𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐋  𝐉𝐈   for   𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒚𝒉𝒒𝒔

[ocurses]

             ( cis male / park jimin / he/him ) HANUEL JI is a SHADOW KNIGHT hailing from the kingdom of WHELDRAKE. The TWENTY FIVE year old is travelling to the council summit because they believe in PEACE. They HAVE NOT lost their magic and possess the ability of SHADOW MAGIC. HE is CONFIDENT, GENEROUS but also PARANOID. i wonder if they’ll get what they want at the summit? 

born far wheldrake’s capitol in the freshwater marshes. parents were soldiers and occasional fishermen   —   they lost their shadow magic before he was born, but were devout in respecting ancestors and communicating with the dead. war came in waves, and when his parents decided to join ranks again he was sent into the city to live with his uncle 

his uncle hadn’t lost his magic, and served as a low-ranked and poor military advisor. hanuel found better company in the slums. magic-less users who got by wit and brawn led by a court sorcerer fallen from grace after his powers vanished. long story short  —   when hanuel came into his own powers, his new “family” recruited him into a thieving guild and bam, hanuel’s getting a slew of lessons in magic, deception, and stealth. 

of course they’re busted, and by this time hanuel’s old enough to receive some punishment. salvation comes in the dwindling number of magic users in wheldrake, and hanuel trades a service in chains for a service in arms. after several years, he’s proven useful enough to move up the ranks into the elite squad of shadow knights. a relatively fresh recruit, he’s eager to prove he’s worth keeping. 

WANTS : true community , friendship without strings , personal glory , affirmation .

DESIRES : visit other foreign lands , keep his magic , learn to read / write more fluently

POWERS : ability to create a companion shadow for a short period of time , dark-vision , communicate with the dead , can create a small shadow blade 

CONNECTIONS :

past, established : someone he’s stolen from in the past , enemies of his former guild , asks him to communicate with a passed relative , mentor in shadow magic , a former meet-cute lover ( any gender or location ) , “friend” he betrayed and they meet again ( friends - enemies - ? ) , he definitely “got rid of” someone they loved OR hated , shadow magic mentor

new experiences :  he hears gossip about them and they catch him ,  someone who seems fishy , academic mentors , playmates ( he likes games ! theater ! costumes ! all those delights he never experienced growing up ) ,  new sparring partner , he’s got a crushhhh ( and it probably won’t lead anywhere but pls ) , he misjudges them ! let it lead to disaster somehow ! , an unlikely friend 

[ocurses]

             ( cis male / park jimin / he/him ) HANUEL JI is a SHADOW KNIGHT hailing from the kingdom of WHELDRAKE. The TWENTY FIVE year old is travelling to the council summit because they believe in PEACE. They HAVE NOT lost their magic and possess the ability of SHADOW MAGIC. HE is CONFIDENT, GENEROUS but also PARANOID. i wonder if they’ll get what they want at the summit? 

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[ocurses]

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wanna break my soul in two cause i would die to give what i take

[ocurses]

drippinggcld·:

brows raised at his apparent mockery of the council, but she couldn’t help but laugh. she didn’t know much of them, her family never speaking kindly of them because they apparently lacked the ceren nouv numbers to make a difference, yet here she was, in their kingdom, at their mercy. 

“by far the best i’ve seen.” she mused, a light smile over her features before he rose the topic of food. she stiffened lightly, she’d been offered food from two men this evening and she wasn’t meant to take from anyone other than her own ladies, who were seemingly nowhere to be found. “I- uh–” she chuckled, as if to throw off the discomfort in her tone. “I’m meant to have a taster, still. apparently after assassinations in the family, people worry about what one puts on their tongue.” she licked her cherry lips, looking over the mango held out, ripe for the taking. “I am starving however…” she hadn’t eaten since she arrived, there wasn’t time to. “if you’re from wheldrake, which i’m assuming from your attire, I should be able to put my trust in you, regarding fruit, no?” it seemed a silly topic, but she had to be cautious. “being betrothed to your king means something in this case, correct?” after her various conversations with others from the kingdom, her fear in them had somewhat subsided, but there was still terror in her at her core. 

          he grins. “years of practice.” hanuel watches her mull over the offering, hears the note of unsurity. wonders what she’ll choose when he cuts of a piece of the chunk and pops it between his mouth. the flavor’s a burst of brightness on his tongue.

she asks a question, and he blinks as if to hear it again. she’s the princess. younger than he expected, but the gown she wears is gold spun into silk —  melting under the candlelight, cut stylish and expensive. hanuel should’ve known. “that depends on you, your highness,” hanuel holds her gaze. “do you trust easily?” still, he holds out the mango. sweeps the look in his eyes back to something coy and playful when he says, “i’ve always preferred weddings to funerals. better food. kinder shadows.” his legs swing down from the sill to kick free, black leather shined to perfection. “if i wanted to murder you over fruit, it’d be a pitiful tale for us both. now, that means something to me.”

