Suzume Nam
![Picture](/uploads/1/7/9/6/17960521/496848209.jpg)
Aura code: F79F81, salmon, pinkish orange
Aura scent: sesame oil
Ability: control of her own memories/ emotions
Age: 18
Kin: some peeps
Tattoo: music note on her foot
she can make herself ignore all of her bad memories and keep herself happy and nice and supportive
super sweet and helpful
humble and respectful to people and always really polite
very open and trusting, no matter who it is.
always smiling and calm in the face of anything. people getting upset around her, or at her don't faze her.
quiet/sneaky about being really stubborn and almost always convincing ppl to let her do what she wants/needs
super ambitious, but not single minded about it.
used to be really cold and calculating and manipulate of people, until she lost someone she loved
now she's still manipulative but she does it in a really nice way so nobody minds, even if they notice
people don't notice though. They overlook her because she's not that powerful and it doesn't look like she could be doing anything.
(she has very important plots and ambitions that I'll figure out sometime)
power/ info/ trying to assassinate somebody/ trying to fight sexism
Suzume is rarely seen without a smile on her face. She's almost always cheerful and ready to laugh, even in the morning. She's generally a sweetheart to everybody she meets, and always tries to be helpful. She's generally very reliable and mature for her age, and always very polite and understanding, even in the ridiculous situations that arise in her school. She's learned it always better to be respectful because the grumpy kid could be going through a hard time, or a demon looking for their next sacrifice. She could definitely be a student ambassador and show new people around or tutor younger students, if she didn't have other activities that take up her time. In her school full of magic, Suzume is not well known, she doesn't have a reputation or any special standing in the class. She's always rather quiet and nice, so she doesn't tend to be very memorable. People overlook her because she's not that powerful and it doesn't look like she could be doing anything. Which is the way she likes it. Suzume is a fairly humble person, but more than that, her self-worth isn't tied to pride, or any drive for recognition; she's good with he few friends she has. Which doesn't mean she's not social. She's very open and trusting of people, more so than many of the people- or beings at her school. She mostly likes bue snowcones, but she's open to other options. Suzume is not just a blob who does nothing but smiles. She's quiet, but very sneaky, and she has effective strategies to get people to do what she wants. She can be pretty stubborn about it too, though not single minded. Her intentions aren't malicious so just by being friendly and giving advice, she can get most things done. Since most of the tings she tries to accomplish are getting her friend to finally ask her crush out, or getting the teacher to let her and her friends off for skipping class, or getting the quiet moody demon kid to stop murdering people. She can be very manipulative about it, but she does it in a really nice way. She used to be much colder and crueler in her efforts to get what she wanted, but that made nobody happy. When she lost the person she loved it made her reevaluate her life, and she changed. Its such a reversal that somebody from three years ago would never recognize her. This transformation was made though her powers. She has complete control of her own mind. She can lock up and ignore bad memories and negative feelings, so she's easily able to be happy and supportive. She comes from a family of telepaths, and she used to be so bitter about not being able to read or control other minds, that she refused to use her powers for anything helpful out of spite. But now the only way she can be happy is if she ignores her past, so she does. Now nothing fazes her. She's used to it all, and people getting upset around her don't faze her at all. She's not uncaring, but she's very chill and tries to stay positive. Its so easy for her, since she can literally make herself forget that she has anything to be sad about.
She comes from a family/clan of telepaths who fight evil or something dramatic
her powers never showed up so everyone thought she was a dud
turns out instead of reading/controlling other ppls minds, she can control her own mind
she was really spiteful cuz she hated being the one left out, so she refused to use her powers for anything useful, even after she found she had 'em.
She still (kinda) helped with the family business, but since she didn't have any powers she was really crude about it and got a lot of pent of anger issues so she started being really cruel and violent.
and she took it to far and ended up fucking up and somebody died (like she accidentally killed some random by-passer) so her family kicked her out.
So then she had to deal with her issues, and her powers came in handy. She made herself forget and ignore all of her bad memories and bitterness about not liking her powers.
so now she no longer has any reason to be mean or angsty, and she can keep herself happy and nice and supportive
she's pretty quiet and calm. She's seen it all so a lot fo things don't faze her, and she can control her reactions, even if she does freak out.
will still beat a bitch up to get what she wants- but she'll be calm and calculating about it now
usually tho she'll just try to make friends with people and ask them to do what she wants
she's pretty stubborn and ambitious, but not single minded about it. She can be patient and just wait for stuff to happens. And she's not competitive about stuff.
She's a good lil worker bee who gets shit done
Aura scent: sesame oil
Ability: control of her own memories/ emotions
Age: 18
Kin: some peeps
Tattoo: music note on her foot
she can make herself ignore all of her bad memories and keep herself happy and nice and supportive
super sweet and helpful
humble and respectful to people and always really polite
very open and trusting, no matter who it is.
always smiling and calm in the face of anything. people getting upset around her, or at her don't faze her.
quiet/sneaky about being really stubborn and almost always convincing ppl to let her do what she wants/needs
super ambitious, but not single minded about it.
used to be really cold and calculating and manipulate of people, until she lost someone she loved
now she's still manipulative but she does it in a really nice way so nobody minds, even if they notice
people don't notice though. They overlook her because she's not that powerful and it doesn't look like she could be doing anything.
(she has very important plots and ambitions that I'll figure out sometime)
power/ info/ trying to assassinate somebody/ trying to fight sexism
Suzume is rarely seen without a smile on her face. She's almost always cheerful and ready to laugh, even in the morning. She's generally a sweetheart to everybody she meets, and always tries to be helpful. She's generally very reliable and mature for her age, and always very polite and understanding, even in the ridiculous situations that arise in her school. She's learned it always better to be respectful because the grumpy kid could be going through a hard time, or a demon looking for their next sacrifice. She could definitely be a student ambassador and show new people around or tutor younger students, if she didn't have other activities that take up her time. In her school full of magic, Suzume is not well known, she doesn't have a reputation or any special standing in the class. She's always rather quiet and nice, so she doesn't tend to be very memorable. People overlook her because she's not that powerful and it doesn't look like she could be doing anything. Which is the way she likes it. Suzume is a fairly humble person, but more than that, her self-worth isn't tied to pride, or any drive for recognition; she's good with he few friends she has. Which doesn't mean she's not social. She's very open and trusting of people, more so than many of the people- or beings at her school. She mostly likes bue snowcones, but she's open to other options. Suzume is not just a blob who does nothing but smiles. She's quiet, but very sneaky, and she has effective strategies to get people to do what she wants. She can be pretty stubborn about it too, though not single minded. Her intentions aren't malicious so just by being friendly and giving advice, she can get most things done. Since most of the tings she tries to accomplish are getting her friend to finally ask her crush out, or getting the teacher to let her and her friends off for skipping class, or getting the quiet moody demon kid to stop murdering people. She can be very manipulative about it, but she does it in a really nice way. She used to be much colder and crueler in her efforts to get what she wanted, but that made nobody happy. When she lost the person she loved it made her reevaluate her life, and she changed. Its such a reversal that somebody from three years ago would never recognize her. This transformation was made though her powers. She has complete control of her own mind. She can lock up and ignore bad memories and negative feelings, so she's easily able to be happy and supportive. She comes from a family of telepaths, and she used to be so bitter about not being able to read or control other minds, that she refused to use her powers for anything helpful out of spite. But now the only way she can be happy is if she ignores her past, so she does. Now nothing fazes her. She's used to it all, and people getting upset around her don't faze her at all. She's not uncaring, but she's very chill and tries to stay positive. Its so easy for her, since she can literally make herself forget that she has anything to be sad about.
She comes from a family/clan of telepaths who fight evil or something dramatic
her powers never showed up so everyone thought she was a dud
turns out instead of reading/controlling other ppls minds, she can control her own mind
she was really spiteful cuz she hated being the one left out, so she refused to use her powers for anything useful, even after she found she had 'em.
She still (kinda) helped with the family business, but since she didn't have any powers she was really crude about it and got a lot of pent of anger issues so she started being really cruel and violent.
and she took it to far and ended up fucking up and somebody died (like she accidentally killed some random by-passer) so her family kicked her out.
So then she had to deal with her issues, and her powers came in handy. She made herself forget and ignore all of her bad memories and bitterness about not liking her powers.
so now she no longer has any reason to be mean or angsty, and she can keep herself happy and nice and supportive
she's pretty quiet and calm. She's seen it all so a lot fo things don't faze her, and she can control her reactions, even if she does freak out.
will still beat a bitch up to get what she wants- but she'll be calm and calculating about it now
usually tho she'll just try to make friends with people and ask them to do what she wants
she's pretty stubborn and ambitious, but not single minded about it. She can be patient and just wait for stuff to happens. And she's not competitive about stuff.
She's a good lil worker bee who gets shit done
Iraeil
![Picture](/uploads/1/7/9/6/17960521/691363889.jpg)
Race: Fae a descendant of the high family Tsekra
Weapons and abilities: Iraeil had no instruction in her magic but luckily it manifested itself in a way that she could easily learn herself. She calls it a silver tongue. She can communicate in any language with any creature- fish, cats and dragons alike- and bend them to her will. Talking and charming animals is easy, but the more intelligent, and the more humanoid they are, the harder it gets. Intelligent animals can fight it, which gives them an advantage. But not all humanoids are intelligent. Iraeil’s powers don’t work as well on them because she is not as comfortable. It’s harder for her to charm a dragon in human form than the same one is beast form. Iraeil always has companion creatures around. They are her protection. Her skills are archery and knife throwing. She took advantage of her above average eye-hand-coordination to learn, but in a close range attack, it will be her companions who do a lot of the fighting.
Appearance: Delicate and small for her reputation and position. Iraeil is beautiful in a soft, pale way, with her fine features. Her skin is smooth and light, from under exposure to the sun. She doesn’t tan, but burns and she had enough of burns. The skin running up her right arm and down that side is puckered and pink with scars from burns that will never leave her. She hides that weakness. Not out of shame exactly, she just doesn’t want her people to see the weakness and pain that her enemy has already inflicted on her. The same day that she gained her burns a birthmark appeared on her left side under her ribcage. It was just a rough shape but as the weeks passed since her parents death it clarified into the shape of a bird, a phoenix. Her hair is a similar memento. When let down it falls to the bottom of her back in waves the color of moonlight. Before it was thick and brown, but her trauma turned it silver white when she was still a child. The darkest color in her appearance lost, she turned into a ghost. Now her eyes are the most startling thing about het. They are a bright, piercing blue. They show the fire in her, the rage and love she can hold. Iraeil is thin still, as she has never had the best resources. But she has grown stronger since she left Valentine. She trains more now, building muscles and skills.
Bio: Rebel, traitor, outlaw, they yell at me. They look down and spit on me, but they know nothing. I do not need to be ashamed, I have friends and banner men and people who look up to me and call me Lady, head of the Tsekra, the next Pheonix. The others were there and they choose to forget their dead, to forgive the real traitor; the betrayer of dragons. I did not. I watched my parents’ burn, I saw the wealth of our family melt. That day I could do nothing but run I hid in the cinders and rubble, and I saw the monster and the princess. I watched the Valentino heir treat with Bastion, watched her bow to his will. I watched her do nothing for the people who were supposedly hers. It didn’t take them long to lock her up and put her where she belonged, where she should have rotted. She knew what she had done, how many she had killed. And she presumed to escape? As if she didn't deserve a hundred times worse than what she got! So she destroyed her family, the people who she used to love. She left nothing but rubble and blood, abandoning the desolation she had made. And we were well rid of her. It wasn’t easy living in that ruined kingdom. We were all lost and broken. The kingdom scattered. I was orphaned with nowhere to go and 10 years old. I was taken in by traveling merchants. They brought me to an old fort outside the limits of the kingdom where there were a few others to help me. When I was fourteen we heard rumors of the traitor queen’s return. She, who was just as much a monster as Bastion, she took over. As if she deserved power. As if she deserved our respect and support. I would not accept that. So I went to court to meet the new queen. I bowed to her, ground my teeth and smiled. I was fifteen and lovely. She cheerfully welcomed me and agreed to send financial aid to the old fort. Little did she know that her money would be spend on resources to fight her. Even I did not know at that time. I stayed nearly a year in her palace and I planned. I met in shadowy alleys with unsavory creatures. I corrupted guards loyal to the queen and charmed the rest. Maybe I should have stayed there to rot the kingdom from the inside, but I was young and impatient. My rage grew and it made me reckless and foolish. In the end it was I who ruined my carefully laid plans. When my first assassin failed and then my next attempt with poison did so as well, I let my emotions get the better of me. I wanted to kill her with my own hands. Besides, it wasn’t the people I really hated. If the kingdom fell again it would hurt innocents. With all the guards that I’d charmed and coerced I almost succeeded when I drew the knife on her myself. Then the boggart interceded. He warned the army. My charm didn’t work on him. The little queen squawked and yelled when I pulled the knife on her. She begged me to stop. She asked me why. Why? As if she didn’t know. And then on the killing stroke they shot me. An arrow through my leg. They dragged me away, locked me up. It is to this day the closest an assassin ever came. And yet my plans came to nothing but a little slash on the queen’s head. That blood dripping onto her dress was the only victory I saw. And yet how they howled and gushed over the poor baby with a scratch. They disgusted me. I despise those who support her, the idiots who allow such corruption. I had to flee after that. It took a few simple words, but all of my remaining energy to charm the guards into releasing me to limp into the woods. I was lucky to come across a merchant caravan that I charmed into helping me, but I couldn’t keep it up for long. I lived in the forest on the run for half a year, maybe more. I had no way to keep track of time. I thought I had lost everything, I had no place to return to, no family. But I was wrong. Eventually my powers led my first ally to me. Leviathan. He fought of my charm quicker than most and would have killed me until he found that I was a traitor, an enemy of his enemy. It was him and his brother, the Hales who recognized my phoenix birthmark. Together we followed rumors about the past that led me back to the fort where I had taken refuge. And elder there recounted a history of another continent where the Tsekras of old ruled. She told me I was the heir to the high house of the fae, that I was right to fight the betrayer of dragons. The Valentino’s were another high family of old and our houses had been allies. The elder taught me my history as the Hales taught me how to make my future. I made other allies of my own. I rebuilt the Tsekra’s fort and found banner men. I will give my life to take the traitor queen down. I find I do no care how I smear my innocence. I will lead my people against the monster’s regime. And if I fail, I still did what no other could accomplish. I will still have brought back a high house and I will still have lead the first attack against the traitor.
