Serenity De Warrenné on RolePlayer.me - www.roleplayer.me/kurenai_akatsuki Serenity De Warrenné
“To be a knight in this era mademoiselle, is very near to insanity.”

Female
32 years old
Sŏul, Sŏul
Korea (South)

Last Login:
September 27 2022

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Storylines: Mature Themes (18+)

Verses: Fantasy, Crossovers

Style: Multi-Para/Novella RP

Seeking New Roleplays/Storylines.

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Body type:No Answer
Occupation:Gypsy, Truth Seeker, Assassin
Height:0"0'
Characters: Serenity De Warrenne, Serenity Akatsuki, Ari Catalena
Verses: Skyrim, Dragon Age, Assassin
Length: Multi Para, Novella, Para
Genre: Action, Ancient, Drama, Fantasy, Romance, Supernatural,
Member Since:January 18, 2014




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Serenity De'Warrenné.
Name: Serenity De'Warrenné (/səˈrenədē//dēː//wärən//nā/)
Alias: Shalel
Race: Immortal (human-appearance)
Eyes & Hair: Silvery Teal and Golden Brown
Origin World: Liminacia
Dreamscape: Alternative World
Language: Liminacian, Common, Draconic, Elvhen, Other
Powers: Aerokinesis, Dimensiokinesis, Read Auras, Healing
Weapons: Gate of Gales, Gate of Dark Wind, Spirit-Katana
Skills: Swordsmanship, Alchemy
Occupation: Gate Keeper, Scholar, Wanderer, Protector
Status: N/A
Animal Manifestation: Espeon with a Kitsune tail.


Origins.
Beginnings.
Born within the world of Liminacia and the daughter of the God of Liminal Space, Serenity was born with the power to wield the element of air, pull energy from different dimensions, and cross gates. With these gifts, she rose to claim the title of the Gate Keeper of Gales and Dark Wind within her world and the realms she stepped across. Her mission as her peers to keep worlds connected to Liminacia. Ensuring the continued existence of different worlds and that their balance remained. That the fabric of space and time remained intact.

Liminacia.
A world that is a pathway of liminal space and in betweens. A dimension that is the center of where all the fabrics of different realms and worlds touch. Here is where one crosses through gates of time, space, and to reach different dimensions and realms.

Alternate.
A dreamscape created by a select group of Gate Keepers as a safe space for their souls to rest in sleep or death. A part of the dreaming that no demon nor wicked creature can reach.

The Gates of Air & Wind.
A Gate is a door from another dimension where ability and energy can be summoned by a Gate Keeper. To be born special with the ability to summon a gate comes with a heavy price, either the prolonging or suddenness of death, depending on the wielder and the race of the Gate Keeper. The Gate of Gales is considered to be among the most powerful of the Gates, also Gate of the Dark Wind is just as powerful as the Gate of Gales but is its darkest form.

Present.
That is where our story begins...






Who I'd like to meet:

    More Roleplayers
Kai

Johnny Dean.

𝑃𝑆𝑌𝐶𝐻𝑂 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑,

⊰𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊⊱

Oliver

▆ ▇ █ ʙᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ

.

Bay Kennish Vasquez

Kain [BMD]

Monah do dovahhe

Walking Encyclopedia

Kouji.

Gingersnaps

αяι ωιи¢нєѕтєя (ѕ&иℓ)

Mr. G

Roland.

ᴼᵘᵗ ᴼᶠ ᵀⁱᵐᵉ.

spider—boo

ᴿᵉᵖᵉᶰᵗᵃᶰᶜᵉ

ɴɪɢʜᴛᴡɪɴɢ

ᵖˢʸᶜʰᵒᵗⁱᶜ ᶜʰᵉʳʳʸ🍒

ᴘʀᴏᴍɪɴᴇɴᴛ sᴏʀᴄᴇʀᴇʀ

reғυѕe pιllѕ

ᴹⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵒˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ

𝒢en.

𝘛𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴

𝕯ᴏᴍɪɴɪᴄ.

Damian Priest (T&E) Jezika

Never Back Down

Dark Reign

𝐚𝐫𝐢. ☾

gods gift.

Open gay male

Talia.

яυи αωαу тєєиαgєя

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘢.

The 11th Doctor

Aɳɠҽʅιƈ Pʂყƈԋσ|T&L| Mikayla

╳ H E D S T R Ö M

Beck




Serenity De Warrenné's Friends Comments
Displaying 4 of 4 Comments (View All | Add Comment)
🔥Ⱥղժҽɾʂ🔥

Aug 24th 2022 - 9:52 PM


I
It had been a hard day’s work at the sawmill. Honren had recently finished his chores for the day and collected his pouch of gold from the Master. It was a few more coins in his pocket and soon most to go to his savings. He had his eyes set on a passage overseas lately, and he couldn’t really sell himself for what most would consider a fair trade. True, he had muscle enough to be a sailor’s hand, but he was also a dwarf and that height did weigh against him when compared to other deck hands that were sought for hire. None of that would have mattered though, if only Honren had enough money…

All he could think on were ways of obtaining more coin. He needed it in order to reach his son … or daughter. In truth, Honren didn’t know of which that it were. He had given up long ago on his search for his wife. Honren would have sooner believed that his beloved had died...or that she hate him so much that she simply refused to ever see him again. Either way, surely she was gone to him for good.

He stared longingly after the boats whenever, at last someone had caught his eye. The individual was nothing like Honren had ever seen before, and she came from the boat that Honren had his sights on purchasing his ride upon. The woman had to be his daughter. He was certain of it. He could tell from the way her strong chin was held so defiantly high, that she had the blood of a dwarf within her. Honren could practically see Ember’s stubbornness in his face already; or at least of what he believed that he remembered of her.

“Thrask!” He called to her with tears of joy in his eyes. “Oh, Thrask!”

He raised his stone heavy arms and ran with stubby legs over towards the docks. His heavy armor was clamoring away as he ran for this stranger who he instantly believed to be his family. Honren couldn’t leap over the carriages that came down the road and into his way, so he had to stop, but it was only for a brief moment. He bristled past people, knocking some back into the ocean on accident as his heavy steps came thundering down the docks. Once he came close to the female, Honren collided to the stranger’s leg like a stone against the trunk of a tree and bounced backwards on his butt. He pulled himself back up and started to carefully stand; for his joints were well-worn from the day’s previous work.

“I never thought this day would come, but I had always hoped. I prayed to the ancestors—” He started to say and slowly looked up at the tall woman as high as his small neck could stretch. It was then, that he realized just how very tall that she was in comparison to himself. “—The ancestors… By the Ancestors! Look how you’ve grown, Thrask! Oh, House Dace is going to love you!”

Life is made of ever so many partings welded together
Elven Commander

Mar 12th 2022 - 1:01 AM


Thank you accepting my add. I am looking forward to seeing what we can come up with. This is a small rundown on what major choices my warden has done/accomplished in Origins/Awakening
- He saved Dog during Ostagar (who wouldn't save an animal after all?).
- He persuaded the Revered Mother in Lothering to let Sten out and brought him along for the Blight. He also believed Leliana when she said she was sent by the Maker.
- Despite Zevran trying to kill him my Warden keeps him alive (and later on he's my character's romance choice but that won't really pertain to our storyline).
- In the end he doesn't kill Loghain. He makes him a Grey Warden which causes Alistair to be pissed. My Alistair was hardened so I was able to make him King of Fereldan alongside Anora. - We fought Flemeth for her grimoire in my playthrough.
- He did not defile the ashes of Andraste and used the mages in the circle to keep Isolde and Connor both alive.
- He brokered peace between the Dalish Elf and the wolves (curing the humans of their affliction and bringing the Keeper to 'justice' so to speak)
- He did not allow the Rite of Annulment to be called upon the Circle of Magi.
- He choose Harrowmont to rule Orzammar. After the crown was created by the Anvil of the Void he managed to talk Branka into destroying it instead of letting it continue
- He survives the archdemon. He participated in the ritual with Morrigan. He was the one to cut off the head of the Archdemon.
- He left the Architect alive during and after the battle with the Mother.
- He defended the City of Amaranthine when it was attacked by Darkspawn.
- Nathaniel was spared and let go where he later on joined the Warden. Oghren was recruited into the Wardens. Anders was spared and recruited into the Wardens.

