacker. No such luck. Then a voice was at his ear and dread filled Killian's mind. He tried to shake out of the attacker's hold, but his movememnt was restricted both from the other's surprising strength and because of the chair. He froze from trying to somehow maneuver out of the person's hold when they mentioned 'My Lord' and a different kind of fear gripped him. Sure there were human royalty but barely did their control ever reach the south. It was a peaceful village after all, prosperous and generous. Nothing the rulers really had to worry about. And his attacker, there was something more rustic about him that didn't seem human to killian. They smelled of rain and wood and moss, something foresty, more wild than what he expected from mercinaries of the king. More otherwordly. More Fae. Of Gods, the Fae. Anything but them. Killian tried his best to think of what he could have possibly done to upset the Fae. While he hardly believed he could garner any attention from them (not that he wanted it at all), he still followed the superstitions, knocking on wood for luck, thanking the spirits every now and again for a good harvest or the beautiful trees and weather on a particular day, blessing those who sneezed, things like that. He certainly knew better than to dismiss the creatures entirely, not stupid enough to curse to them or challenge them. So what could Fae possibly want with him? He took a few breaths as much as he could with the hand over his mouth and silenced his wimpering and muffled please, hoping that woul signal compliance. He slowly raised his hands to show he meant no harm despite multiple sharp objects on his desk and slowly gestured towards a drawing Evangeline had made when Killian had first adopted her, hoping his attacker would understand he wasn't alone here, that he had a family he valued and wanted safe.

@Null-Gravity language

The voice sounds disinterested when it speaks again.

"You are the concern. I'm sure someone will find a place for the child." it states.

It shifts and then the owner of the voice picks Killian up out of his chair.

"We're going now."

It sounded like the voice was smiling a little.

Before Killian can react, the shadows in the room envelope the kidnapper and kidnapee, transporting them through a long, dark tunnel.


'someone will find a place for the child?' but there was no other place for Evangeline. At least no other place safer than with Killian. He had promised her a good life, finally away from orphanage where they had both grown up. He had promised they would be together from now on, no matter what sjed never know what it meant to be alone again.
Tears prickled at his eyes at the mere thought of leaving his sister alone. With what little movement he could manage in his captor's hold, Killian ignored the warning and thrashed as hard as he could, throwing his head back and biting down hard on the hand over his mouth, prepared to taste blood or ichor or whatever the creature behind him was made of. Perhaps it was something other wordly because the next thing he saw was not his home but pure black blankness. He was positive he had his eyes open, or maybe he only thought he did but he was sure he was conciois, he could feel movement and see something but other than that it was pure black. No light, no signs of other people other than his captor, and no Evangeline.