Weapons and abilities: Iraeil had no instruction in her magic but luckily it manifested itself in a way that she could easily learn herself. She calls it a silver tongue. She can communicate in any language with any creature- fish, cats and dragons alike- and bend them to her will. Talking and charming animals is easy, but the more intelligent, and the more humanoid they are, the harder it gets. Intelligent animals can fight it, which gives them an advantage. But not all humanoids are intelligent. Iraeil’s powers don’t work as well on them because she is not as comfortable. It’s harder for her to charm a dragon in human form than the same one is beast form. Iraeil always has companion creatures around. They are her protection. Her skills are archery and knife throwing. She took advantage of her above average eye-hand-coordination to learn, but in a close range attack, it will be her companions who do a lot of the fighting.
Appearance: Delicate and small for her reputation and position. Iraeil is beautiful in a soft, pale way, with her fine features. Her skin is smooth and light, from under exposure to the sun. She doesn’t tan, but burns and she had enough of burns. The skin running up her right arm and down that side is puckered and pink with scars from burns that will never leave her. She hides that weakness. Not out of shame exactly, she just doesn’t want her people to see the weakness and pain that her enemy has already inflicted on her. The same day that she gained her burns a birthmark appeared on her left side under her ribcage. It was just a rough shape but as the weeks passed since her parents death it clarified into the shape of a bird, a phoenix. Her hair is a similar memento. When let down it falls to the bottom of her back in waves the color of moonlight. Before it was thick and brown, but her trauma turned it silver white when she was still a child. The darkest color in her appearance lost, she turned into a ghost. Now her eyes are the most startling thing about het. They are a bright, piercing blue. They show the fire in her, the rage and love she can hold. Iraeil is thin still, as she has never had the best resources. But she has grown stronger since she left Valentine. She trains more now, building muscles and skills.
Bio: Rebel, traitor, outlaw, they yell at me. They look down and spit on me, but they know nothing. I do not need to be ashamed, I have friends and banner men and people who look up to me and call me Lady, head of the Tsekra, the next Pheonix. The others were there and they choose to forget their dead, to forgive the real traitor; the betrayer of dragons. I did not. I watched my parents’ burn, I saw the wealth of our family melt. That day I could do nothing but run I hid in the cinders and rubble, and I saw the monster and the princess. I watched the Valentino heir treat with Bastion, watched her bow to his will. I watched her do nothing for the people who were supposedly hers. It didn’t take them long to lock her up and put her where she belonged, where she should have rotted. She knew what she had done, how many she had killed. And she presumed to escape? As if she didn't deserve a hundred times worse than what she got! So she destroyed her family, the people who she used to love. She left nothing but rubble and blood, abandoning the desolation she had made. And we were well rid of her. It wasn’t easy living in that ruined kingdom. We were all lost and broken. The kingdom scattered. I was orphaned with nowhere to go and 10 years old. I was taken in by traveling merchants. They brought me to an old fort outside the limits of the kingdom where there were a few others to help me. When I was fourteen we heard rumors of the traitor queen’s return. She, who was just as much a monster as Bastion, she took over. As if she deserved power. As if she deserved our respect and support. I would not accept that. So I went to court to meet the new queen. I bowed to her, ground my teeth and smiled. I was fifteen and lovely. She cheerfully welcomed me and agreed to send financial aid to the old fort. Little did she know that her money would be spend on resources to fight her. Even I did not know at that time. I stayed nearly a year in her palace and I planned. I met in shadowy alleys with unsavory creatures. I corrupted guards loyal to the queen and charmed the rest. Maybe I should have stayed there to rot the kingdom from the inside, but I was young and impatient. My rage grew and it made me reckless and foolish. In the end it was I who ruined my carefully laid plans. When my first assassin failed and then my next attempt with poison did so as well, I let my emotions get the better of me. I wanted to kill her with my own hands. Besides, it wasn’t the people I really hated. If the kingdom fell again it would hurt innocents. With all the guards that I’d charmed and coerced I almost succeeded when I drew the knife on her myself. Then the boggart interceded. He warned the army. My charm didn’t work on him. The little queen squawked and yelled when I pulled the knife on her. She begged me to stop. She asked me why. Why? As if she didn’t know. And then on the killing stroke they shot me. An arrow through my leg. They dragged me away, locked me up. It is to this day the closest an assassin ever came. And yet my plans came to nothing but a little slash on the queen’s head. That blood dripping onto her dress was the only victory I saw. And yet how they howled and gushed over the poor baby with a scratch. They disgusted me. I despise those who support her, the idiots who allow such corruption. I had to flee after that. It took a few simple words, but all of my remaining energy to charm the guards into releasing me to limp into the woods. I was lucky to come across a merchant caravan that I charmed into helping me, but I couldn’t keep it up for long. I lived in the forest on the run for half a year, maybe more. I had no way to keep track of time. I thought I had lost everything, I had no place to return to, no family. But I was wrong. Eventually my powers led my first ally to me. Leviathan. He fought of my charm quicker than most and would have killed me until he found that I was a traitor, an enemy of his enemy. It was him and his brother, the Hales who recognized my phoenix birthmark. Together we followed rumors about the past that led me back to the fort where I had taken refuge. And elder there recounted a history of another continent where the Tsekras of old ruled. She told me I was the heir to the high house of the fae, that I was right to fight the betrayer of dragons. The Valentino’s were another high family of old and our houses had been allies. The elder taught me my history as the Hales taught me how to make my future. I made other allies of my own. I rebuilt the Tsekra’s fort and found banner men. I will give my life to take the traitor queen down. I find I do no care how I smear my innocence. I will lead my people against the monster’s regime. And if I fail, I still did what no other could accomplish. I will still have brought back a high house and I will still have lead the first attack against the traitor.
Kiara Nhall
![Picture](/uploads/1/7/9/6/17960521/355069956.jpg)
Age: 27 (With several thousand years of inherited memory)
Gender: Female
Race: Binary elemental
Weapons and abilities: She can control fire and ice and other aspects of each: heat and to some extent, water. She can also draw on attributes of them, making herself hot or cold or strong in the ways they are. Her powers are passed down through her family and she inherited the generic memory of her female ancestors along with them, giving her skills and knowledge beyond her years. This is the only reason she has control over her powers. If she didn’t have the memories, the conflicting forces inside her would have killed her and others around her, when she was a child. besides her powers she has learned archery, poison making, basic chemistry to create explosives, and knife play. She favors long range weapons.
The Rest: Curvy and feminine with wide eyes and full lips, Kiara seems like she would be suited for anything but the military. She is of middling height and solid build. She has curves and muscles, not beanpole agility. But that doesn't mean she is not fast; she's strong and quick. Any clumsiness she once had has been pounded out with hours of practice. Her movements are coordinated, not fluid. She wasn't born into the job, she's had to fight her for her skills. That fight, the determination and rebellion, was what she was born with. She's battled society, family, her own insecurities and her body to earn her strength and skills and position. Kiara could have been a graceful noblewoman or a composed scholar. She certainly has the looks.
Her hair is feathery and soft. Bangs frame her face, but the rest is tucked back. When it’s down, it falls to mid-back in waves of color. She's indulged her aesthetic sense, letingt her hair grown long and dying it. Through the years it has always been a mix of blue and red, representative colors for her. But she's practical about it. In her line of work, hair can be a liability. It’s braided or knotted on top of her head for the most part, and the colors are never too bright. It’s hard to get a fix on what color her eyes are exactly; they're a mix of brown and a lighter red color, set under sharp brows. Kiara is not a lady. If that can't be recognized by her charming looks, it can be seen in her rough, dirty, no-nonsense clothes, in her armor, in the cruel knife she attacks with. Even dressed in lace and skirts, it can be seen it in the way she moves. She's not delicate, she's harsh and physical and intimidating. After all that it’s the little things that say she belongs here, under the Commandant.
The military is the only thing she knows. She was raised into it almost by accident. Her father was a knight and she came with him as a child, whether he agreed or not. The other soldiers got used to having her around, trying to sneak after her father. She made friends with the solders, copied them and took lessons from them. It was inevitable, at least in her mind, that she started suiting up and following them into battle. But as she grew, things changed. She left for formal training to become an assassin, and she detached herself from the army. They are her family but she’s separate. She follows orders but she moves alone. She's an assassin, a sneak, a spy. She's not a solder, a brute, a lackey.
Kiara is perfect at her job because, despite her skill and devotion, she’s normal. The eventual deaths of her mother and father hurt her as they hurt every child, but nothing more. She has no traumatic childhood, no horror story or emotional suffering. She’s fighting because she wants to. Because she thinks the cause is worthy. She grew to respect the men and women who fought for the kingdom. Kiara acts normal, for the most part. She can run hot and cold, as her powers fluctuate. Sometimes she’s cold and sometimes she’s welcoming, sometimes she’s on a short fuse and sometimes she can’t keep herself from flirting with anything that moves. But it’s all within a normal range of emotion. Kiara is an excellent liar because she doesn’t hide. She’s just deeper than she looks. She has the memories and thoughts of generations of elementals before her. Her cover is herself, a normal girl. She doesn’t need other aliases and fake personalities. She’s not trying to hide herself, only her job. And sometimes she can seam detached from the calculating assassin. The experiences of a thousand years calm her. Each generation’s mind becomes smoother, her memories contain so much there are no extremes anymore. Killing doesn’t inspire fear or guilt, at least not in the amount or way the other assassins feel. She, or her ancestors, learned long since how to cope with that kind of thing. It. Kiara can continue being herself. Its a part of who she is, but so are a lot of things and it's not in her to worry about it any more.
Gender: Female
Race: Binary elemental
Weapons and abilities: She can control fire and ice and other aspects of each: heat and to some extent, water. She can also draw on attributes of them, making herself hot or cold or strong in the ways they are. Her powers are passed down through her family and she inherited the generic memory of her female ancestors along with them, giving her skills and knowledge beyond her years. This is the only reason she has control over her powers. If she didn’t have the memories, the conflicting forces inside her would have killed her and others around her, when she was a child. besides her powers she has learned archery, poison making, basic chemistry to create explosives, and knife play. She favors long range weapons.
The Rest: Curvy and feminine with wide eyes and full lips, Kiara seems like she would be suited for anything but the military. She is of middling height and solid build. She has curves and muscles, not beanpole agility. But that doesn't mean she is not fast; she's strong and quick. Any clumsiness she once had has been pounded out with hours of practice. Her movements are coordinated, not fluid. She wasn't born into the job, she's had to fight her for her skills. That fight, the determination and rebellion, was what she was born with. She's battled society, family, her own insecurities and her body to earn her strength and skills and position. Kiara could have been a graceful noblewoman or a composed scholar. She certainly has the looks.
Her hair is feathery and soft. Bangs frame her face, but the rest is tucked back. When it’s down, it falls to mid-back in waves of color. She's indulged her aesthetic sense, letingt her hair grown long and dying it. Through the years it has always been a mix of blue and red, representative colors for her. But she's practical about it. In her line of work, hair can be a liability. It’s braided or knotted on top of her head for the most part, and the colors are never too bright. It’s hard to get a fix on what color her eyes are exactly; they're a mix of brown and a lighter red color, set under sharp brows. Kiara is not a lady. If that can't be recognized by her charming looks, it can be seen in her rough, dirty, no-nonsense clothes, in her armor, in the cruel knife she attacks with. Even dressed in lace and skirts, it can be seen it in the way she moves. She's not delicate, she's harsh and physical and intimidating. After all that it’s the little things that say she belongs here, under the Commandant.
The military is the only thing she knows. She was raised into it almost by accident. Her father was a knight and she came with him as a child, whether he agreed or not. The other soldiers got used to having her around, trying to sneak after her father. She made friends with the solders, copied them and took lessons from them. It was inevitable, at least in her mind, that she started suiting up and following them into battle. But as she grew, things changed. She left for formal training to become an assassin, and she detached herself from the army. They are her family but she’s separate. She follows orders but she moves alone. She's an assassin, a sneak, a spy. She's not a solder, a brute, a lackey.
Kiara is perfect at her job because, despite her skill and devotion, she’s normal. The eventual deaths of her mother and father hurt her as they hurt every child, but nothing more. She has no traumatic childhood, no horror story or emotional suffering. She’s fighting because she wants to. Because she thinks the cause is worthy. She grew to respect the men and women who fought for the kingdom. Kiara acts normal, for the most part. She can run hot and cold, as her powers fluctuate. Sometimes she’s cold and sometimes she’s welcoming, sometimes she’s on a short fuse and sometimes she can’t keep herself from flirting with anything that moves. But it’s all within a normal range of emotion. Kiara is an excellent liar because she doesn’t hide. She’s just deeper than she looks. She has the memories and thoughts of generations of elementals before her. Her cover is herself, a normal girl. She doesn’t need other aliases and fake personalities. She’s not trying to hide herself, only her job. And sometimes she can seam detached from the calculating assassin. The experiences of a thousand years calm her. Each generation’s mind becomes smoother, her memories contain so much there are no extremes anymore. Killing doesn’t inspire fear or guilt, at least not in the amount or way the other assassins feel. She, or her ancestors, learned long since how to cope with that kind of thing. It. Kiara can continue being herself. Its a part of who she is, but so are a lot of things and it's not in her to worry about it any more.
