Post by Calavel on Feb 6, 2011 10:41:52 GMT -5
((Kat. This is what I sent to Khaz a few weeks ago, and I appreciate you ‘filling-in’ for her. As you probably know, Calavel originally approached Jembah for a recommendation of an able-bodied female to assassinate his brother, Brecken Shadowquell. This brother not only screwed his family over, but his antics led to the untimely death of their sister, and contributed to the ultimate demise of their father.
Calavel specified a female assassin because, in his borderline-sociopathic mind, he imagined his brother dying in the throes of passion - with the very assassin that would kill him.
Calavel has a letter for Kat outlining what he wants done, and how. It’s a bit adult for the proboards, so I will send it to you via email, and perhaps we can dumb-down a version for the Proboards storyboard.
I thought I would present some details of Brecken Shadowquell (Calavel’s brother) in a creative way, as though you spied on him in stealth. Gives you a bit of his personality and some other details to play with/incorporate. Thanks again.
BTW, what I have gleaned of her personality, this gig is something she would enjoy – as long as it’s OK with Jembah *wink*))
A handsome Quel’dorei exits a small abode and strides confidently down the cobblestoned streets of Stormwind, an image of grace and perfection like so many of his race. Behind him, a disheveled girl lingers in the doorway, a look of mild distress or anxiety on her pretty face. Her hands are balled into loose fists and she fidgets with her shift.
“You WILL call me, won’t you, Brecken?” she hollers, her voice echoing through the empty morning air. He smirks and gives no more than a curt wave as he continues determinately down the street.
Moments later another beauty, out for her morning errands, catches his eye. He gives her a lingering smile and a wink, stopping momentarily to admire her lithe figure as she wafts past him.
“Mmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmm,” he hums to himself, smacking his lips together, as if devouring her like a well-aged piece of cheese. “A FINE morning, indeed.”
A gentle breeze stirs his ebony hair, bunched loosely in a ponytail. His 6’4” figure ducks into an alley and converses with a veiled form, who offers him a small vial in exchange for a handful of coin. This he stashes into his pocket, but only after pressing it to his nostril and inhaling deeply. His eyes are glassy as he emerges back into the sunlight of the main thoroughfare.
A carriage passes him in the narrow portion of the street, forcing him into the gutter momentarily to avoid collision. “f*ck-head,” he slurs, motioning obscenely.
“Brecken!” an annoyed voice bellows from behind him, its source hidden in the recess of a shoddy doorway.
The Quel’dorei closes his eyes and freezes at the thundering bawl. “sh*t,” he mutters to himself, turning and retracing his steps to the dwelling in question, where an imposing figure fills the entire doorway.
“Mr. Blackwell! Always a pleasure to…”
The obese figure stammers, clearly short of breath. “Shut it, Shadowquell! The last thing -- I need this morning ---is any of your bullsh*t. Where ---the f*ck is my rent?”
“Yes…THAT. I was just about to…”
“You were just about to---NOTHING, you Quel’dorei ---piece of sh*t! I know you ---better than your mama---so cut the crap already.”
Brecken nods, his eyes pinned to the damp cobblestones.
The imposing figure pauses. “Lucky for you---I’m in a good mood. I got an errand ---for your Quel’dorei ass.” He pauses, as much for deliberation as necessity. “Might even forget your tardiness---if’n you deliver ---this for me.”
He forces a greasy envelope into the Elf’s palm. “Ivy Leafrunner is---some Kaldorei bitch at ---Emerald Sanctuary in ---Felwood. She’s expectin’ this ---day after tomorrow. No doubt she’ll put you up for the night--- if’n you want.” The obese silhouette chortles. “Keep your sh*t in your pants, Shadowquell. I don’t need ---your dick thinkin’ for you. Got me?!”
Brecken glowers, stuffing the parcel into his pocket. “At your service, Mr. Blackwell, you can count on me,” he retorts as he turns to leave, quelling as much sarcasm from his voice as possible.
Bastard has my balls in a vice, damn it.
Calavel specified a female assassin because, in his borderline-sociopathic mind, he imagined his brother dying in the throes of passion - with the very assassin that would kill him.
Calavel has a letter for Kat outlining what he wants done, and how. It’s a bit adult for the proboards, so I will send it to you via email, and perhaps we can dumb-down a version for the Proboards storyboard.
I thought I would present some details of Brecken Shadowquell (Calavel’s brother) in a creative way, as though you spied on him in stealth. Gives you a bit of his personality and some other details to play with/incorporate. Thanks again.
BTW, what I have gleaned of her personality, this gig is something she would enjoy – as long as it’s OK with Jembah *wink*))
A handsome Quel’dorei exits a small abode and strides confidently down the cobblestoned streets of Stormwind, an image of grace and perfection like so many of his race. Behind him, a disheveled girl lingers in the doorway, a look of mild distress or anxiety on her pretty face. Her hands are balled into loose fists and she fidgets with her shift.
“You WILL call me, won’t you, Brecken?” she hollers, her voice echoing through the empty morning air. He smirks and gives no more than a curt wave as he continues determinately down the street.
Moments later another beauty, out for her morning errands, catches his eye. He gives her a lingering smile and a wink, stopping momentarily to admire her lithe figure as she wafts past him.
“Mmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmm,” he hums to himself, smacking his lips together, as if devouring her like a well-aged piece of cheese. “A FINE morning, indeed.”
A gentle breeze stirs his ebony hair, bunched loosely in a ponytail. His 6’4” figure ducks into an alley and converses with a veiled form, who offers him a small vial in exchange for a handful of coin. This he stashes into his pocket, but only after pressing it to his nostril and inhaling deeply. His eyes are glassy as he emerges back into the sunlight of the main thoroughfare.
A carriage passes him in the narrow portion of the street, forcing him into the gutter momentarily to avoid collision. “f*ck-head,” he slurs, motioning obscenely.
“Brecken!” an annoyed voice bellows from behind him, its source hidden in the recess of a shoddy doorway.
The Quel’dorei closes his eyes and freezes at the thundering bawl. “sh*t,” he mutters to himself, turning and retracing his steps to the dwelling in question, where an imposing figure fills the entire doorway.
“Mr. Blackwell! Always a pleasure to…”
The obese figure stammers, clearly short of breath. “Shut it, Shadowquell! The last thing -- I need this morning ---is any of your bullsh*t. Where ---the f*ck is my rent?”
“Yes…THAT. I was just about to…”
“You were just about to---NOTHING, you Quel’dorei ---piece of sh*t! I know you ---better than your mama---so cut the crap already.”
Brecken nods, his eyes pinned to the damp cobblestones.
The imposing figure pauses. “Lucky for you---I’m in a good mood. I got an errand ---for your Quel’dorei ass.” He pauses, as much for deliberation as necessity. “Might even forget your tardiness---if’n you deliver ---this for me.”
He forces a greasy envelope into the Elf’s palm. “Ivy Leafrunner is---some Kaldorei bitch at ---Emerald Sanctuary in ---Felwood. She’s expectin’ this ---day after tomorrow. No doubt she’ll put you up for the night--- if’n you want.” The obese silhouette chortles. “Keep your sh*t in your pants, Shadowquell. I don’t need ---your dick thinkin’ for you. Got me?!”
Brecken glowers, stuffing the parcel into his pocket. “At your service, Mr. Blackwell, you can count on me,” he retorts as he turns to leave, quelling as much sarcasm from his voice as possible.
Bastard has my balls in a vice, damn it.
I can't wait to see where this goes.))
Founded April 26, 2005