And off the top of my head that is all I can remember of the games and their major choices or what I felt was a major choice. Just a little something to keep in mind when we are roleplaying to know what kind of Warden my character is. I just wanted to give you a little info and get some in return of your character that way I can send a starter to you
Tinker Dwarf

Aug 20th 2020 - 1:34 PM


It had been raining outside for hours now.  Not that ghouls felt much of the temperature of the weather anymore.  Perhaps it was just the memory that really seemed to spark feelings of unpleasantness to life.  That feeling of cold and wet rainwater splashing down to soak into one’s clothes; leaving them heavy and only adding to the feeling that was close to freezing.  Hanc*ck was glad to be where it was warm and dry.  The building that he found was surprisingly still in tact.  Luckily, he had already made it to the building before the rain really began to pour.  

Plus, in here, it was safe – well, safe for someone like him.  It looked the remnants of an old library that might have once been used as a stake-out for bandits or maybe some survivors at some point.  Hanc*ck had been in worse places; places that were out in the open and in alleyways.  There were not many problems or worries left for a ghoul to consider.  They were already infected with the current virus and radiation that poisoned the entire world.  Normally, they did not harm one another either.  There was the occasional wild dog or super mutant here or there, but over-all, it wasn’t that bad.  What ghouls normally had to worry about were only other humans or possible other forms of “hunters” who would go out of their way to kill the infected just to be safe.  Not that Hanc*ck really blamed them.  It was survival of the fittest, in most cases these days, and he was no stranger to killing the feral ghoul threatening him or others.  However, that did not make him any less aware of his place in the world.

“You guys don’t mind if I take a swig of this for a bit, do ya?”  He asked and pulled out a long blue bottle of whiskey.  

The hallow blackness in his eyes looked at two other feral ghouls and weird person that actually didn’t have a head, but instead, it was some kind of fungus growing out of it.  Hanc*ck had never seen anything like it before, but he had no fear of the diseased being – nor did he pick up any hostility from it in return.  Much like the two feral ghouls sitting next to it, the fungus man was merely standing idle in a corner.  And groaning.   The fire from the make-shift campfire crackled and burned while the flames licked around the wooden chairs which had been chosen for its fuel.  The fungus creature raised its weird clicking-groans a few times, and every once in a while, had rushed towards the fire but then stopped short.  Perhaps it did feel some sense of pain somewhere – or maybe it was a sense of heat from the fire.  Either way, it was wary and that wariness seemed to have temporarily calmed it down in periodic cycles.

"Look, I don’t like to waste bullets.  So, how about you three just stay on your side for the night and I’ll stay on mine.  Ya got that?”  Hanc*ck gave a lazy ultimatum then and c*cked the bottom handle of his double barrel, sawed off shotgun.  “And just so you don’t think I’ll be losing my edge any time soon, I’ll let you guess to how many holes I might just put in ya if any of you think of trying anything.”

The ghouls and strange creature seemed to have ignored his threat but tending to their own buisiness of lurking, groaning, and clicking while they stalked the spots they had already claimed.  That was just how Hanc*ck preferred it just so long as they were not going after him.  He was content to drink more of his whiskey, letting the liquid burn down his throat with memories of happier times to warm the remnants of his body and soul.  He was content to let the creatures live and piddle --- for at best, they served as protection for him and at worst, he’d have to waste ammunition to kill them.  

The two ghouls were feasting on a rotten dog carcass that stunk to the pits of Hell’s Angels.  Even if Hanc*ck didn’t have a nose, he could still smell the rot.  Even taste it.  He was thankful that he didn’t have to eat as he regularly would have done in his past life, otherwise, he might have already spilled any contents from his stomach by now.  The whisky did little to calm these senses, but he had a naïve thought that maybe the alcohol would numb his sensitivity to the stench.  Don’t know why he thought that it would---old habit from an alcoholic, perhaps.
𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘 βӀօօժʍąցҽ™

Sep 1st 2018 - 5:28 PM


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