Morgana Prince
Age: 18
Animal Form: Wyvern
City:
Occupation/Position: Satellite
Kin: unknown
In a crowd Morgan might not stick out, but up close she’s pretty enough. She knows what works for her and how to make herself beautiful without being the gorgeous blond. Morgan’s frame is thicker and curvier. If she wasn’t such an athlete, she could easily get plump. But she is too vane to let herself go. She knows how to be elegant or seductive when she needs to be. Morgan is built almost like her shift, strong and compact. She’s a modest 5’ 4’’, but height has never been a drawback. With her athletes body and a pair of heals it’s easy for her to look taller. Her hair is a few inches longer than shoulder length. Its dark color and think, soft, straightness a testament to her mother. It adds to her grace, easily kept beautiful, shining in most lights. Her pale skin comes from her father, as does the sharp nose that adds character to her face. They are all she has of him, even less than she has of her mother. At least she met her mother, even if she was really too young to remember. Her mother’s influence is present in almond shaped eyes. Dark in contrast to her skin, they seem unremarkable, their color hard to distinguish. You can squint and stare, but that doesn’t change what you see, and it doesn’t help you understand. She keeps those unfathomable eyes when she shifts. In whyvern form Morgan is much larger. She looks like a serpent with a long, lithe body but she has two hind feet equipped with four razor talons. Her front feet are replaced by huge leathery wings with a claw at the joint. Her head a features are more draconian, wolf like almost. She is a deep purple blue, the color of a night sky making her almost impossible to spot at night. Her circumstance is worry, when she really needs to be able to protect herself or someone else. Morgan is a satellite, a guard trained to fight and die for a master, she spends part of her time as a monster reminiscent of a dragon and yet Morgan is normal. She could be anybody. But she chose to be a satellite. It was a choice that she has looked back on with many mixed feelings, but after all her training, her path leads forward, and she doesn’t have much choice about it anymore. The satellite trainers found her in the outskirts of Cinaed living with her mother when she was two. Her mother screamed and begged them not to take her only family and when that did nothing she attacked. Baby Morgan hated the noise and the tension and the horrible feeling her mother’s misery caused her. She didn’t understand what her choice meant then, when she reached up and told her mother to stop. Morgan can’t remember that, she know it only as a story, told from the perspective of the trainers. Morgan refuses to let anything bowl her over. Satellite training her live, but being a satellite is what she is, now who. She is her own person, despite everything. She’s not a blank slate to be written over. The training was always on her terms, even if her teachers never knew that. She isn’t a slave or a servant. She will follow orders loyally, but she cannot be pushed around. Morgan is confident in herself and satisfied, for the most part, with her lot in life. She doesn’t take disrespect from anybody. Her thoughts are that if you don’t like her, then you don’t know her well enough and therefore are not qualified to have an opinion. Though she does enjoy a good argument. Morgan a lot more outgoing than her fellow satellites. It’s easy for her to talk to people and she adapts well to many different situations. She talks a lot more than her fellows and seams much more cheerful. She doesn’t act like a satellite which is why it’s often a surprise when people find out. She’s a perfect secret weapon, easily underestimated by people wishing to harm her master. Unless those people are as well trained as she is, then they can recognize the way she moves, the purposefulness and powerful grace. She moves like a warrior. Morgan knows just how powerful she is in whyvern form, but she’s not matured. She’s spend many hundreds of hours more training to fight in human form that she has worrying about shifting. She’s decided that it doesn’t matter if she can’t really control it. She’s almost as deadly in human form. Her life was determined by a decision she doesn’t even remember making, but she’s stands by that decision. While her fellows were running away or fighting the trainers she worked diligently. Morgan is proud of who she is and smug in her self-assurance that she’s a match for the best of them. She’s always had her doubts and her grudges like the other satellites, but she’s learned to work despite them, to hide them and keep going. And she wasn’t about to stop. Morgan was determined to make any assignment work. ___________ (unfinished)
Animal Form: Wyvern
City:
Occupation/Position: Satellite
Kin: unknown
In a crowd Morgan might not stick out, but up close she’s pretty enough. She knows what works for her and how to make herself beautiful without being the gorgeous blond. Morgan’s frame is thicker and curvier. If she wasn’t such an athlete, she could easily get plump. But she is too vane to let herself go. She knows how to be elegant or seductive when she needs to be. Morgan is built almost like her shift, strong and compact. She’s a modest 5’ 4’’, but height has never been a drawback. With her athletes body and a pair of heals it’s easy for her to look taller. Her hair is a few inches longer than shoulder length. Its dark color and think, soft, straightness a testament to her mother. It adds to her grace, easily kept beautiful, shining in most lights. Her pale skin comes from her father, as does the sharp nose that adds character to her face. They are all she has of him, even less than she has of her mother. At least she met her mother, even if she was really too young to remember. Her mother’s influence is present in almond shaped eyes. Dark in contrast to her skin, they seem unremarkable, their color hard to distinguish. You can squint and stare, but that doesn’t change what you see, and it doesn’t help you understand. She keeps those unfathomable eyes when she shifts. In whyvern form Morgan is much larger. She looks like a serpent with a long, lithe body but she has two hind feet equipped with four razor talons. Her front feet are replaced by huge leathery wings with a claw at the joint. Her head a features are more draconian, wolf like almost. She is a deep purple blue, the color of a night sky making her almost impossible to spot at night. Her circumstance is worry, when she really needs to be able to protect herself or someone else. Morgan is a satellite, a guard trained to fight and die for a master, she spends part of her time as a monster reminiscent of a dragon and yet Morgan is normal. She could be anybody. But she chose to be a satellite. It was a choice that she has looked back on with many mixed feelings, but after all her training, her path leads forward, and she doesn’t have much choice about it anymore. The satellite trainers found her in the outskirts of Cinaed living with her mother when she was two. Her mother screamed and begged them not to take her only family and when that did nothing she attacked. Baby Morgan hated the noise and the tension and the horrible feeling her mother’s misery caused her. She didn’t understand what her choice meant then, when she reached up and told her mother to stop. Morgan can’t remember that, she know it only as a story, told from the perspective of the trainers. Morgan refuses to let anything bowl her over. Satellite training her live, but being a satellite is what she is, now who. She is her own person, despite everything. She’s not a blank slate to be written over. The training was always on her terms, even if her teachers never knew that. She isn’t a slave or a servant. She will follow orders loyally, but she cannot be pushed around. Morgan is confident in herself and satisfied, for the most part, with her lot in life. She doesn’t take disrespect from anybody. Her thoughts are that if you don’t like her, then you don’t know her well enough and therefore are not qualified to have an opinion. Though she does enjoy a good argument. Morgan a lot more outgoing than her fellow satellites. It’s easy for her to talk to people and she adapts well to many different situations. She talks a lot more than her fellows and seams much more cheerful. She doesn’t act like a satellite which is why it’s often a surprise when people find out. She’s a perfect secret weapon, easily underestimated by people wishing to harm her master. Unless those people are as well trained as she is, then they can recognize the way she moves, the purposefulness and powerful grace. She moves like a warrior. Morgan knows just how powerful she is in whyvern form, but she’s not matured. She’s spend many hundreds of hours more training to fight in human form that she has worrying about shifting. She’s decided that it doesn’t matter if she can’t really control it. She’s almost as deadly in human form. Her life was determined by a decision she doesn’t even remember making, but she’s stands by that decision. While her fellows were running away or fighting the trainers she worked diligently. Morgan is proud of who she is and smug in her self-assurance that she’s a match for the best of them. She’s always had her doubts and her grudges like the other satellites, but she’s learned to work despite them, to hide them and keep going. And she wasn’t about to stop. Morgan was determined to make any assignment work. ___________ (unfinished)
Diamar Artanel
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Yeah, that me, Diamar Arta- Why do you care anyway? No, never mind I don’t want to hear it. I told you my name, that's all you need to know. Get out of my sight. You caught Dia on a good day, did you? Well, she talked to you didn't she? Most days she'd just give you a blank stare, like you were speaking another language. For such a lost little girl, her name is widely known. It’s too bad she won’t talk to you, because my descriptions can’t do her justice. I suppose anything is better than what she gave you. But you wouldn’t understand, you couldn’t. I suppose the only one who could fully understand would be Alex, her cousin. Don’t talk about her family though. Sheds touchy about that and it hard to tell exactly how she will react. You’re still wondering why she sounds so familiar to you. She has a reputation. Dia is someone that people should respect or at least watch out for. She is someone who needs help and kindness to help heal her wounds. She is such a small girl to have suffered as much as she has, though I know size is no determination on how much a person can handle. She’s not short, but she’s thin and not physically strong. That gives her a disadvantage during a fight, but she isn’t much of a fighter. If you hurt her she will attack back, but she won’t attack first, goading won’t work on her. She doesn’t care about much. She’s not a prime target though, because something about her makes her look young. She’s sixteen but in some ways she can still look like a child. Her skin is while, not a rich pale but icy white, almost like she’s dead, making any scratches or bruises easier to see. Her eyes stand out; they are a deep color. It’s hard to tell if they are truly black or just a deep navy blue, like the night sky. They usually have a faraway look. Dia’s hair is almost the same color as her eyes are. It is ravens-wing black, and so dark that it looks blue-purple. It is always sleek and in place, when it’s combed out, and down it falls to her waist in a shimmery curtain. In her own way Dia is pretty. When she was younger she was quite beautiful, but now she is hollow looking, like she lost part of her soul. She still has some of her looks though. Dia isn’t flashy; you actually have to care to look to see her beauty. Her expressions are what get most people. Dais face is very expressive, but she’s rarely happy. Most of the time Dia looks lost, glancing around in terror. When she isn’t lost or afraid there isn’t any emotion on her face. Dia looks expressionless, or bored. She looks like the kind of girl you’d expect to be quiet and mousy, but appearances can be deceiving. Diamar can be very loud, she will say whatever she wants to even if it’s not very appropriate. Dia doesn’t care what people think of her. To fully understand how Dia acts you need to understand that her mind is broken. When she was younger she was captured by a band of Velka and they tortured her mentally until her mind cracked. She is not perfect sane anymore. It’s not enough to make her act really weird, but Dia will never be normal. She is drowning in pain and guilt and confusion. In some ways she is still as young as she was when she was captured. Dia isn’t sympathetic to other people, her view is; it isn’t my problem so they should get over it and stop bugging me. She doesn’t soften her words, to keep peoples feeling from getting hurt. Dia expresses her views well, and says her mind. She can be very impulsive, making quick decisions and jumping into things without thinking. She doesn’t care if she’s fighting a kid twice her size. Maybe it’s because of her inability to feel fear. It’s not that she is exceptionally brave; there is just nothing that can scare her anymore. Diamar has retained, the ability to trust. If she remembers, she will mostly try to help any friend out of a pinch, and she will stay loyal. Some people pretend friendship to elevate their own status. Dia doesn’t have room for such thoughts in her head; she barely has room for any thoughts. But if she doesn’t know you, even if you’re a fellow Sinha, she’d as soon kill you as talk to you. Sometimes Diamar might not seem very nice, and sometimes she is mean, but if she wants she can also be very sweet. Dia can turn into an innocent little girl you impulsively want to protect. It’s a defense mechanism and it’s kept her alive. Though, with her inattentiveness, keeping her healthy is a chore. Dia is totally self-absorbed, not in a selfish way, just that there is so much inside her that she doesn’t have eyes for much else. Diamar might not notice if she hasn’t eaten for two days or is about to walk off a cliff. It depends on what mood you catch her in. some days she can act almost normal, and others she is in a totally separate world. She does have a few other defenses at her disposal. Diamar can make herself almost literally invisible; nobody glances twice at a little girl. She also has her shift shape, a small ocelot. She’s small, but when she wants to be, Dia is powerful. Her mind may not be stable, but never underestimate Diamar. When she does get an idea in her head, you’ll have an awful hard time talker her out of it, especially because she won’t listen to reason. Before her mind was broken, Dia was the perfect student. She was small and beautiful and a gifted fighter. She was quite, but strong and brave and loyal. If Alex had not been born, she would have become the head of the Razarth family despite the fact that her father was an Artanel. But that was before. When Dia was twelve the Vilka struck, they killed everyone but Alex, who was away. And they broke Dia’s mind. The Vilka had been planning the assassination for some time. They kidnapped Dia and tortured her. They forced her to tell them information about her family and how to get into the house. They borough Dia with them and she watched as her family died, because she wasn’t strong enough to protect them. That was when Dia’s mind really broke. She would have been nearly insane with the loss anyway, but the fact that they had made her mind unstable with their torture, and that she had watched her family die, and knew it was her fault. That sent her off the edge. Dia was desperate for shelter, against the tide of guilt and loss and she found it in her mind, in a place where no emotions can reach her. Dia may act dangerous, but she would never willing hurt someone. If she lost herself at the sight of the Vilka she would attack, but if she was able to keep herself, she would never attack anyone, even the werewolves. Dia is someone to help, not hate. She doesn’t need pity; Dia is what she is, but she does need sympathy.