[ocurses]

drippinggcld·:

his act- not unlike one she’d see in her own court, but she didn’t know this gentleman spoke like he were in tune with the waves of the universe, lyrical and light, something she hadn’t heard since being here. the smile over her features was light as she watched him, general interest in him as he teased about a love affair with fruit. a light laugh emerged her chest, as she shook her head. “i do believe you’ll have to join the council at this rate. I’m not so sure they like long term residents otherwise.” she hummed with a smile. “i can’t say i’ve seen anyone else this happy to be here.”

           hanuel sucks out the seeds to crush them between his teeth. messy, but he’s clean with a swipe of his tongue and a wipe on his sleeve. “bah —  how hard could it be? comfortable robes, a bit of candle smoke.” he pulls his legs beneath him in a meditative stance. pretends to close his eyes and listen to the room around. it’s not unlike his own prayers. in his best imitation of a powerful, deeper voice, he hums, “the spirits say . . . don’t do that.” 

he cracks an eye open. “how’d i do?” and then he’s unfolding his legs, tossing the pomegranate rind onto a neat little stack he’s created. “have you tried the food? hard to feel another way with a belly this full.” there’s a ceren nouv lilt to her sound, as silver as the plates they dine on, no doubt. maybe she doesn’t understand —  hanuel doubts many here would. he plucks another fruit— a mango. flips a knife around to stab to the pit, slices a chunk away to offer her. “here. have.” 

[ocurses]

           boredom washed over her, standing at the side of the filled hall with goblet in one hand and little to entertain her otherwise. orlaith knew a good party, and while this was adequate, was it really the best the watchers could offer? where were the performers? where were the fire dancers? were they just meant to dance and drink and that was it?  she gave a sigh, as the air beside her shifted. “enjoying the festivities?” it was a pleasant enough tone considering she had little idea as to who many people were or where they hailed from.

            there shouldn’t be time to waste   —   and there isn’t, hanuel supposes, licking juice from his fingertips as he watches the crowd. eyes always open, ears alert, catching fearful glances and judgmental glowers alike from the promenades around. it’s a lull in the drum-song of war, but no less captivating. sitting on a windowsill, he watches parries and listens to cannon-fire words. 

“of course,” he says simply. the most obvious answer in the world. hanuel twirls a pomegranate in his hands before he cradles it close to his cheek, a precious, tart thing. “i’ve found love. a story for the bards.” he sighs, blissfully happy, and sinks his teeth in for a bite. his lips are red and wet when he speaks again—   “send the marshes my regrets, i’ve found my forever home now.”

[ocurses]

            ( @ofshadownyx​ )   —   hanuel finds his captain somewhere between the tenth dance of the night and the sixth bejeweled silverware he’s slipped into a fold of his tunic. he’s wearing a new batch of bangles, hoping nyx doesn’t notice where they’re hidden under a sleeve. . 

“i have news,” he chirps, riding high on the excitement and tension that runs the night hot. everyone’s taunt and sharp-smiled under all of his candlelight. not a shadow to hide behind and yet hanuel glows. “there’s at least a half-dozen undercover lovers in the waitstaff  —  what a busy bunch these nobles are.” he nods to a pretty woman carrying a gold tray of baked goodies, “cruel, too. she’s broken-hearted and pregnant. a sailor’s, likely.” he wrinkles his nose, “she smells of salt. i’ll learn a name soon.”  

[ocurses]

dcwnings·:

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆  her  features  as  smooth  as  possible,  a  hint  of  a  smile  to  look  friendly  and  approachable  to  all  as  she  glided  through  the  hall,  observing  the  finery  and  cuisine  laid  out  for  them  to  enjoy.  so  far,  tianrie  had  found  most  of  her  entertainment  in  the  ale  and  meade,  fingers  reaching  for  another  goblet  full  when  she  realized  there  was  another  seemingly  about  to  do  the  same.  “  apologies.  would  you  like  this  one ? ”  

           hanuel has the decency to look sheepish. “actually, yes. i would.” brown eyes sparkling, he leans forward to whisper conspiratorially, “you see  —  the shadows said to me now: you won’t like this ale as much as you’ve liked the others.” he straightens and the cobalt bands wrapped around the black sleeves of his tunic catch a wicked glint of candlelight when he takes the goblet for himself. “i’m saving you. truly.” and then from the bottom of the goblet, hanuel’s fingers pluck a little note stuck there. exactly what he was looking for. “a-ha!”

[jjiminssi]

he’s stunning, so stunning