CYCLICAL

A Kingdom built on the ashes of our broken Humanity  |  Mobile

[cyclicalrp]

#####initiate_erebus~~~33347

Identity: UTP, Erebus Location: Nereid Bay, assassin for the crown. 

You’ll shuffle off this mortal coil in a whisper, and it will be no different to how you have lived. If you have ever truly lived at all. There’s no meaning in the world to you, no drive that helps you understand what it is to do more than just exist. That natural presence you can’t comprehend, could take or leave sometimes. Even in your finest hours, the moments there’s evidence of blood beneath your skin and bones to hold you right, still you feel detached.  How is it then that something stirs, like a power coursing through your veins, like passion and like life, when in truth you’re less in control than you were before, grass to sway in wind.  You’d give it a name but you know hers not.  Somehow you’ve come to know what it is to die at your own hand. Understand completely why they make all of their noise with only themselves to hear proof of their pain, their dying, fleeting, life.  It’s death or dying or worse when you watch some undeserving body meet hers close enough to touch, even eyes that gaze upon her seem all at once too much. It’s life or living or better in that same tormented glance, when you know that she is your religion. You’re a martyr to the cause.  It’s different then, the crescendo not only in your head for once. It’s appropriate that the parameters are the same. Their blood, your hands, just noise.  For it’s proof at last of this thing called life, that finally you can claim it. Although you can’t confirm what the difference is between the assassin and the lover, when the result takes the same darkened path, only murder feels much different.  And where you go from here may be a question you can’t answer, because you had always been that boy who was content to coast on empty.

Plot Prompts & Suggestions (optional section)

1. You were assassin for the King, and then you found yourself without a cause, a reason, or a purpose. So when his sister, Themis, your contact and proposed employer, requested your services you had no real hesitation.  B.  You served the King and now you serve the Queen. Of course that will never be the official story, when it is deny deny deny, when you are far too good at your job for anyone to find out or survive such a thing. Sometimes it’s Themis who calls you to work, on behalf of her niece, and you have no reason to question. 

2. You met Nyx at the Palace Masquerade, but that did not ring alarms for there were far too many people and it was only for one night. And even when it rested in you, that ache and urge unknown, it was not suspected that you would be the one to face danger from the tryst. You realised who she was unmasked but still do not know her name. And if you were to seek it, if you were to find it out, there’d be danger for the both of you, of that there is no doubt. 

3. You have a day job, even interact with your targets there. Of course they wouldn’t believe that they would remember your face in such a way, as the last they have seen, record every detail. They wouldn’t think of you at all given you are just a stagecoach rider.  And that is how you hide yourself, in plain sight for they do ignore. 

Connections

Nyx  Never before have you been so swayed by life or beauty. There is a danger that you have found yourself and what it means to be alive, the things you’re capable of, or a danger that you’ll drift away and detach yourself fully as an extension of her will. 

Themis  For a long time now you’ve been in contact. The names from her lips heralding the death of men. There is a loyalty there, or simply a familiarity, repeated motion to become a habit. Trust is not a question nor confirmed, but some day it might become a notion or it might become a blade. 

Thanatos  Contact on behalf of Psyche. 

Atlas   You killed for him and he doesn’t know. The Queen requested an opening and you did oblige, and so he now holds the home and position of Daphne’s father. 

Suggested FC: Oscar Isaac Alternate Suggestions: Santiago Cabrera, Alfonso Herrera, Gael García Bernal

[cyclicalrp]

#####initiate_bia~~~33347

Identity: UTP, Bia Location: Lethe Palace, personal guard to the Queen. 

They tell you to fit in, or other days they tell you to be exceptional. As a child it’s hard to comprehend, difficult to decide who you should be that day, and more so who they want you to be. Only they never wanted you. And soon it came to be that you just didn’t want to serve anyone at all, didn’t want to be involved in their games. At the Orphanage you became known as the girl that would fight the world. And that is who you became. A warrior. Somehow you found purpose in a role you had forged yourself, or sometimes, in chilling thought, the role they had forced you to. Serving as a guard in the Palace was the highest honour, or so it seemed. You don’t know what came first, your transfer or the souring of that thought. Either way it didn’t last, and your true value was found as a soldier, just another in the crowd, where some days you fit in and some days you were exceptional. It was everything. It was home. It was a mistake to think yourself content, to think yourself secure. Just as you were in infancy, you were plucked from your cozy life, told you were lucky for being alive, gifted to be going to such a place. This time it was a trip to the past, one you would have given anything for before. This time, this time, it rolls around in your head like a punishment, like some kind of penance for reasons unknown. Personally requested by the Queen. Your brothers and sisters were less surprised than you, perhaps because they think it is on merit, maybe they believe it a reward. Except you’re not some puppy to come when she calls, roll over and beg for her attention. You’re the girl who would fight the world, and that includes the Queen.

Plot Prompts & Suggestions (optional section)

1. She loves you. She loves you not. She loves you. She wants you near. She loves you. She needs you now. She loves you not, when she tugs your chain and forces you to her, removes your free will. So you’ll force her to send you away. Force her the way she has forced you. Maybe you’ll die trying. Maybe she’ll die trying.  B.  You deserve this position, for it’s true that you are the best for the job. So you’ll perform to the best of your ability, put your life on the line for the woman you love, loved, got all wrong. And when the day comes when the war is on her doorstop you will finally be the soldier you planned to be. Until that time you will keep both feet firmly at her side. No distractions.

2. It’s hard to have a heart when they beat it black and blue. There are bright lights, people who want the best, but there are those with souls so full of shadow. There are those who will take children and turn them into mice, or hopeless vacant shells. And while you don’t seem quite the type, you’re determined to be a source of light. At least remove some of that darkness. 

3. You’re not just fearsome, not just might. You’ve got a taste for holy things, like fingers brushed across your lips and angels without wings. So if you should just designate yourself to protect those delights, it’s not your fault when men are bold and force your hand. From brawls inside the brothels to the streets of alluring night, they can be sure you’re involved somehow but always on the right side. 

Connections

Nike  Sister by circumstance and evidence of those bright lights that shine in even the darkest situations. It was a miracle to find each other, and sometimes you feel as though you don’t deserve someone so good, someone so loyal. Especially because your affection can not be shown in simple ways, often seems just evident to you. 

Psyche  You thought yourself in love once, if that’s the word for it. You’re not sure if it’s accurate, you’re not sure that it fits. Maybe in the moment it would be more clear to you, but it’s been a time too long now, like a ghost you do not fear. And whether you still feel it is a question not as real as the wonder if you forgive her for her beckoning you near. 

Atlas  Sheriff of the Mountains and Head of Castle Othrys.

Pallas  Training Lieutenant at Castle Othrys, your former station.

Suggested FC: Sofia Boutella Alternate Suggestions: Leila Bekhti, Nazanin Boniadi, Freema Agyeman, Jenna Dewan Tatum

[cyclicalrp]

You’ve never wanted money, power, or even glory, for you delight in simple things, and there’s your tragic story. If you were a girl of strength this might have ended better, but at least now you’re safe again, you’ve been unshackled from your fetter. And really it was a plan too stark, a way to rob your glimmer, for you’d have killed him in the dark, been left a person dimmer. So what transpired you’re unaware, you weren’t privy to the scene, all you heard was of fatal tear, where lay King who once had been. Your beauty is a curse sometimes, but still you hold delight, in all that glitters in the sky, those twinkles in the night. For you are just that simple girl with heart so pure it shines, and while you can’t afford the price it’s for true freedom that it pines. 

So when you leave the Palace and return to home on shore, it’s not status that you’re seeking but those stars that you adore. And when they look upon you with their curses and their glares, it’s not sin that they’re seeing but a girl who wasn’t there. And when you do return their words with character so white, you’ll leave them one more gift and that’s a kindness more than might.  There’s one thing that is hurting and it’s an ache that is so blue, you’ve forgotten all your friendship and could swear that she has too. Please look up to those stars now for they hold a greater truth, you are far more than your sadness, or your beauty, or your youth. 

[cyclicalrp]

Life is strange, or so it seems, fortune favouring the lesser man, but if there’s some court of appeal, you’re not sure that you’d win. For you are just a hollow shell, a wound that will not heal, a ghost in someone’s bedroom, with joy not yours to steal. You could have been a better man, with reason still to shine, but that’s not the fate of the gold, the guilty, or divine. And when they do compare you to Dionysus from your birth, you question all their reasons for she is held with too much mirth.  While you can pretend, even cater to each desire, your heart has been lost to you, for it’s sunken in the mire. A showman you are, easy, for you have the golden touch, but raging is the burden because for you it’s far too much. You could have been a Prince once and perhaps that’s the ideal, for since then you are broken, you’ve forgotten how to feel. Let us not forget though that it takes those with none to lose, to wreck an entire Kingdom, with a skill that they abuse. So if you are forgotten it will be no fault of your own, just a mistake of their upbringing, not quest to reach the throne. 

And if you are a thief, a fool, or King who’s yet to be, that question’s for the silence, where you trick your enemy. You’re more than just a party boy, a face that’s always seen, you’re more than just a courtier, you’re headed for the Queen.  

[cyclicalrp]

You’re a King of your own castle, and it’s all thanks to the Queen, but if you can forgive her is an answer yet unseen. You see you are her Knight now, with no choice in your own life, obligated to defend her, with loyalty, in strife. For you are just a puppet in this new and strange charade, her servant in the mountains, soldier of the barricade. Your friendship is important, whether long, or close, or true, but she has stolen all your options with a role she’s set for you. And maybe it’s a blessing for a boy who’ll never learn, that life is for the taking and not just for the burn.  It’s a debt and burden all at once, a price you have to pay, at least you are exalted now, the friend that did not stray. And sometimes when you think of it, or glance across the way, you see a future full of weight; with pillar that will not sway.

For the first time you’ve real purpose, for the first you are afeared, so let this be a lesson now, that life for once has neared. So meet us in the morning, whether skies are dark or dim, our shepherd in the mountains, for you a grateful hymn. There’s trouble on the hill line, and danger on the peak, if it’s protection you are dealing; it’s not justice that they seek.  Come now, move this forward, for you are the Knight of mettle, we’ve threats against our borders, a resistance still to settle. 

[cyclicalrp]

Gatekeeper at the mouth of hell, or guardian to the heavens. Before your parents’ death you were much less and more, but now you’ve had to take responsibility for matters close at hand. Your sister is the Queen, of course, and she’s the better choice, That doesn’t keep you from a role you had not planned to fill, for you are left with a Kingdom and a family name to command. You are left to take control of all the hidden matters, while your sister pretends to rule in daylight alone. Both of you are well aware there’s necessary evil, and sometimes that is your name or sometimes hers thereafter. Always you justify your actions, know you’ve taken the right course, to benefit the Kingdom. And even still there is a hope that when all this is over, you’ll be seen as a brother first, no question of your motives. 

So if sometimes you have to hurt the ones you love to save them, you’ll steel them for a bitter wound, and be the one who suffers. You’ve shared so many things with people who aren’t quite blood, but there’s some things they can’t know and some sins they must forget. Better you that makes the choice and takes the hardened road, for at least one is too tender to decide, the other too close to throne.  And if there is a part of this for hope left for yourself, you’ve never been that kind of man, you must put Palace first.  If this story is truly over, that’s one thing you can’t decide. for you are not a seer, boy, and here comes death’s true bride. 

[cyclicalrp]

A bounty hunter of sorts, one of the many faces you wear, for words are but your weapon, and theft is your repair.  You see you are a liar above all else, with little need for flight, and still you run across the lands, leave them without a fight. You’re the man between the worlds, the way to bring them close, when pulling back the middle veil requires but a dose. For while you skitter between both reality and dream, you’re leading them to place of control, no true intentions seen. Mnemosyne is the curator and you have been its feet, for where it can’t afford to go, you offer a retreat.  So sometimes you’re in darkness, that stranger in the night, but other times you reel them in with charm amidst the light. Either way you are a guardian, a captor, or a guide, with just one word, you know it’s true, they have no place to hide. 

Maybe it’s a virtue or maybe it’s a sin, but still you are forgiven, for bright alluring grin. And sometimes when you think of it, you are a hero bold, with knowledge and with subtlety, with words so winged by gold. Perhaps you are too boyish, too innocent in youth, for what you do not wish to see is the demanding truth. Ignorance is bliss they say, and for a man so smart, your knowledge is no blessing, suspicion rules your heart. For you are still a messenger, at least that part is true, but what you’re moving is the truth, the lies they cling to you. 

[cyclicalrp]

There was a time when Aphrodite begged you show a spark of decent feeling, for though your countenance was the same, to no King were you kneeling. And now it seems that time has changed you just the same, for she is much like you were then, and you, a fool of oath. Still between you there is a game, an accord, and a true vision, for they will pay their penance still for love that’s sorely missing. You see, apart you had great talent, great skill to tangle lovers, but together you’re a force none can contain, poison, salve, or both. You graze your hand against the throat and wait for a collision, cast the pieces into place, watch love that has arisen. A charming confidence man who lures just as easily as he gifts. Whichever is the sin to you remains to be seen, the conning or the love, the lies or the careen.  And when it comes the time again to change what you are feeling, you’re not sure if you’ll choose the sword, the poison, or the healing. 

Although still there is a spark of hope, a spark of decent feeling, for you regret some of your boasts, regret some of your dealing. You’ve caused a death of life, of love, of both, it was unbidden, and all you know is the pieces did survive, are lost. must still stay hidden.  So when that day arrives, much sooner than you think, you’ll address some of your crimes, intoxicate with more than drink.  You can be love’s ally still, an enemy of state, but for now you’ll take your fill, encourage some to hate. 

[cyclicalrp]

You know your own mind far better than you know your heart, and perhaps that is because you believe one useful and one useless. It takes a certain numbness to be Queen of a whole Kingdom. Takes a certain outlook to control despair so well that you appear to have just the right amount to believably mourn your parents and still prove capable. You’ve been through so many trials and conquered them with ease, because your mind takes prisoners, your heart’s just a disease.  Your instincts have been honed from such a youthstruck age, from orphan to a princess, a road that was self-made. So when it comes official time to place crown upon your head, you’ll know you were a Queen from birth, a force to reckon with instead. 

In all this you may find it trite that heart was not imbued, with armour or with urgency, to love it should refuse. And still you know in all of this you are monarch by trade, a conman and a butterfly, a lie of brighter shade. Spare a thought for your poor subjects, whose minds you do control, for you’re the one that holds the reign, the one that tricked so well. And maybe it is right, you know, you are the better choice, you’ll take the hard knocks as they come, you’ll give each man a voice. And when you’ve settled into throne you’ll find yourself relieved, because, dear mind, hubris is my name, and there’s no finer friend than me.  Stay steady on your feet, my dear, they say the first strike’s free. 

[cyclicalrp]

She calls you weak and there was a time where you might have thought Athena misinformed, might have thought her wrong, but you know who you are now and know exactly what she’s referring to. So while you are a better man in oh so many ways, and while you’re comfortable in yourself and realise your own strengths; there’s part of you that is well aware that you’ve tied yourself to the wrong horse in this mere one horse race. Her brother is your cross to bear, the chain that will not break. Yet you have always had the vision, the talent to uphold, so loyalty or enforcement, you’re trapped either way.  You’re built of iron, cast in gold, a frame of burning ember, you’re more than architect of a stronghold, you’re the spine of every man who defends the realm. You’re strong, capable, and wise, and still you are a coward, for you see what they can not, lay down to the inevitable.  Perhaps it’s the rising of the tide that sets the flames of war, but you’ll be there in the lamplight, offer strength forever more. 

So while you cast yourself aside, hold true to gods of war, you are not punished for your pride, you are but fortune’s whore. A side you do not choose to take, but one arrives unbidden, the only way forward in this race, a darkness you see hidden. Lead us not to our own ends, but deliver us to safety, for you’re protector by a trade, you are the route to mercy. And when the day for war arrives, of course, you know it will; you’ll be fighting on the right side, you have and always did. 

[cyclicalrp]

update

There are eight teasers left in drafts (no one has suggested anyone extra they’d like to see, but there is still plenty of time to do so as I’m not posting teasers for the extras), which I’m trying to get written tonight to queue over the morning and into tomorrow (again, feel free to blacklist #teaser. cyc).  IF this works out, then I’m fairly confident the first skeleton(s) will be posted tomorrow sometime. So if there’s anyone in particular you’d like to see first, please let me know. 

Again, I want to apologise for the delay in updates and getting skeletons out, there have been a lot of unexpected obstacles this week to my being online. I’d also like to reassure you that this isn’t a frequent thing, and I don’t intend to neglect this roleplay or your interest in it. 

A couple of wee notes as well that I’ll delve into more in the future;

the plot & setting of the roleplay will evolve and even change with certain hidden task completions. Players will be given the chance to reject major changes before made public. 

every character account will receive ‘anon’ prompts and messages from the main if permission is given. these are all optional. 

the skeletons will perhaps appear more like bios in some ways, but most is simply suggestion. the 50% that isn’t optional is still negotiable to a point. 

most skeletons are, in my mind, nonbinary & pansexual (with exception of selene who is asexual to my mind), but I tend to use he & she pronouns because they don’t personally bother me and it’s more fluid for me to write. However I understand if & why they would bother other people, and so will change them if requested by the player. gender & sexuality are also up to players (within reason) but if it’s in your interest to do so, please take into account how the skeleton was originally written. 

I recognise that there isn’t a huge amount of representation currently in the first batch, and will endeavour to be more inclusive in future. 

All teasers marked unknown mean the player can decide whether the character is a cylon or human, a cylon that doesn’t know it’s a cylon (sleeper agent), or if they’d like me to decide for them & tell them/keep it secret until a later date. In fact, permission will be requested on the application form to lie to players about the status of their character. 

There are still plenty of background pages to set up so I wont be publishing the application form until the locations page & anything else necessary is available. If there’s anything you’d like me to expand upon or feel needs clarified, please feel free to get in touch. 

[cyclicalrp]

There’s a hunger in you that can not be abated, so you can deny it or try to control it. You’ve never been good at losing control. You’ve only been good at losing control. So you recognise it, feed it, set it free. And somewhere in between all that, in a mystery to you, Athena saw something different, a quality misunderstood. So there you took a different path, with direction still familiar, a leader of the soldiers and guardian unexpected.  There’s fight in you enough for all of them, and still you overflow, for what you need is a battle true and not one fabricated. Yet you fear it now, in ways you thought you never would. Wonder if they’re ready, so push and push and push. 

Those men are yours to forge and shape, and so you make them bleed. There’s nothing so important or as fearsome as your creed. So when it comes the time to draw blood that isn’t theirs, you’ve shown them how to do the same, and what survival means.  And as for you you’re still unclear what it is you’re fighting for, just know it is a part of you, this yearning for a war.  You never asked for any of this, never knew enough to want, and still you’ve found your home, your place, the calm between the storm. And while it can not last you know, still you rage against the night, both wanting and denying, when there is risk for all this fight.  Bloody, broken, and bruised, is a place that seems serene, but maybe you want more for once, as part of a machine. 

[cyclicalrp]

There is no excuse for what you have become. No reasoning, no profound hypothesis on what changes a boy like you into the man, hmm monster, you have become. Such an endearing thought that it is your own dear sister who leveled you with such a title. If only she would appreciate that her contribution was well-received. Fair enough, you love her, even without such colourful words, and credit granted, she might be right; you’ll accept it either way. Yet there’s a question on the tip of so many tongues that swiftly loses shape; are your acts or character the thing with blame so quick to take. 

It’s not as though you have deviated from family legacy, only you’ve made it a success. Cunning mind an asset to the entire Kingdom with such a war, so surely you’re a hero rather than a threat to be abhorred. Perhaps Athena is the problem, so quick is she to judge, when your art is just the same as hers, your living made from death.  It really shouldn’t bother you, and maybe it does not. Yet once upon a time, you were that boy beloved true, and now you’re just a warmonger, a man not quite so blue.  So if there was a choice to make, of that you weren’t aware, because you see no wrong in it, the man who doesn’t care.  To lend you now just one last thought, just one and only this; is your goal to be prepared, secure, or do your morals you dismiss

[cyclicalrp]

Your home life was a battlefield, and sometimes you wonder if it was your only surrender. Although it could easily be argued that you found your allies elsewhere, a victory instead. Of course you did demand it of them. when you fled home in youth. That isn’t quite right, you didn’t flee, but ran to them instead, a pursuit of strength for you all, over indignity, over grief. You declared they needed you in the aftermath of his mother’s death, and his father, your father, knew that you needed them just the same. And so, from that day forward, a sister you became. 

That is how you have been known, as a warrior to fight battles on behalf of others. At least who they deem you to be, when your mind is too logical and well-balanced for selfish pursuit. Even now you are a representative, focused on the protection of your troops and longevity of the Kingdom. Selflessly perhaps, you find yourself at war with your own brother, in spite of your own heart. Yet sometimes the choices you must make weigh heavily, the greater good demanding sacrifice. So how is it that they would call you a hero when you send men to their end on the chance that the number will be fewer. How is it that you walk with head held high and allow the ruse for their benefit, when you know that either way their losses will be more than yours to claim.  You have killed without lifting a hand, and still you lift your head.

[cyclicalrp]

They call you the healer of pain, and you wonder how that can be true when your job is to prevent any pain at all, when your patients aren’t supposed to be capable of feeling such a thing. They call you the healer of pain and you smile, for you are supposed to be honoured with such a name. They call you the healer of pain, so why is it that you can’t even numb your own.  You were only a boy when you found your hero, gazed upon his works and learned the truth that others can not seem to comprehend. Life has been created and stolen in the same breath so many times now. Rejected and forgotten where it should be cherished, where proof of life could be found. Perhaps that is why you are on the verge of rebellion, have tipped your hand at least once looking for evidence of your own humanity, of theirs. Or maybe it is that you are honoured, by their faith in you and your hope in them. 

Then again, you are surrounded by those who believe they are alive, your only supposed clarity coming from those humans who pull the strings of power- so why are their voices more trusted than your own.  Why is it that you must bear the stain of blood on your hands but pretend it isn’t lifeforce at all, pretend it does not matter. They are only machines and you are only a mechanic.  So why do you feel like a killer. 

[cyclicalrp]

As the son of a lowly fisherman, there are many things you would wish to forget. And yet your greatest accomplishment to date is the one they have deemed to take from you. You remember it still, for you have not proved yourself a threat, perhaps never will. Your father’s loyalty to the Kingdom is forever lain upon your shoulders, and while you could easily question whether loyalty is owed, you have made no move to combat it. Even as the memory of the man, who would willingly sacrifice you to feed himself, fades, you see with perfect clarity the mould you must embrace. 

Try as you might to never overpower the image of that man before you, you have no choice. You are everything he was not. Such lack of control is dangerous, and sometimes it is a blessing, for you are a bleeding heart and a survivor all in one. You are everything and you are nothing. It means you have potential, to rise above and soar, though you have tried to heed the warnings of that phantom of your past. So when they ask you who you are you hesitate, in fear, in doubt, and most of all certainty. For who you are is who they expect you to be, or that is your greatest fear.  So when you return to that same shack along the shore, and sit against your father’s chair, you know you’ve lost the war. Yet you rise again in morning to view a myth he did persist, a mermaid in your nets and a much-forbidden tryst. 

[cyclicalrp]

You’ve landed on your feet, though a cat in the gutter you were not. Could never be, in spite of all the obstacles you faced. Whimsy and imagination strong enough to combat the reality of destitution. And, perhaps, you never truly suffered it, when your sister was there to cushion you at every turn, protect you from the hardships of lessened wealth. And now, it seems, the wheel has turned again, laid anchor with poverty as before, and been beaten at its game. While you hold a flame so bright, with naivete as its name, the credit is not yours to take, a cost you can not claim.  Yet, for this loss, your rose tinted glasses are not necessary. Why would they be when you have found yourself in a place of such renown to work and live, a mentor held in reverence. You have flown the coop with such aplomb, and reached such heady heights. 

Spare a thought for your dear sister though, of course we must, for tragedy has struck her a harsh blow. Thus you have a job twicefold, to ensure her happiness, and more than that to bring her hope. First you must restore her confidence in love for trust again to bloom. And, as your employ is with Aphrodite, you are sure the task will be easily met. Perhaps you should have accounted for the risk that lovers take, might recognise the urge to move against such plight, might realise you have pinned your hope to hate.  Yet you were always blind by youth, by innocence, to fate.