Elythis Toketsu Celesta
I see where you look. Are you surprised to see one of her blood? And the queen no less, out here. Yes, you are awed, by one of such high ranking, not in her castle, with people to attend her every need. But it should not be like this, and soon I hope, it will not be. Elythia is Queen of the Winter Fae, of the Winter Court, and winter itself. And, as so, she has a responsibility, a duty to her people, and even the other courts. But she is here today, for a reason; Elythia has a story to tell, knowledge, of her life. The life of any queen is not as sweet as you would expect, and Elythia’s especially, has not been, so very happy. She has had to face many hardships, and give up many things, for her crown, and her people. But, some have sadder tales, and Elythia should be glad, hers is not such a tragedy, as theirs. She does have those close to her, after all, her friends and advisers, and her family. She has people, to look after her, and help her. As the Queen of Winter, Elythia, you could almost say she is the embodiment of winter. She certainly looks the part, like an ice sculpture. You see her and there is no question, none that she is of winter, even to a human’s eye. I will start with that then, the easiest to explain; her appearance. When you first saw her, I know you gawped, many do, and not just because she is the leader of the winter court. Our queen is beautiful; her appearance reminds us of the good side of winter. Sparkling snow, beautiful clear skies reflect in her eyes, and the marvels of silver whiter reflect in her face. She is entrancing, but deep down you know this beauty could turn into a blizzard, one just as beautiful, but deadly dangerous. Many of the Faeries are thin, and slight, but Elythia looked even more delicate. She is slim even compared to other faery. Elythia is tall, willowy and slight, but that doesn’t mean she is week. She is lithe, with wiry muscles that barely show. Elythia looks graceful, even standing still. She would never put a foot out of place, or knock something over. She is elegant too, and dare I say, majestic? For that is what she is, Majesty. Many Faeries look human, or mostly human, some even live in the human world, among them, but Elythia’s for is obviously alien; not human. As a pureblood Faery, and one of a royal line at that, or course she would. But Elythia has another form too. Somewhat like a Were, but this is magic that she can work when she wishes, not exactly another side of her. In Elythia’s first form, she looks as nonhuman as can possibly be, while still retaining the essentials of the shape. In her first shape, Elythia’s skin is silky smooth, and while. Not as in pale, as in icy while, like the color of snow. It has a silvery tone to it, making you think of ice even more. It is perfect, not a scar or blemish anywhere. I suppose you could guess he hair color, just from what I’ve told you, of her being winter. It is, I suppose you could say blond. Its while gold, It is almost as while as her skin ,but with light reflecting on it, you will she the light gold in it, somewhat contradicting to the silver of winter you say? Well, yes, but I suites her. Everything about Elythia seams pale, that is, except for one thing. Her eyes are blue, and not the light blue of a cold sky, but the stunning intense blue of a mountain stream. They are cold, her emotions and thoughts are locked behind them, for you to never find, but never the less, they tell a lot about her, about who she is, from the proud, regal look in them. An odd observation, but if you watch you will see that her teeth are slightly pointed, like a wolves, and they are, or course, very white. Elythia has high defined cheekbones that say she is of noble blood; her nose is delicate, and thin. It is small, but pointed, making it look strong none the less, enforcing her royal heritage. Her ears are a bit higher up on her head, and pointed. They taper at the end, making them a bit longer that a regular fae’s and giving her good hearing. All of her features look pointed or sharp, and at the same time elegant and delicate, as I’ve said she looks very different from a human. She still has the same features; eyes nose, mouth. But they are shaped so different, that they don’t look human at. Really it’s not just their shape; it’s also something in her expression, a frozenness that a human would never have. Now, I did say Elythia has a second form didn’t I? Queen Elythia can take the shape of a bird when she wishes. An Ice-falcon. The bird could be compared to a phoenix, except it is almost the opposite. Of ice and snow, not fire. They are very rare, because there blood and feathers are very valuable. If you snap an ice-falcon feather in half everything around you, for a quarter mile will intently be frozen, except for you, and their blood will stay at zero degrees no matter what. They look much like Phoenixes to. Elythia’s form is about two feet with a five foot wing span. She looks a bit different from other birds, and is covered with silver blue feathers. On her head is a spot of iridescent blue feathers, like a crown, that match her eyes, which are the same blue color as in her first form. In either shape, Elythia inspires awe. But she is not all beauty, Queen Elythia can be deadly. She has every resource of the winter court at her beck and call, but that is only one reason to watch out. Elyithia herself can fight in combat though. She can fight and to hand if she has to, for she is stronger than she looks, fast and agile, and she has trained. With hand held weapons Elythia is not the best, but she is a fierce fighter. She can shoot a bow well enough, and she knows how to use a sword enough to protect herself until help comes. But her biggest weapon is magic. She has natural skill, and beyond that, the power that comes from being a regent, she has all that winter can offer. She can freeze everything with a snap of her fingers, no matter what it is; even fire can be frozen where it burns. Without even summoning a spell, her touch is enough to form ice, or melt it. Oh yes, it Elythia wants, she can melt. Elythia can make a freeing wind, or call up a blizzard. Plus, she is no weakling, so she has strength to back up her spells. Now, time to move on. It is not only Elythia’s appearance that is of winter, but her personality too. From the calm, collected was she does things, to the frozen logic of her laws, Elythia is winter, all over again. She would never rush into anything. Winter court fae don’t do things impulsively, and their queen most of all. No matter how strongly she feels, no matter what has happened, she will plan and watch, and hold her feelings back; they will only be a distraction. But waiting does not mean she won’t do it, Elythia is very determined, she would not stop, if she truly put her mind to it. And she will strike only when everything is perfect, when she can strike the most devastating blow she can, and destroy them utterly. Until the, it will be quiet, the calm before the storm. She is tranquil, like an undisturbed lake, but throw a pebble, and ripples with touch the while thing. She will give nothing to an enemy, not an inch of ground, nor a thought, And her emotion are anyone’s guess, even to most of her court. Like almost all of her court Elythia’s thinking seams to be on a higher order. She is very intelligent, and beyond that, wise. She can be perceptive, understanding things before they are directly spelled out for her. That does not keep her from being cold, nothing could. Elythia is frozen, she was frozen from the moment she was born, and she has been raised like that. You could say she is just as emotionless as any high court, and even colder. Heartless. A murder would not affect her, nor would a hundred. Pain of the deads family won’t reach her. You could call it cruel, but she won’t murder for no reason, criminals, soldiers, people with a deadly disease, yes Innocent people, just to make a show? Never. Whatever she has to do for her court, Elythia tries not to be violent, winter is a time of peaceful quiet and still. You would never think that she has killed before. She seams so relaxed, and soothing, but not a sweet little fae. To proud for that, much too proud, and in more than one way, She is prideful, and hates insults, to herself and her court, and proud of her court; winter, obviously the best of the four. She may even seem a bit aloof, head held high, above the rest. Collected and dignified to, obviously in charge of everything she does. But she knows she is not so much better than other. Knows they are smarter, or more learned, or skilled. Elythia is clean, she has no guilt or remorse, no ugly deeds that she carries with her, or not many, she seams pure. It will seam odd then, when I say that she was not destined for the thrown. She was in the royal family, but nobody ever expected her to inherit. She was the youngest of four, and even is they did all die, would she even be allowed to? If you were older, you would know what I am talking about. You’d be wondering, how she is the queen at all. Because Elythia is not your usual case, not a princess, first or second born, raised to be queen, then taking over when her parents retired, or died. Elythia wasn’t even considered a princess for the first years of her life. She is the great granddaughter of Great Queen Vidales, granddaughter of King Surnest, and daughter of Queen Elineyi, but she is not the child of King Truther. In this way, her history is not the happiest. When Elineyi was young another young fae caught her eye, and them courted each other, until they were found out, then they were stopped, and the boy seamed to melt away. She forgot him, when she ell in love, and married Truther. They had forty happy years, and three children together, and then the king died. Only a year after he passed on, her childhood admirer found her. They only spent a few days together, before he left her, and the court of winter, but he left her with another child. Elythia never met her father, and she never wanted too, she was mad at him, for leaving her, and for making her illegimate. But she knows she looked like him. Her mother told her, it was a fact she did not like, she did not like being reminded, every time she saw her daughter, of a false mate, who came back, just to spite her, and left, but not without putting his mark on her. Elythia was looked down upon as the bad daughter, as the one who wasn’t a true princess. But in the end it didn’t matter who her father was, it matter that she has the royal blood of her mother. People didn’t really consider it, to teach her about how to rule; she has three legimate children older that her. But that not the way things turned out. When Elythia was of an age equal to seventeen human years, the castle was attacked by a group of loner fae, but they weren’t just renegade ruffians; they had been trained, and they completed their mission. They killed the Queen, and her three children, leaving Elythia alive, letting her watch the blood bath, and not considering that she could ever be queen. That was their biggest mistake. With no other royals to take over, and a strong young woman taking over, the court didn’t protest. The first thing she did when she came into power was to hunt down the people who had killed her parents, and punish them. Elythia still knew very little of being a regent though. Help came in the form of another solitary fae. He had heard what happened, and traveled to see the winter court. Finding a struggling Elythia he took pity on her, and helped her. Steadying her hand, and teaching her how to be a good Queen. And when she had it down, he left again. Elythia was sorry to see him go, but she knew she had to rule her court without leaning on any body’s shoulder, so she took her chance, and winter court gained a good queen.
Ezana Calacalis-mercury
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You want to know what I have to say, or what they have to say. I'll start with them. The name they gave me is 55.3x211Ceta. My name is Ezana, but there's no use telling them that, is there? I'm approximately 4 feet and 10 inches tall, and I weigh 79 pounds. Here are the files I found on me. Physical description-short, and thin. She looks younger than she is. I don't even know my age, nobody does. Skin is light and is hard to darken, there is a thin white scar at the bottom of her left hand 55.3x211Ceta's eyes are a light gray are almost reflectivity, flecked with silver, Hair is feathery and smooth. It is 5 inches below her shoulders. A Light brown/black/gray color, with shift with the light. Strait nose, and light pink lips.55.3x211Ceta is good at hiding her emotions, will look cold most of the time. Her build is light and slim. 55.3x211Cets is fast, she had great endurance, but can only lift approximately 25% of her body weight. Agile, and flexible, with a smaller waist, she has not started growth yet. She prefers smooth, lightweight fabrics for clothes, such as silk. Is thought to be pretty by many interviewed. The good thing about being small is people overlook you, and you don’t need as much food, a good thing around here, where all we get is rations. I like being fast too it helps fight, or more likely, run. I'm okay without being strong, I don’t need to be to punch, or hold a bow or sword. Disposition-unhelpful at times, will ignore scientists, and questions. Will comply when asked by others. 55.3x211Ceta became more unhelpful after put with Omega, fought back. Does not talk much with scientists, but talks with Omega. Cares for animals, and other human beings. When placed with a cat, she gave her food to it, and cared for it, will do so for other human beings, but not infants. Mature for her age, but still acts young, would fare better with a parent figure, but will not allow any scientist to interact with her as a parent figure. Stubborn, threats will not make 55.3x211Ceta back down, only after discipline with she rethink her choices. Easily hides emotions, more than she did when younger. 553x211Ceta voiced many opinions, and showed dramatic emotions. Will rarely be sarcastic, said what she want so, strait out. When 55.3x211Ceta gets mad, will stay mad for 18 hours on average, yelling at all persons who come near. Usually thinks things out before doing, very cautious. Well, yes I'm not going to be helpful to you, but it’s true, I didn't really fight back, until Omega showed me to. Yes, I'm more willing to do things for people who haven't made my life awful. I didn't back down from threats, because they weren't doing anything to me, but discipline hurts and I'm just a little kid, I don’t like pain. I do make an effort to hide my emotions, but sometimes my temper just gets away from me, and I stay mad, I can help it, seeing them just makes me madder, so I stay mad. If you were locked up for a lot of your life you would think before doing stuff too, will this be back in a lab? I've had a lot of people tell me I'm mature sense I got out, and being raised like I did, it’s just natural I act that way. Anyway I don’t think I act to mature, got to fit in you know? Abilities- before genetic modification 55.3x211Ceta could listen to animal minds. After genetic mutation her telepathic ability was enhanced greatly. She can put her words into the heads of humans and animals, and can listen to their thoughts as well. 55.3x211Ceta can control simple minds with her mind. Her telepathy had enhanced her ability to learn, she can memorize things well, and can move along quickly in studies. Well at least I can communicate, with my voice gone, that's what I normally do, put my words right into people’s heads. I can control human minds too, not just ‘simple minds' it’s just harder. I don’t know how they know I learn fast, they didn't ever teach me much. But I learned a lot from Omega. Flaws- Voice is very quiet, vocal level cannot get higher than a whisper. Very unobservant, misses many details, and will only reply after question had been repeated many times. Cannot communicate well. Limited education. Will sometimes faint for no apparent reason. Not cooperative. See, these are all the things they messed with. Well, besides my cooperation, or lack thereof, and my unobservant-ness. I wish I had a voice, it’s just one more thing that remind me that I'm an experiment. History- Was obtained when she was one year old. All genetic modification was finished by the time 55.3x211Ceta was approximately three years old. She was raised in secure living quarters and periodically tested until she was six years old when she was moved to an outpost laboratory with experiment 6-49x.026OmegaTeleftia. 55.3x211Ceta became 'friends' with 6-49x.026OmegaTeleftia, before 6-49x.026OmegaTeleftia escaped. 55.3x211Ceta escaped approximately half a year after Omega, and is thought to have found her. Jeez, they don’t write very much do they? Four lines for ten years? I'm still looking for '6-49x.026OmegaTeleftia'. She inspired me. I was hopeless before I met her, I just blindly did as I was told. Well, after an hour of ignoring the scientists, and getting punished with sharp stuff. She gave me someone to look up to, and I followed her example. I fought back every chance I got. If she hadn't escaped. I never would have thought that it was possible. Relatives- None know. Until 55.3x211Ceta was eight it was though that her mother was Tia Mercury. When her genetics were further tested we found that she was not Ms. Mercury's child. We also though that her sister was 6-49x.026OmegaTeleftia. At this point in time we are researching, to see who her parents are. I wish Omega was my sister. Then she would have taken me with her. I don’t even know Tia, and I wish she was my mother, so I would know more about myself. For a while I felt like I had a place where I could go. I know a little kids fantasy right? Well I still wish it was true. I want a place to call mine. Notes-It is a possibility that 55.3x211Cetahas learned weaponry and hand to hand combat from 6-49x.026OmegaTeleftaia before escape. Can confuse people, with her mind powers, and people do not suspect a young child to anything back, like 55.3x211Ceta will do. Will not hesitate to use powers. Yep, I learned archery, fencing, and hand to hand from Omega, and being a cute little kid has its up sides, no body suspects you. What do they expect? I'm supposed to ignore my powers? No way, I take every opportunity I can.
Griffany Tere
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Some things you can get over, some things you feel bad about but in the end it doesn’t matter, some things are necessary and it all evens out, but some things haunt you forever. Some things you never get over and you live with for the rest of your life. You can tell yourself that nobody can tell what’s going to happen; the mystery of the future is a part of living, but sometimes that doesn’t help. Sometimes nothing does. For the rest of forever, I will know that I sent him to die. I was scared and I made a choice and he died. Nobody can tell me it wasn’t my fault, nobody can dispute the evidence. I can’t forget it, I can’t ever let myself forget him because it’d be for the same reason that I let him die, for my own comfort and safety and peace of mind. Alex was my little brother, my responsibility, my family. The only family that I had. I don’t remember my mom; she dies when I was three and Alex was one. We didn’t go into the foster system because Zeus, in his infinite power, saw fit to guide me to a hidden temple of Demeter and dump me there. He didn’t bother with Alex. Alex wasn’t his son. The demigod priestesses at the temple went and found Alex because I wouldn’t stop babbling about him. The priestesses raised us for seven years. They taught us about mythology and the gods and what being the daughter of Zeus meant as well as all the regular school stuff. They taught us how to fight, and what we’d need to know to take care of ourselves. As I got older I realized keeping us safe wasn’t such an easy task. Somehow they managed to hide out scent from the monsters but it wasn’t easy and they still had to fight the occasional one who found us anyway. When I was eleven decided we should leave so Alex and I packed our stuff up, said our goodbyes and hit the road. At first it was fun. We were independent and free and we could do what we wanted. We traveled around, taking odd jobs when we needed to and getting food from other demigods. For a while we traveled with a group of them. It was there that I realized what it meant that my brother was a regular mortal. His only ability was his knowledge. The others looked down on mortals, almost like the divine parents would. I can’t say I have any great love for the human populate; they’re a bunch of cows, but to me Alex was different. I had to make the other think of Alex as I did so we pretended he was a demigod. He was never anything less that a brother to me, even though our fathers were different. I didn’t care if he was less like the arrogate warriors we traveled with that I was. But he did. Alex hated not being the same, he hated not having powers, not being “as cool” as we were. I think he was more enthused with my powers and the world of the gods than I was. I suppose I can’t blame him. If our situations had been switched, I’d probably feel as he did. Alex liked getting to be a demigod, liked getting the respect from the other kids. He was younger than most of them and the priestesses of Demeter had trained us well. Then he came. He looked human, but he wasn’t. I don’t know what he is but he’s still out there and one day I’m going to find him and I’m going to end him. He challenged me, said that he was the enemy of Zeus and as his daughter my enemy as well. I was terrified. Alex wasn’t, he was exited, so I told him to go in my place. He didn’t have powers, but my challenger would be expecting me, a child of Zeus, not a mortal boy. I thought with that edge and his skills at fighting it’d be enough, so I sent him on his way. And he never came back. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran back to the temple of Demeter. The priestesses treated me politely, but not warmly. They knew what I’d done. I could tell they didn’t want me there, but I didn’t care, I just sat there and vegetated until doomsday struck, until the dead came back to life. Then I had to run. I had to learn how to live again, how to function. I had three hundred more years and no matter how much pain I deserved I couldn’t live three hundred years in misery. There was a limit to how much I could torture myself. I learned how to put a front on, how to push the pain to the back of my mind for later, how to be happy again. Somewhere along the way I made peace with the face that Alex wouldn’t hate me, that he’d still probably want me to be happy, so I had to try. I learned to be normal again, so nobody would guess anything. The priestesses said it was inappropriate for me to go around moping, forcing my misery out for other people to see and hear and feel, and they were right. I learned a lot about myself, some that I’d forgotten and some that I’d never needed to know what I’d been with Alex. I realized that I could be courageous. When Alex dies because of my cowardice I stopped that part of myself out. I decided that I would never let it hurt somebody else. Fear is good and natural, but it’s not more important that any responsibility that I have. With that realization and reserve came power. I have the will to stand against anything now; all I have to do is think of Alex and everybody else counting on me. I learned that I was good leader. It was in my blood and now its in my heart. I can do it naturally. I’ve never had a greater self purpose so any group that I lend myself to because my life, something that I will give up everything for. I’ve changed a lot, since I was the silly, lighthearted child who first set out to forge her way with Alex and since I was the cold depressed girl who gave up on life and went to wither away in the temple of Demeter. I’m a different person from both of those people. I’m stronger, smarter, more powerful, braver, calmer and in a way more independent and happy. Because now I know who I am and while I’m doing. I’ve found my place in a group. My team was in trouble when I first met them. Literally, I watched all but three of them die, dragged away from this life by the restless undead. After that then needed leadership and I took over. Hazma really helped me, scared me too with that power he has. I’m new but I’m a good leader. I’m strong and smart and I’m a fighter. I may be small, but I’ve been training and on the move my entire life. I know how to get around my size. For a girl I’m medium height and I have a slim, wiry build. I think I’m eighteen now, but its hard to tell how old any of us are. I could look sixteen for a regular human, or twenty-five. It’s the eyes that seal it. I’ve got big hazel eyes that end up expressing more than I’d like, if you know how to read them. They can convey my anger or joy or sadness. They overflow with tears all too easily. I’d like to think they’re strong, that they convey my power, the courage that I cannot ever let go of, but is any of that even important. Here looks aren’t important. Nobody cares about my fine features and sharp nose and cute smile. Nobody cares that once upon a time my skin a smooth and pale. Now it’s scraped and burnt and dirty. My hair’s short now too. It was never long, but when I was young, before I left the temple it used to fall to mid-back, all black and shiny. Now it’s barely longer than shoulder length. There is nothing about me that says beauty. This world isn’t beautiful, but it’s still our and no matter how it hurts us we just have to take it with us and carry on.
Hannah Kaycee
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Hanna Kaycee, it’s a pretty common name right? But it has the weirdest origins, well weird for the rest of the world; here, weird is commonplace. Anyway, I was named by the scientists. I was O. Hannah: KC when I was first created, and it was too convenient not to call me Hannah. Since we’re not all fluent in scientist-talk, I should probably interpret: O. Hannah is the scientific name for a species of snake, King Cobra to be exactly, which is where the KC comes from, in case you were wondering if it was KFC, just with out the fried part, which would actually still work...Digression in process. So! You can probably guess what kind of genes they put into me now; at least I’d hope you can. They put other genes in me too, though this time, I can’t tell you what they are, cuz I don’t know. I used to have wings, at least I think I did; the scientists like playing with my memories. But here’s what I think I remember; when I was younger I had different traits, I had wings and... something else. I also had a big temper. I remember being mad a lot when I was younger and trying to smash their lab, I remember hearing them say I was too powerful, so they took me back into their lab and they, well, edited me. They took away my wings, and probably changed personality. I don’t want to go into all that, but I should. It’s a fact of life. You don’t see one among us who doesn’t have scars. It was torture. My back hurt, moving anywhere sent twinges of pain into my stomach. But that wasn’t the worst part. I still remember the heartbreak, the horror when I found I could no longer fly. But they didn’t stop there, maybe its better that they didn’t. A few weeks later Bella called me back in. She crooned and told me how sorry she was that her scientists hadn’t done a good job, and that it as okay now because they were going to ‘fix me’. They did make my back stop hurling, but they made my memories fuzzy. Sometimes I’m glad I can’t remember my wings better now, now that I’m trapped forever away from the sky, also it might be awkward remembering stuff from when I had a different view point on life. You could probably call me bipolar or skitzo or something because of my personality change, but I don’t call it anything because thinking about it to much makes my head hurt. But over all, I’d like my friggin memory back, and I’d like them to stop erasing it- I know the scientists can hear that. My memory has big holes in it, even from times after my operation. I’ve figured out what they are doing; the scientists make me do things and then they make me forget. And- I think this part was the main reason why they tampered with my mind- As far as I can tell whenever I get super pissed off, like I did before, I faint and wake up hours later. Sometimes it’s worse than others, I can go a month or two without out any breaks in my memory, and then I’ll have gaps three times in the same week. What ever they put in my head, I friggin want it the hell away from me! I don’t care what they do; I am not going to let them torture me! I’ll -Sorry; I got a little mad there. Just going to take a deep breath and continue. Usually I don’t get that worked up, I try to be more positive-don’t laugh; don’t take me for one of those annoying type people. As ironic as it is, I just think that if we all get mad and loose our heads then we’ll never have a hope of escaping, and that is my goal. It’s all of our dreams. What else can we do but try?- I don’t care how sappy or cliché that sounds- So I do try to act normal- that’s where you can laugh; normal is an oxymoron here-but I like to think I act something like a regular high school student would. I think if I was in a normal school I’d be the spunky one who always has a come back. I’d be the one everybody likes because they are exiting and fun- hush, I already know I’ve got a big head, but we all deserve our dreams right? I think spunky is a good word for me. It sounds pretty and happy, and doesn’t make you think of this veiled prison. Any escape, even a mental one, is an escape from this place. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to content myself with sitting around inside my head. Depressed people annoy me; if we all just sat down and moped nothing would even happen right? And we don’t really need all your drama. Call me stubborn, but if I wasn’t I wouldn’t have anything. I know I have what it takes; I have my own skills and my smarts, I have the determination, and I have the motivation. Because I’m not just escaping for me; I’m fighting for an escape for everybody I care about. If it’s for my friends, I can always find the courage and the strength I need to help them. I’ve been ready to get out of here for years, though I do suppose it helps that I look human enough; some of us aren’t so lucky. Of course, I’m lucky in other ways too; not everybody can be as beautiful as me, seriously. I’m a little taller than average- I am too tall! Well for an Asian girl I’m tall, so ha! My build is thin and wiry; I suppose that comes from my snakey DNA, like my skin. My skin is, for the most part regular skin, except its cool to the touch, because I’m cold blooded, which means that when I complain I’m cold you should listen even if it’s the millionth time. But I digress, when I’m hurt, like I get a cut or a scrape, my skin will heal over with scales. Eventually I’ll shed that skin and beneath it will be regular human skin again, unless it’s a scar. All of my scars are scaly. Talking about cutting-such a lovely topic-I should mention my hair. Recently I got a new hair cut, it almost looks as if someone put my hair into a ponytail and chopped it all off. Guess why (hint: the scientists decided it was annoying, so snip) If you’d have caught me a month ago I would have had hair down to my waist. It was nice and thick, so I got Saphire to cut it into layers for me and it looked really nice. Now it kind of floats around my face because it at an awkward length where it’s longer that, like, a guy haircut, but not long enough to put into a real pony tail. Of course its black- well dark brown, but you can’t tell, especially cuz it’s still darker than my eyes. My eyes actually look like a snake, which the whole pupil thing, but my eyes are dark amber brown, so you can’t really tell. I still have snake-vision, sorta. I have heat vision, which is mostly handy at night. My heat vision is different from human heat-sensor images. Hot things are different colors, they’re just different... heats, I guess. I can just tell when something is cold or warm. Oh yes, also, did I mention I can hypnotize people. Its great, all I have to do is get to stare me in the eye, and I look at you strange and you are totally stunned, you can’t look away. It’s almost worth everything else. And the fangs. My fangs are pretty sweet; they’re retractable, which is nice because other wise, I’d bit myself all the time, and then I’d poison myself which would kinda suck. On the other hand, I could pretend to be a vampire. Which would do me a great deal, stuck in this lab. Now you know my true motivation for leaving. I need prey, I need human blood!
Kimuda Ahar
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Some royals may look down on crosses, but they shouldn't. I'm a cross, and I'm not so bad. You'd think that, being the Adviser would let me fit in better, but that's not the case, I was probably born with the ability to not fit in. most of the time it doesn't bother me too much, I just watch and listen, and get all kinds of info. It’s not that I'm an outsider, I do get accepted, but I'm always different, detached, and maybe higher. That's because I am. I'm a Noble, not such a big thing at the court, but I haven't always been here. I’m the last child of a great noble house. The only thing I have from them is a little bit stronger powers from my bloodline, well, and my sword, Nichitora. Nichitora's blade looks like white gold, but its stronger than Iron, its cross guard is an intricate seven pointed star, made of swirls and points of an almost lace like darker gold. Nichitora's hilt is made of ivory, not some fancy swirls, that would be too uncomfortable to hold on to. Instead it’s smooth, and fits my hand perfectly. The hold is caped with a diamond, perfect for throwing light in my opponents eyes, and beautiful. The words Taiyo No Za Tsumi transform it into a golden tiger made out of fire. I have dark red hair that hangs to my lower back. My skin is a light gold color, like a dark tan except prettier. My ears are slightly pointed, I don’t know why, it's just a weird trait I inherited. They're pierced; I can’t remember when it happened, probably when I was a baby. I usually just keep two small diamonds in them, and don’t pay any more attention to them than that. My eyes are what catch your attention first though; they're bright even against my darker skin. Most of the time they are a really light yellow green, but then I use my powers they turn red, I've been told its really scary. Something about my face looks regal, like royalty, which I almost am. At night, or in the dark I seem to change a little bit. My eyes look more yellow/orange than green, and they reflect the light. My hair looks black, except if a little bit of light falls on it and my skin does something to the light so it looks way darker. I’ve been told that I'm beautiful. I'm a Velkar so I have wings, they are the same deep red color as my hair, but they have some gold in them too. They are about 14 feet wide, and most of the time I choose to have them 'retracted’. Actually I'm only half Velkar, and half werewolf, but I can’t change into a wolf or anything, I just have odd looking eyes, and a good sense of smell, most people never know I'm not all Velkar. I’m average height, and slim, this makes me a bit less strong than the others, but I make up for it with my speed and agility, plus my training. I have been fighting stuff sense I was a small child, so I’m really good. At first I didn’t have any weapons, but after I have bows, and swords, so I’m pretty much an expert at both. And I am some strong, I mean I'm stronger than an average person because of all the exercise I get. My looks sort of reflect my personality. I can be dangerous or seriously scary when I want to. I have a big temper, and when I get mad I tend to be really nasty and it takes me a while to cool down. I don’t like being ordered around, but in most cases I just grind my teeth and do what I'm told. I think I would be a good leader, but nobody's ever giving me a chance to prove that, so I guess I just like being in control. I don’t like being overpowered, or told I'm not as good as somebody. When you first meant me I can be snappy, but once I know you I'm nicer .I will never leave a friend in trouble, and I don’t mind risking myself to help someone, as long as it’s a good cause. I’m not going to put myself in danger for some little thing. I guess I'm not especially ladylike, for being a noble person, I like adventure, and I probably couldn't stand being a regular little noble who sits around a castle or whatever, I'd die from boredom. I’m stubborn, but you can change my mind if you have a good argument. Most of the time I act pretty sarcastic, but I think I'm a good person. When I'm in 'Adviser mode' I act a lot different. I'm calm and unemotional, logical. I have to be very diplomatic sometimes, and I have to know a lot of stuff, to help the queen make decisions, so I spend a lot of time talking to people and reading. I'm sure of myself and I don’t make mistakes-or that's what others think. Now I get to tell you about my powers. Basically I can control fire, but it’s more than that. I can shape fire, make it into a little flower, or a wall, or whatever, but I can also start fires from nothing and keep them burning, even in water. I will never get burnt, but it more than that, I can actually be fire; I can turn my hand into fire and back again. I can control the parts of fire, Light but not all that well, mostly I just stick with fire, it’s my friend, it gave me my best friend, Kagias, a demidragon. I found Kag's egg in a forest fire, and he hatched in my care. I raised him, and we became friends. Kags scales are a reflective rose color, almost like a sunrise. Despite being pink he is still very fierce, and a good fighter. When I was young I was kidnapped I got away in a forest fire about a year later, and on my way I found a small pinkish stone. Something told me to take it so did. I had to live on the move for a while, because my kidnappers were still after me, so I joined a caravan, until they came back to the castle. My friend Fang found me and took me back to the castle, where I became the Royal Adviser.
Leana Savvay
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Doctor
Race: Pallian
Religion: none
City: Aegean Prime
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Kin: Charles Savvay (father), Dianna Savvay (mother) Adrienne (sister)
Lee grew up in plush wealth, but any sedentary nature was beaten out of her as a child. She was the youngest of a very ambitious and powerful family and she inherited their drive. She had the best of everything, including schooling and breezed through her courses. She left her family young, to study medical sciences. When her father died and the company threatened to fracture apart she dropped out and came back to Agean Prime. She never went back and never earned an official license or title. But that hardly matters; nobody would turn her away because she didn't official finish. She's brilliant and intimidating, especially with his sisters might and wealth behind her. Adrienne was the reason she stayed. Lee did continue her education in private and specialized to help her sister. Money, she loves, but she had never wanted a part of the business. The dry, boring numbers and idiotic people would put her to sleep. She wants to make sure her sister lives as long as possible and finds a different heir before she dies. She’s also hopping for a position that will give her some influence over the new director without involving much paperwork, so she can insure the good future of her family’s company. Lee is snarky and cynical. She never learned to guard her tongue, and being rude isn't something that bothers her. It’s not that she’s ill-mannered, just that she never learned to care what others thought of her. She would wear her best dress to a regular day at work and something informal to a party. And yet people are drawn to her, or maybe just to her money and her reputation. Lee is an extrovert, loud and flirtatious she’s not one to worry, about rules or due dates or death threats. She'd walk in on her sisters meeting in sweats and just grin at the glares she got. The one thing she is serious about is her work. At her school she was still flippant rich girl and nobody thought she would complete her schooling. She didn’t have the attitude for it. She wasn’t compassionate. She’s sooner laugh than help. But when she puts on the white lab coat and gloves the flamboyancy falls away. She’s completely down to earth, and gentler than expected. That doesn't make her calm. Lee is the fire to her sister ice, with a big temper and little self-restraint. The money and power certainly help her get away with it, but so do her looks. Lee looks little liker her sister or mother. Her Pallian paleness is hidden by a tan she’s worked hard to earn and keep. Lee thinks her darker skin gives her a richer look than the rest of her family. At least she doesn’t look like a ghost, like Adrienne. She has the same delicate beauty and grace as her sister though, just with more spirit. If Adrienne is a cat, the Lee is a tigress. In a fit of rebellion she cut off the waves of golden hair that formerly fell to the bottom of her back and dyed the rest of it blue. Blue is her color. Even as the die fades it still matches her dark blue grey eyes. Their dark color hides details, like wearing shades does and it’s hard to tell when she’s paying attention and when she’s in her own world. The rest of her features are fine and soft. She makes an interesting sight, such a beautiful flamboyant person flitting around a lab in a white coat and gloves. But that is where Lee belongs. It’s is who she is and how she can contribute to the world and to her great family’s legacy.
Race: Pallian
Religion: none
City: Aegean Prime
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Kin: Charles Savvay (father), Dianna Savvay (mother) Adrienne (sister)
Lee grew up in plush wealth, but any sedentary nature was beaten out of her as a child. She was the youngest of a very ambitious and powerful family and she inherited their drive. She had the best of everything, including schooling and breezed through her courses. She left her family young, to study medical sciences. When her father died and the company threatened to fracture apart she dropped out and came back to Agean Prime. She never went back and never earned an official license or title. But that hardly matters; nobody would turn her away because she didn't official finish. She's brilliant and intimidating, especially with his sisters might and wealth behind her. Adrienne was the reason she stayed. Lee did continue her education in private and specialized to help her sister. Money, she loves, but she had never wanted a part of the business. The dry, boring numbers and idiotic people would put her to sleep. She wants to make sure her sister lives as long as possible and finds a different heir before she dies. She’s also hopping for a position that will give her some influence over the new director without involving much paperwork, so she can insure the good future of her family’s company. Lee is snarky and cynical. She never learned to guard her tongue, and being rude isn't something that bothers her. It’s not that she’s ill-mannered, just that she never learned to care what others thought of her. She would wear her best dress to a regular day at work and something informal to a party. And yet people are drawn to her, or maybe just to her money and her reputation. Lee is an extrovert, loud and flirtatious she’s not one to worry, about rules or due dates or death threats. She'd walk in on her sisters meeting in sweats and just grin at the glares she got. The one thing she is serious about is her work. At her school she was still flippant rich girl and nobody thought she would complete her schooling. She didn’t have the attitude for it. She wasn’t compassionate. She’s sooner laugh than help. But when she puts on the white lab coat and gloves the flamboyancy falls away. She’s completely down to earth, and gentler than expected. That doesn't make her calm. Lee is the fire to her sister ice, with a big temper and little self-restraint. The money and power certainly help her get away with it, but so do her looks. Lee looks little liker her sister or mother. Her Pallian paleness is hidden by a tan she’s worked hard to earn and keep. Lee thinks her darker skin gives her a richer look than the rest of her family. At least she doesn’t look like a ghost, like Adrienne. She has the same delicate beauty and grace as her sister though, just with more spirit. If Adrienne is a cat, the Lee is a tigress. In a fit of rebellion she cut off the waves of golden hair that formerly fell to the bottom of her back and dyed the rest of it blue. Blue is her color. Even as the die fades it still matches her dark blue grey eyes. Their dark color hides details, like wearing shades does and it’s hard to tell when she’s paying attention and when she’s in her own world. The rest of her features are fine and soft. She makes an interesting sight, such a beautiful flamboyant person flitting around a lab in a white coat and gloves. But that is where Lee belongs. It’s is who she is and how she can contribute to the world and to her great family’s legacy.
Mirajane Sanda Pole & Mayvis Iara Pole
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Mira and May are not your usual fallen angels; they weren’t your usual kids even before the power showed itself. They were much closer to themselves than to anyone else, even their parents, but they never got along; there was always a half buried antagonism and tension between them. Because they were never equal. Mayvis was always smarter; she was in advanced classes, won prizes in knowledge bowl and chess tournaments. Mira was nicer, more social; she talked more and made friends easier, but she was always jealous of her sister. They both knew that being smart was more important than being social, and that put May ahead of Mira. Despite their differences, they were still twins, so Mirajane was forced to let it go, until her power showed up. She could control the weather, make it rain when she wanted it to rain call lightning and winds to do her biding. She could even fly. To May, she was all-powerful and the status quo was flipped. Mira was ahead now, and May far, far behind. Before Mira had been the average one, but those days were far gone as soon as she realized what she could do. Sure, May was smarter than a couple hundred people in their school district, but Mira was something else, she had powers that set her apart from- and far ahead of- everyone else in the world. May was green with envy. Some people might have thanked their lucky stars that they were normal, but to Mayvis and Mira, the powers were godsend, the best gift Mira could have ever hoped to get. Even though Mira is almost a different race of human, their personalities are remarkably similar ‘popular’ group and neither of them was very athletic. The only sports they ever did were archery and jogging. Their life was pretty normal until one day, Mirajane made it rain inside their room. The twin’s parents never did figure out why everything was wet, but after that they closed themselves off. May was furious at the change, but she couldn’t stay away from Mira or her power. In a way May did have control over the weather too, because she had the power to influence her sister, or just plain bully her into doing something. Mira caused two freak storms before the girls realized exactly what she could do, and Mira didn’t even start to get a handle on how to control it until she was shipped to the Academy, which is what happened next. Their parents found out, and one night the girls heard them talking about sending Mira to this academy that had contacted them. Even though they were both still angry with each other, they were twins, and twins cannot be separated. The longest they had ever been away from each other was a week when May went to computer camp, and the idea that they would only see each other a few times a year was horrifying, so they pretended that May had powers too. Their parents believed it, not knowing that only one sibling can have powers, so both girls were shipped off the Academy right in the middle of summer. At first both girls were bitter, especially May, even though she had been the one who had had to trick her way in. She was angry at her parents for being cowards and just giving their children up at the first sign of trouble. But May was also the first one to realize that their parents had made the best decision because they simply couldn’t have handled Mira. Because as Mira’s powers grew, they started changing her personality too. She grew more temperamental, she would do and say thing that surprised May, something that had never happened before, and she would go into first of rage calling up mini storms that made it nearly impossibly, and very dangerous to try to get to her. May was the only one who could, or would dare to try to get through them to her sister. When you fist meet them the girls really aren’t all that hard to understand, their first impression is quite simple. They have no horrible, convoluted past that has scarred their souls forever and twisted their personalities into some unrecognizable shape. They seem normal. But nobody can be summed up in a first impression. There is always much hidden beneath the skin of any person you meet. Mayvis and Mirajane are no different. If at first they seam like totally normal high school girls, well, they’re here aren’t they? Isn’t that proof in its self that they are certainly not ordinary? May is usually very exact, and calculating in her movements. She thinks it over before she acts, and by the time she acts, she’s sure of herself. Except for those few times when she looses her head, then she’s impulsive and rude and she absolutely wont take no for an answer. When May gets mad she’s a totally different person. She might not be calm and calculated anymore, but she is just as much a force to be reckoned with. You wouldn’t think that a person a quiet as her is as confidant as she is, but May is just quite to people she doesn’t know well. If you do know her, she won’t shut up. She’ll tell you about what happened today and how she is soo annoyed at her classmates and how her sister is getting on her nerves and how you are doing that math problem wrong. Her openness isn’t a subconscious thing because she’s shy. It too is calculated. She wont talk to people she doesn’t know for the same reason she doesn’t talk during a chess game; because it gives away too much. Other people don’t need to know what she’s thinking, or they might find a way to use it against her. If she knows someone, then she knows that either they can’t use what she says against her, or they won’t, so she doesn’t have a problem talking to them. Out of the two May can keep her head, she can think through a situation and calm herself down. Even though Mayvis is the normal human, she can cope better. She’s a very intense person, even as chatty and light as she might seem sometimes, other times she forces people to take a step back, surprised at her anger or her almost maniacal joy at winning. May likes a challenge, and that is what this is to her. She doesn’t let her emotions get in the way of decisions. She’s logical and painfully fair. But most people won’t see that side of her. They will just she the quiet, smart, book worm, or the smug chess champion. They don’t see her envy or her broiling rage at her sister and her situation. May doesn’t hide her problems on purpose, she just acts like normal no matter what she feels, even Mira doesn’t know everything she’s thinking or feeling. Something for which Mirajane is glad, she would probably be appalled by how hard her sister soul really is. They complete each other in some ways, because they are almost opposites. Mira rejects the idea of being cold and logical because that is who May is and she is not her sister. Mira talks more; she’s more open, and more emotional. She can be cynical, but not cold hearted like her sister. She’s the more self aware of them and she keeps her sister in check, keeps her from being too unfriendly. She influences her sister more than she thinks, though she was always the twin who was left behind. However reluctantly she found her place in her and her sister’s life. Her sister might get to go to an advanced class, but come home upset. Mira was the one who saw how unhappy her sister was and greeter her grinning and joking, cheering her up. Mira is always very opinionated, complaining about things and stating what she thinks. She is much more compulsive than her sister, and softer hearted. She can’t stand seeing other people’s pain, and normally she’s pretty polite. In some ways she is stronger than her sister because if she believes in something with all her heart it doesn’t matter what people think. If there was something she believes in with all her heart she would never give up. She can be feistier, challenging the system, being loud and charging forward. May is calmer and colder about it, bullying and flattering and slipping under the rules. It makes her look more complacent, not as strong, but it’s her mind that is strong, not her physical presence. Both girls have extremes in their personalities, extremes that most people never see. To most people, even their friends both girls are quite simple, quite normal, almost bland. They certainly don’t stick out, at least personality wise. But it’s hard not to notice two pretty girls staring at you with the same face. Mirajane and Mavis are identical twins. They look the same in most every way, except for their individual expressions. Both girls have corn blond hair that shines in the light. Mira’s is short, not quite to her shoulders, and spiky, almost messy, but it still manages to look good on her. Mays hair is longer, down to mid-back, but for the most part she keeps it up so it’s not swinging around and getting tangled. Both girls have creamy skin that is complimented by their golden hair and eyes, but shows many marks, like cuts or bruises or sunburns easily. The girl’s eyes are bright blue. Mira’s are lighter, and they have a touch of purple in them. Mays eyes are darker, purer blue. Both have strong piercing gazes that can freeze you to your spot. May’s gaze is always calculating, like she can see into your soul and Mira is watching you closely, waiting for you to make your move. They are beautiful in their way, but also expressive. Even Mayvis’s eyes tell when she’s wary or sad or angry or happy, she does wear a poker face in competitions though, something she had to teach herself carefully. Both girls are on the average side for height. They are thin and lightly muscled despite their aversion to athletics. They can both move silently and gracefully, almost like dancers. It a skill they had to learn to be able to sneak out at night. And they have done a lot of sneaking around their parents, both girls living a different life than their parent think. When they were thirteen the girls stayed out late, they were with a few friends and past curfew, they were both feeling a little bit reckless, so they didn’t both to get a ride home, and they paid for it. Only Mayvis came home, Mirajane was kidnaped by gangs. Mirajane was furious spitting back at them with burning anger enough to keep them back. But May was cold with fear, for the first time May was terrified. She was scared what they would do to her sister, that she would be hurt, be different when she came back. She was sacred that the gangs had ruined their lives. While their parents went to the police May went back into the city to find her sister. Her terror for her sister eclipsed any fears she might have had about herself. She was cold and cruel and calculating when she went to the gangs. They were shocked and intimidated ad it didn’t take long for them to return Mira. Despite Mays horror and her actions against it, that nigh did change their life, but not in a bad way, it didn’t separate them as they both had feared, it just moved them down a different path, a path they both liked better. May enjoyed the challenges and the mind games she could find in the city’s underground and Mirajane enjoyed the friends and connections she made. She learned self-defense so that if anything like that happened, Mira could protect May, instead of May rescuing Mira. You can’t see it and they may just act like normal high school girls, but all of us have something else inside, and it bears remembering, we are not all that we seam. Their relationship will only even make sense to the twins and even with each other Mira and May can be surprising. They are not all that they seem, they are much more, are all are. And it goes deeper for twins, they are not just sister or rivals, they are a team and no matter what happens, that won’t change.
Morgana Tanssi
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Morgan is, to put it kindly, unstable. But blatantly insane is just simpler to say. Once disciplined and fierce, a noble, respectable figure, she has degraded. Outwardly she may look the same, sometimes even act the same, but her mind is going. She has become obsessed with shifting. Turning back and forth, almost like she’s addicted to the pain of it, how her skin itches and her eyes sting. Pain is her trigger, and not just stubbing-your-toe pain; Morgana can’t shift at every little thing. It has to be the special pain that comes when you are cut and your blood runs over your skin agony, enough to take her breath away or make her scream. A cut, or a stab, a blow, anything that breaks her skin and seeps crimson. But nothing else works, broken bones, bruises, burns, all of those leave her stranded and hurting. From the beginning, by her very nature, she was set up to be unstable. For a while she was fine, she was normal, and then things started to change. First she just forgot things, where she was, what she was doing. Then she started forgetting who she was and what made her change. As a born Were Morgan felt that this was wrong, even in her fox form she should retain a little of herself. Morgan became paranoid, going crazy when she couldn’t remember who she was or what was happening. Forgetting that pain was her trigger could only make things worse. When suddenly she was changing, going through that pain and finding herself in another body without knowing how it had happened, where she was, or what was going on, it would be enough to send anybody over the edge. The physical change that her brain went through when she changed didn’t help either. It’s not like she started becoming less human and more animal -well no more than usual for a Were- the stress just made her less sane. Of course Morgan doesn’t spend her entire life being a paranoid amnesiac or in psychotic fits. Even now she returns to herself, becoming lucid. Her gaze clears enough for her to see the path of destruction she’s left behind her. She feels bad, for all the humans and witches she ripped apart without a though, without even knowing what she was doing, sometimes without even needing to feed. Morgan feels remorse for the people she’s left behind, the Weres she used to know and like, and the people who used to depend on her, look up to her. And she’s especially sorry for any humans or witches she’s turned, when she was in a bloodthirsty rage and didn’t even realize what she was doing, when she didn’t even realize she’d bitten someone and left them to live or die, when she was in a weak or paranoid sate and wanted someone of take care of her and protect her, those that’s she’d abandoned, or forgotten when her amnesia struck. She’s gotten used to having another were beside her, someone who will follower her because she created them. Sometimes she’s like a child, her mind reduced to simple, childish thinking and sometimes her paranoia kicks in and she feels like she should need an army around her, just to walk in the street. Her lack of self-awareness making her selfish and greedy. It seems like she might be easy pickings, like she should have been killed long ago, but she’s still dangerous; the one thing Morgan never lost was muscle memory. Even if she’s forgotten who she is, still knows how to deal with an attacker, she has to. Fighting was something that was beaten into her from the time she was born. As a Were she, like her mother before her, has no choice but to feed on humans and witches, innocent or not. This would have brought her the animosity of the Vigilante even if she wasn’t insane. Hunting is her blood, a predator instinct that makes fighting natural for her and killing easy. She was brought up to protect herself from the Vigilante and anybody else who wished her harm. When she was in her right mind she lay low, keeping away from any rumors, but now she’s too out of control to be anything but a public enemy, too angry and scared. Because if you got down to it, you could blame the Vigilante for her insanity; they were the last straw, when they killed her mother. Before, Morgan traveled with her mother. She never knew her father and never cared. As soon as she could crawl, she started to hunt and her mother started teacher her to fight. Her mother knew that her younger, stronger, more talented daughter would be the best protection she could get. Morgan understood that her mother was using her, but she didn’t care until she was older, until her mothers mind closed and her heart hardened and she started caring more about her own safety that her daughter. That’s when Morgan left. She was strong and independent, still clear headed and determined. The first time she created another werewolf it was out of arrogance. She wanted a companion, someone to help her, because even then she was needy. Morgan was proud. Fierce and ladylike, she thought she deserved to have someone beside her. To her, that’s an honor, to walk beside the great Lady Morgana. She wasn’t heartless or cruel, except maybe to her prey, and she was never unfair. Morgan was coolly logical, but not dispassionate. Even now, in her state, love is no foreigner to her. Morgan isn’t a bully; suffering doesn’t make her happy, quite to the opposite. Ironically, she dislikes pain more than most people, perhaps precisely because it is her trigger, or perhaps because she was just born sensitive. Which is why pain and her transformation are so wrapped up in her madness, why her obsession with it is so sick. From the exterior, it’s hard to guess the corruption within. Morgan still looks much the same, both as a humans and a fox. Though in human form she does looks more impressive, her height giving her and edge. Her body is still lean and strong, primed for the hunt. Her skin is pale gold, surprisingly unmarred by scars. Her hair is flaxen, sun bleached blond. Cut into sharp layers, and pinned up away from her face much of the time, its not one of her more eye-catching traits. But it doesn’t detract from her beauty either. Morgan has high cheekbones and a long, pointed nose. She looks like someone who should be wearing red silk and cloth of gold gowns, sweeping around a castle, not muddy in the street, mud smeared over her face, except for her eyes shining out like two mismatched lanterns. One icy blue, the other golden yellow. Morgan’s lopsided gaze is a shock. Her glowing eyes follow her into her fox shape as well, making them her most impressive feature. When she’s lucid and her energy and self-assurance shine out, they make her face unforgettable. And that’s the memory you should have of her. Morgana at her strongest, not Morgana when she’s week, or mad or paranoid. Morgan is not all gone. Her periods of lucidity confirm that. Maybe she’s just lost in her own mind, maybe she’s not sick, she just had the freedom to express what’s really inside her, what’s inside of us all, and one day she will return to herself. Maybe, despite the proud lady she used to be, despite her deadly skill, she just wasn’t ready to face the cruel world. Maybe, one day she will make her peace with who she is, and what the world is. Maybe she just needs to find and anchor, to keep her steady in the storm of life, and then she can return to being the real Morgan. Not the same person she was before, but a changed, better Morgan.
Morrigana Flowrite
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Hair: Black
Eyes: grey brown
Age: 33
Height: 5'4''
Weight: 139
Ethnicity: Chinese and European
Zodiac: Dragon
Notes: responsible, willful, charismatic, moody, cautious, thoughtful, adaptable, hot tempered, strong willed, caring,
Some people are complicated, deep, or hiding. Some people are confusing and some people are just hard to take in. Morrigana is not a terribly convoluted person, she’d not hiding her “inner self”, but even being a straightforward character, she’s hard to understand, hard for some to take in and get used to. Morgan has never been a particularly subtle person, and yet to some people she will always work in mysterious ways. Morgan is a queer combination, part of her is logical, ambitious and power hungry and the other part snarky, self-satisfied, and seductive. She wants to be a reckless daredevil, but just as much, she wants to be respected an in command. So she has developed a strong enough will to stop herself when she needs to focus. She’s a flirt and tease and sometime she doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone, except when it comes to power. Morgan gravitates around power, she knows who to watch and how they work. She wants power for herself; she’s arrogant and she knows it. There is no reason why she shouldn’t have power. She’d be a good leader’ she acts like one anyway, taking responsibility when nobody asks, looking out for her peers, and always staying close to any leader she has to work under. She has a fair handle on her emotions, she’s learned to have good outlets. So it’s rare that she loses it and starts yelling, no matter if it’s a superior or not. But, for someone as extroverted and loud as she is, Morgan doesn’t make friends easily. Lovers, she’d had, even a stalker. but many men, and even some women are easily impressed by her body and don’t look past it to see her personality, let alone like her for it. People don’t want the sarcastic, seductive Morrigana to turn into an intellectual and brush them off and become powerful. Neither do they want a boss who can seem so arrogant and flippant. And that’s how it will stay, for she won’t take time to correct their wrong assumptions unless it’s the opinion of somebody who matters, somebody powerful. And in that case isn’t not as much friendship but mutual respect that she is looking for. Morgan refuses to change for somebody who won’t get to know her. With her iron will, she could make herself into somebody else, but she wouldn’t be happy or comfortable; she wouldn’t be herself. It’s not by her choosing that she has few close friends, it’s by the structure of society. But after all the years she has grown used to it, and stopped actively worrying about it, or trying to change it. She’s accepted it. That doesn’t mean she’s antisocial. Morgan still flirts and sasses and chats, she listens and discuses and tries to give good advice. For the most part she gets on with her peers with only a minimum of antagonism, and as always, where it concerns power, she the one there trying to smooth over any arguments. Usually she likes the individuals she works with well enough, and she would follow those few close friends she has to the end of the earth. Or lead them there. She’s not a bad person, she’s not the bitchy, loose or irresponsible girl people take her for. She’s sarcastic and flirtatious, a heartbreaker, but she is just as much the analytical leader. With Morgan’s wide view and broadness of character, some might assume she’d be mad, but it’s almost the opposite. Morgan Flowrite is one of the sanest people around. Her broadness means she isn’t as extreme with anything. She won’t turn into a tyrant or risk her life for an adrenaline high. She’s a remarkably balanced character, though some might say that it makes her average, not as strong. Morgan doesn’t see it like that. She isn’t flat, she can get be a bit intense sometimes like anyone, letting herself get swept up. While other times she can appear completely blasé and bland. Morgan is no tall willowy blond. She’s not gorgeous or overly feminine, at least in a classical sense. She’s a fighter and a leader with a pretty rough life. How would she have time for petty girlish things? If she heard that to her face though, she might shoot whoever said it for being a sexist bastard. Without makeup, in ‘work’ clothes, she wouldn’t stick out, but she’s beautiful enough. Se know how to accentuate it too, she's learned how to be attention grabbing without being the gorgeous-Barbie-blond. Morgan’s frame is thicker and curvier. If she wasn’t such an athlete, she could easily get plump. But she is too vane to let herself go. She’d always prefer to be beautiful, and besides, she finds it fun. Dressing up and doing her hair and getting lots of admiring glances. Also, being beautiful lends itself well to the handy practices of flattery and goading and beguiling, especially to a power seeker. Morgan is built almost like her Zodiac shift, strong and compact. In Komodo dragon from she’s longer than her modest 5’4”. But Morgan has learned to work with her build, wearing things that flatter her. With her athletes body and a pair of heals it’s easy for her to look taller. Her hair helps, falling down her back in an inky curtain. Its dark color and think, soft, straightness a testament to her Chinese mother. It adds to her grace, easily kept beautiful, shining in most lights. With her Chinese blood expressed in her face, Morgan hasn’t gotten off completely unscathed, but the mix of the rest of her features has helped her miss the worst of it. Her pale skin comes from her European father, as does the sharp nose that adds character to her face. Her mother’s influence is present in almost shaped eyes. Though they are dark, a contrast to her skin, they seem unremarkable, their color hard to distinguish. In that way they can reflect her, you can squint and stare, but that doesn’t change what you see, and it doesn’t help you understand. There is a lot to understand, and yet she’s not an over complex person. You just have to look right. And don’t look too suspicious about it. Morgan can be dangerous, she was trained to be dangerous. Everything she knows about combat she was taught, or she learned herself. How to fight, and spy, how to sneak and coerce, how to kill. And how to lead and rise in ranks and earn the respect she thinks she is due. She doesn’t come from a background of mysterious pain, this is a path she put herself on. Her willingness, not past pain is what makes her strong. No one’s conviction and strength can beat hers. Her mother, Rose was a refugee, fleeing when the rest of her family was killed. She went to a European city she had come to once as a younger girl. Morgan’s father had stayed silent and neutral, keep his ideas to himself, until he met Rose and fell in love. Then he was righteously angry at what the North Koreans had done to the woman he loved. He didn’t dare speak openly against them, for fear of what it would bring down on his wife and his child, but Morgan heard plenty about it in her home. She was always the big-mouthed child getting in trouble. His father blamed himself when she left. Both of her parents pleaded with her to stop, but it was her father who taught her to want to fight. When she was old enough to make her own choices she joined a smell rebel group and volunteered to help them actively. To get her out from under Korean eyes they “kidnaped” her and faked a missing persons report. It was the best option, but she will never stop regretting all the anxiety she put per parents through, and a little part of her will always want nothing more than to run home to them. Her parents, and her new peers, made her what she needed to be. The rebels put her in danger and taught her to deal with it, taught her how to fight and survive. Morgan has killed and been hurt and she’s learned to take it in stride, as a collected leader and as a dauntless daredevil. Her life and her role have brought her a degree of fame and respect that got her to being the Zodiac she is today. Morgan could have been many things, but she has given her skills and knowledge and life to the fight. She’s a white collar intellectual living on the wild side and taking risks and never as she been more serious than about the rebellion.
Eyes: grey brown
Age: 33
Height: 5'4''
Weight: 139
Ethnicity: Chinese and European
Zodiac: Dragon
Notes: responsible, willful, charismatic, moody, cautious, thoughtful, adaptable, hot tempered, strong willed, caring,
Some people are complicated, deep, or hiding. Some people are confusing and some people are just hard to take in. Morrigana is not a terribly convoluted person, she’d not hiding her “inner self”, but even being a straightforward character, she’s hard to understand, hard for some to take in and get used to. Morgan has never been a particularly subtle person, and yet to some people she will always work in mysterious ways. Morgan is a queer combination, part of her is logical, ambitious and power hungry and the other part snarky, self-satisfied, and seductive. She wants to be a reckless daredevil, but just as much, she wants to be respected an in command. So she has developed a strong enough will to stop herself when she needs to focus. She’s a flirt and tease and sometime she doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone, except when it comes to power. Morgan gravitates around power, she knows who to watch and how they work. She wants power for herself; she’s arrogant and she knows it. There is no reason why she shouldn’t have power. She’d be a good leader’ she acts like one anyway, taking responsibility when nobody asks, looking out for her peers, and always staying close to any leader she has to work under. She has a fair handle on her emotions, she’s learned to have good outlets. So it’s rare that she loses it and starts yelling, no matter if it’s a superior or not. But, for someone as extroverted and loud as she is, Morgan doesn’t make friends easily. Lovers, she’d had, even a stalker. but many men, and even some women are easily impressed by her body and don’t look past it to see her personality, let alone like her for it. People don’t want the sarcastic, seductive Morrigana to turn into an intellectual and brush them off and become powerful. Neither do they want a boss who can seem so arrogant and flippant. And that’s how it will stay, for she won’t take time to correct their wrong assumptions unless it’s the opinion of somebody who matters, somebody powerful. And in that case isn’t not as much friendship but mutual respect that she is looking for. Morgan refuses to change for somebody who won’t get to know her. With her iron will, she could make herself into somebody else, but she wouldn’t be happy or comfortable; she wouldn’t be herself. It’s not by her choosing that she has few close friends, it’s by the structure of society. But after all the years she has grown used to it, and stopped actively worrying about it, or trying to change it. She’s accepted it. That doesn’t mean she’s antisocial. Morgan still flirts and sasses and chats, she listens and discuses and tries to give good advice. For the most part she gets on with her peers with only a minimum of antagonism, and as always, where it concerns power, she the one there trying to smooth over any arguments. Usually she likes the individuals she works with well enough, and she would follow those few close friends she has to the end of the earth. Or lead them there. She’s not a bad person, she’s not the bitchy, loose or irresponsible girl people take her for. She’s sarcastic and flirtatious, a heartbreaker, but she is just as much the analytical leader. With Morgan’s wide view and broadness of character, some might assume she’d be mad, but it’s almost the opposite. Morgan Flowrite is one of the sanest people around. Her broadness means she isn’t as extreme with anything. She won’t turn into a tyrant or risk her life for an adrenaline high. She’s a remarkably balanced character, though some might say that it makes her average, not as strong. Morgan doesn’t see it like that. She isn’t flat, she can get be a bit intense sometimes like anyone, letting herself get swept up. While other times she can appear completely blasé and bland. Morgan is no tall willowy blond. She’s not gorgeous or overly feminine, at least in a classical sense. She’s a fighter and a leader with a pretty rough life. How would she have time for petty girlish things? If she heard that to her face though, she might shoot whoever said it for being a sexist bastard. Without makeup, in ‘work’ clothes, she wouldn’t stick out, but she’s beautiful enough. Se know how to accentuate it too, she's learned how to be attention grabbing without being the gorgeous-Barbie-blond. Morgan’s frame is thicker and curvier. If she wasn’t such an athlete, she could easily get plump. But she is too vane to let herself go. She’d always prefer to be beautiful, and besides, she finds it fun. Dressing up and doing her hair and getting lots of admiring glances. Also, being beautiful lends itself well to the handy practices of flattery and goading and beguiling, especially to a power seeker. Morgan is built almost like her Zodiac shift, strong and compact. In Komodo dragon from she’s longer than her modest 5’4”. But Morgan has learned to work with her build, wearing things that flatter her. With her athletes body and a pair of heals it’s easy for her to look taller. Her hair helps, falling down her back in an inky curtain. Its dark color and think, soft, straightness a testament to her Chinese mother. It adds to her grace, easily kept beautiful, shining in most lights. With her Chinese blood expressed in her face, Morgan hasn’t gotten off completely unscathed, but the mix of the rest of her features has helped her miss the worst of it. Her pale skin comes from her European father, as does the sharp nose that adds character to her face. Her mother’s influence is present in almost shaped eyes. Though they are dark, a contrast to her skin, they seem unremarkable, their color hard to distinguish. In that way they can reflect her, you can squint and stare, but that doesn’t change what you see, and it doesn’t help you understand. There is a lot to understand, and yet she’s not an over complex person. You just have to look right. And don’t look too suspicious about it. Morgan can be dangerous, she was trained to be dangerous. Everything she knows about combat she was taught, or she learned herself. How to fight, and spy, how to sneak and coerce, how to kill. And how to lead and rise in ranks and earn the respect she thinks she is due. She doesn’t come from a background of mysterious pain, this is a path she put herself on. Her willingness, not past pain is what makes her strong. No one’s conviction and strength can beat hers. Her mother, Rose was a refugee, fleeing when the rest of her family was killed. She went to a European city she had come to once as a younger girl. Morgan’s father had stayed silent and neutral, keep his ideas to himself, until he met Rose and fell in love. Then he was righteously angry at what the North Koreans had done to the woman he loved. He didn’t dare speak openly against them, for fear of what it would bring down on his wife and his child, but Morgan heard plenty about it in her home. She was always the big-mouthed child getting in trouble. His father blamed himself when she left. Both of her parents pleaded with her to stop, but it was her father who taught her to want to fight. When she was old enough to make her own choices she joined a smell rebel group and volunteered to help them actively. To get her out from under Korean eyes they “kidnaped” her and faked a missing persons report. It was the best option, but she will never stop regretting all the anxiety she put per parents through, and a little part of her will always want nothing more than to run home to them. Her parents, and her new peers, made her what she needed to be. The rebels put her in danger and taught her to deal with it, taught her how to fight and survive. Morgan has killed and been hurt and she’s learned to take it in stride, as a collected leader and as a dauntless daredevil. Her life and her role have brought her a degree of fame and respect that got her to being the Zodiac she is today. Morgan could have been many things, but she has given her skills and knowledge and life to the fight. She’s a white collar intellectual living on the wild side and taking risks and never as she been more serious than about the rebellion.
Nisshoky Aku
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Who is she? You have never heard the name? That's for a reason. I am Nisshoku Aku. I see you do recognize that name. The name of the Leader of the Night Shade. A name you have learned to know and fear. So how did a little girl from the Rocky Cliff Tribe come by that name? Now that is a story I will have to tell. But first there is something you should know about us. My brother Colem and I, we weren't born in the Tribes. We were born very very far away. Our people were having a war, like yours are now, but compared to our fight, this is like a squabble between children. Our parents were warriors. Our father was a general in the battle and my mother was the daughter of a noble. When our mother had Colem and my older brother, my mother and father left the battles to live in the mountains, the only place yet untouched by war. Colem was six, I three and our older brother ten when our home became a battle field. Our mother, father and older brother held of the enemy warriors from our house. Then they sent in a special squad to kill the famous and feared warriors. Colem watched them die. In front of a six year old kid the enemies knocked our parents to the floor and cut them to pieces. Then Colem took me and ran. Colem already knew how to fight. He was able to fend off all the attacker that came our way and catch enough to feed us, but eventually the same group that killed our parents found us. Colem killed about half of them before they wounded him, but once he was down, they pounced. Even a furious and struggling Colem couldn't fend off 8 specially trained assassins. Who knew why 8 specially trained assassins would be sent after a couple of kids, anyways. But pretty soon, we knew how they found us. Our older brother led them to us. That was the real surprise. Before that we had had total faith in our brother. It had never occurred to us that it was even possible for our brother to be traitor. That snapped Colem. He just couldn't stand it. I didn't know a seven year old could kill 8 trained assassins in 4 minutes with nothing but some shadows. Our brother saw the danger and ran. Colem chased him, of course. Eventually, our older brother got up his courage and stopped running. He though that becuase he was older, Colem wouldn't kill him, wouldn't hurt. That kind of a thing doesn't work on a kid who's been killing people since he was six years old. Of course Come killed him. Our brother betrayed us, led the enemy to us and watched as they tried to kill us, all after watching the same people kill our parents less than two years ago. I couldn't watch, but I knew I would have done the same thing were I in his position. For years after that we wandered. We couldn't go back to our homeland because the same assassins would come after us. We couldn't hide in the mountains any more- they were overrun by the war. We just drifted, not staying to long in any one spot. Colem was sixteen and I thirteen when we came to the Tribes lands. We didn't know they were the Tribes then. They were just another village to us. We were on the edge of the Night Shade's land. We had been at our little camp for several days when Colem decided to go hunting. As soon as he left, the Leader, Second in Command and a group of warriors attacked me. They weren't that difficult to hold off, but there was a lot of them. Colem heard the fight and came back to camp. It's probably a good thing he did because they were calling in reinforcements and I was getting tiered. I thinks its safe to say that it ticked Colem off to come back and find a bunch of people trying to kill his little sister. He got mad and killed them all and I do mean every one that didn't run fast enough. I have rarely seen him so mad, but then again its rare than anyone will keep attacking either one of us after they've seen us fight. Unfortunately, the fight attracted the Rocky Cliff's attention. They saw Colem in his what I call his bloody-murder mode and they saw me sitting to the side looking slightly disturbed. They though he was trying to kill me and took me back to their camp and treated my wounds, all the while telling me how horrible my brother was, what a monster, trying to kill me. I kept my mouth shut and didn't tell them that he wasn't actually trying to kill me and that he was my brother. They didn't let me leave camp because of my wounds but I heard the new of what had happened in the Night Shadow tribe. It sounded like Colem had gone to their camp to look for me. When they didn't know where I was, he was about to kill them all when they told him 'Wait! Instead of killing us, be our leader! You killed our old one, you are truly worthy!' and bowed at him. Wierd, right? I can sort of guess his reaction and obviously he accepted because he is the leader of the Night Shadow tribe. Colem likes power. I could never see him turn it down. Knowing that he was safe and would eventually come find me, I settled down in the Rocky Cliff tribe. Sort of. The second in command kept being a jerk to me, saying that I was just a lowly outsider and stuff, that I would never be as good as them and they should throw me out now. One day he challenged me to a duel. I accepted. He misjudged me and I accidentally hurt him pretty badly. He ended up dieing. I was surprised they didn't kick me out, but they didn't. They made me second in command. Just like Colem. Kind of odd, isn't it, how these people think. Totally different than the people we grew up with. Just another thing to prove that we don't really belong here. I guess I shouldn't say that, though. This is our new home, and I think we'll be staying here for a good long time, at least compared to how long we normally stay. Not that I really mind. I'd like having a permanent home. I haven't had one since I was three. We just never fit in anywhere we stayed. Of course, it's not like our appearances helped. I'm not like Colem with his black hair, red eyes, pale skin and all but I'm not much better. My hair is red-brown with a touch of gold. I keep it cut short so it stays out of my way, but it earns me some weird looks. It has this sort of spiky quality and I can never get it to stay nice and neat. The gold in it matches my skin, though. My skin is that creamy, perfect light gold that everyone wants. It's unmarred and smooth without any blemishes except for the occasional injury that we fighting people tend to get. When you look at me and Colem you can see the sharp contrast to his moonlight-pale skin. Most people would never thing that we were sibling. There is not much resemblance. I don't have the same color eyes, either. They're still odd colored though. No such luck in getting normal eyes. From far away, they look light brown but when you get closer to me, you can see that their actual color is more like an amber gold, like a cat's. Doesn't help me see in the dark any better than I should though. Which is actually a lot better than most people. Colem has that too. Our whole family did. Our whole family had the power of dark inside them, but I'll get into that later. I have the feline look that, combined with the sharp angles of my face gives me the elfish look that everyone from my home land shared. I have a light built but I'm not too short. Next to Colem, though, I do look short. He is my older brother after all, so I guess that is to be expected, though you really couldn't tell. About the only thing we share is our fighting skills, though I don't go around killing everyone like Colem does. I try to be more civilized. For the most part I'm pretty nice, though what I do depends on what you do. If you're nice to me, I'll be nice to you. If you ignore me, I'll ignore you. If you’re mean to me, I'll be mean right back. You won't last long. For the most part, I'm pretty dependable. I keep my word and don't really lie that often. What is the point of making a promise if you're not going to keep it? Besides, so many people don't even blink twice about breaking a promise that it's mostly a moot point anyways. I don't mind doing work all that much. I'm just used to it. I've never gotten anything easy. I just assume that whatever I need to do, I'll need to work my very hardest to get it. I don't trust very easily, but I do have friend and people close to me. There are people that I know enough to trust. I don't shut everyone out like some people, I'm just wary, though I won't attack you unless you attack me first. But be warned. If I have trusted you, and you betray me I will never forgive you and never forget you. You better hope I kill you fast or you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and jumping at shadows. Don't try to take advantage of me. I don't want to turn into a frozen-souled murderer like my brother, but I can look pretty close to that if circumstanced force me, like they forced my brother one to many times. It's a cold, relentless, unforgiving world and you would do good to remember that I am just as cold, just as relentless and just as unforgiving.
Nova Mayonaka Nisshoku
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Her name means New Midnight Eclipse, and it’s very appropriate. Though she can often be misjudged because of it; a girl, with a name like that, in a place like this? It’s very easy to assume she is a dark, evil girl, and true, she does fit in very well, but I’m sure she could fit almost as well at Mercury. Nova seems to have a lot of power, for a small girl, really a lot of it is just that she is respected. Nova is rather short only five feet and three inches tall, to her almost fifteen years, and she’s slim. True, that gives her a disadvantage in a fight, but she’s been in lots, and knows that she can use it, to be fast. Nova’s skin is alight tanned color, not pale, but not very dark either. Nova’s eyes still stand out; they are deep purple, almost like the sky at night. They usually have a faraway look. