EpicPollon

Name: Nikeadora “foreboding of the emperor” Devon Age: 26 Background: The hatchlings scuttle their way across the early morning sand. So preoccupied in their task, oblivious to the world around them. It is a foolish choice for a sea turtle, to expose yourselves to all the hazards, all for one single minded purpose. A purpose, only few of you will come to realize. Nikeadora could, should she will it, pluck their very existence from them. And why shouldn’t she? Hope is a fickle dream, should not such an endangered species be wiped finally from the face of the earth, for but sheer ignorance alone? Here they scurry, awkwardly, in the presence of the alpha predator and yet they act upon their focus in the exact same way. Even the shark stay amongst the coral until they are able to thrive, become the terror of the deep, yet they start in hiding, biding their time. And these frail things, a complete disregard for their survival. Complete idiots... Yet as she sits there, stomach growling and revolting at the same time with hunger versus the very idea of fighting famine with these bite sized morsels; she hears. Hears nothing. No birds flock to the scene as they normally would, no mammals or amphibians lining the shores, making the most of the buffet at their disposal. The very notion of it all hits her, resurfacing the memory of the capsize wave that sent her lieutenant to his watery grave. These small creatures, so new to the world, and yet they are more attune than even she. Attune in her alpha presence that has struck reserve in the common beasts that would normally scour the shoreline, keeping them at bay and to her own ignorance, facilitating the survival of these creatures. How acute the metaphor strikes her, her very life. The similarities in all the differences, theming ironically in ignorance. Well... her past life. Fighting off the headache and the thirst, second only to the lingering pain marring the meat of her palms. The scarring, flamed red from the salt of the ocean, crusting marks she has been branded with. The cruel joke of her captors. She wished she could have had the last laugh, as their ship went under, as her and her first surfaced from the brig amongst the chaos. But in the aftermath, she couldn’t bring herself to find anything but a bitter tasting humour in it all. For years she fought for the emperor. Her small, nimble ship, providing tactical support and scouting. Disappearing in the dawn and resurfacing from even the most improbable circumstances. There were many who would have revelled to see her turned traitor, there were rumours enough across the ports. And in this moment, the marks, so taboo in a world where your condemnation would sooner see you strung up than marked. Still, these would assure she was not entertained amongst those she had served so long, so true heartedly. Would see her only acceptance among the very filth and scum she could not bear to breathe the same air. She should sooner meet their taunts and end her own life. Shamed in life, rejected in death. To be killed by one side or the other undoubtedly. Unable to survive in solitude, hopeless. Unless perhaps you are the sea turtle... When your survival starts today, and to triumph means to outlive and out thrive all around you.

Great group if people I have been RP’ing with for awhile in different games. If you join up, you are sure to get quality RP and have a great time. They are always pushing progress and maxxing out the story to include everyone and stay exciting. 10/10 would play here.