Lazy Days by ~EPIC-FAILXD
Sora and Corvo worked a lot. They both had things to do, and keeping the pub in working order was a job in itself. Sora was busy training the empire’s soldiers, mapping their advancements and withdrawals and making strategies (Working for Ulfric all those years was finally paying off). Corvo was obviously protecting Emily tirelessly for most of the day. They rarely saw eachother, collapsing into their shared bed only to find it empty of the other, waking to see them there but having to leave in a hurry. Passing on the stairs, actually seeing eachother before bed, even just sharing Samuel’s little boat together on the way to work were treasured moments.
Piero gave them the idea. Sora would mark two or three days and inform her closest soldiers to guard Emily for the day, and Corvo would press the young empress into a hug before boarding the boat back to the Pub. ‘Relief Days’, Sora called them. And they were bliss. Waking up AND falling asleep to eachother, sharing breakfast, stargazing. Cuddling under the blankets with tea.
Simple things. Special things.
—
Corvo Attano (c) Dishonoured
Mother of Galaxies. The bar rests heavy on her shoulders, bearing the weight of a thousand stars.
PostWar by ~EPIC-FAILXD
This is for an RP group I’m part of called BeyonD. Based in a post apocalyptic setting, scientists have experimented on certain humans who participated in The M.E. Project, and created the Forgiven; humans with powers. Pyrokinetics, Cell Tisuue Regeneration, Telekinesis, Clairvoyance. These powers come at a price however. The facility was overturned some time ago, and the main governing force, The Liberators, is now on the hunt for the Forgiven, hell-bent on driving them to extinction. Sora is one of the last.
—
NAME : Sora ‘Demios’ Nightray
AGE : 29
GENDER : Female
SPECIES : Forgiven
PERSONALITY :
- Determined: Once she has her mind set to something, it’s difficult to deter her. She’ll use any means possible to achieve her ends, and half the time it would appear to others that she has almost no pride, honor or remorse.
- Secretive: Growing up outcasted, Sora wasn’t the type to be open, and this has followed her for a while. She has a notorious reputation for lying to cover up things she’d rather not speak of.
- Irritable: Sora doesn’t like dealing with people. She’s easily frustrated and annoyed, even if she hides it. She’s prone to lashing out if it gets too much.
- Solitary: Assassins typically work alone, and Sora has adapted to this. She finds it hard to adjust in large groups, and even struggles with just another person. She finds it hard to make conversation because of this. If she likes you, you’ll know.
HISTORY :
- Sora was born far away from the wastes, but moved with her father after her parent’s divorce at age 5. Originally in with the nobility, she came to a lower class background, with regular brawls and gunfights on the streets by her home. She was a small, weak kid to begin with, and the other kids used this to their advantage. Sora picked up parkour shortly after, learning from an older boy who lived across the street that had seen her being chased by the neighborhood bully. Home life was never eventful, though the one thing that struck her as odd was the fact that her father never wanted to talk about her mother, or her siblings. He was a loving father though, and always tried to do his best for his daughter. When she was 17, he was shot and killed on his way home, dying before any help could even arrive. She was chosen for the M.E program shortly after. She doesn’t really remember what happened during that time, just that there was a lot of pain and fear. She was picked up by Marcus Howard (a then talent seeker/trainer from the Vipers Agency, who became a manager 2 years later after some… incidents), soon after losing her home to bandits at age 23. The only things she had managed to salvage were a guitar, some books and her father’s dogtags from his time in the Peace Corps, which she now wears. Looking through his records with the help of Marcus and some of his shadier colleagues, she discovered the last post he had held before he left the Corps was where he met her mother. She was posted there by Marcus, who could see she was itching to dig up some information on her family. Sleeping through the day and killing into the early hours is her routine, with research into her past and family slotted in where it will fit. She lives in a half-blasted out apartment on a riverbank with her current manager, Malik D’kai. Her body count is exceptional for a newcomer, and her lack of restraints makes her deadly, not to mention she’s young, pretty and (as far as Marcus thinks) emotionally vunerable. Marcus sees her as a valuable asset and a potential toy, and would have to be hard-pressed to even think of letting her leave his agency.
ADDITIONAL INFO :
- Sora covers her right eye with her fringe after being given some serious scars from a rival agency. It’s still fully functional - It just doesn’t look pretty, and Malik thinks she’ll just scare clients even more with it uncovered .
- She’s approx 5’2” in height, and often gets laughed at for being short. While it does hinder her parkour abilities, it’s useful for entering vents, pipes and other small spaces that are ideal for hidden kills .
- She’s aware she has two older brothers, but doesn’t know their names, locations, or even if they’re still alive .
- S ora was only ever taught to use two guns - Her PSG1 A1 rifle and two Jericho 941 handguns. Due to the limited time he spent training her, Marcus only taught her about the weapons he thought she’d need, assuming she knew how to use a knife already (She didn’t - that was left up to Malik) .
- Sora has the ability to regenerate cell tissue, due to her being one of the Forgiven. She uses this rarely - cancerous tumours are something an assassin can do without.
- She sometimes has nightmares about her time in M.E. Headquarters. They often leave her completely disorientated and panicked; sometimes she wakes screaming.
- She has a huge fear of water and drowning. She can’t swim either, and will try to avoid water at all costs. Getting her to bathe is a struggle, but she’s better in the shower.
—
BeyonD Concept and Backstory (c) A friend.
Sora (c) me.
![La La La by ~EPIC-FAILXD
“When your words mean nothing I go La La La.”She waited carefully on the white-suited man’s approval. He nodded once, and she began, concentrating all her efforts into repairing the sliver of a cut on her arm. It stopped bleeding, and a scar appeared, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t get rid of the mark on her skin. Why not? She’d gotten rid of the others. “She’s still weak,” the man in white muttered to a group of adults who had come to watch her. She didn’t see what was so special about her, or her ability. Mending cuts and bruises wasn’t anything new, it happened on it’s own. All she did was make it happen faster. So why the interest? —Eleven years on and she understood the attention, gasping in agony as the knife wedged in her side sank deeper between her ribs. Sliding down the wall of a shadowy alley, her hand scrabbled at her clothes to find the wound. She bit down on her lip to keep from screaming when she found it. She had to do this quick, before it could harm her lungs. She blotted out all else; the panic, the noise, the pain in he side, Malik blaring instructions in her ear, and focused. Her muscles started to mend, pushing the knife out as she worked her way to the surface. It was an agonizingly slow process. Fixing the last layer of skin, the knife hit the floor with a tinny clunk as she leant back against the wall, panting, the sounds of the fight returning to her ears as pained tears spilled over her cheeks. Malik was there again, giving the OK to retreat. But it wasn’t okay. She could hear the line of disappointment in his voice. She nodded, knowing he could see her and leant over, picking up the spent pistol by her side and staggering down the alleyway, the gunshots and screams fading into the distance as she disappeared into the night. —Song: La La La - Naughty Boy ft. Sam Smith [link]BeyonD (c) A FriendSora (c) Me](http://24.media.tumblr.com/dd7704053738ce27a1aec682418f2e91/tumblr_moc24pGj461qhtqe5o1_500.png)
La La La by ~EPIC-FAILXD
“When your words mean nothing I go La La La.”
She waited carefully on the white-suited man’s approval. He nodded once, and she began, concentrating all her efforts into repairing the sliver of a cut on her arm. It stopped bleeding, and a scar appeared, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t get rid of the mark on her skin. Why not? She’d gotten rid of the others. “She’s still weak,” the man in white muttered to a group of adults who had come to watch her. She didn’t see what was so special about her, or her ability. Mending cuts and bruises wasn’t anything new, it happened on it’s own. All she did was make it happen faster. So why the interest?
—
Eleven years on and she understood the attention, gasping in agony as the knife wedged in her side sank deeper between her ribs. Sliding down the wall of a shadowy alley, her hand scrabbled at her clothes to find the wound. She bit down on her lip to keep from screaming when she found it. She had to do this quick, before it could harm her lungs. She blotted out all else; the panic, the noise, the pain in he side, Malik blaring instructions in her ear, and focused. Her muscles started to mend, pushing the knife out as she worked her way to the surface. It was an agonizingly slow process. Fixing the last layer of skin, the knife hit the floor with a tinny clunk as she leant back against the wall, panting, the sounds of the fight returning to her ears as pained tears spilled over her cheeks. Malik was there again, giving the OK to retreat. But it wasn’t okay. She could hear the line of disappointment in his voice. She nodded, knowing he could see her and leant over, picking up the spent pistol by her side and staggering down the alleyway, the gunshots and screams fading into the distance as she disappeared into the night.
—
Song: La La La - Naughty Boy ft. Sam Smith [link]
BeyonD (c) A Friend
Sora (c) Me
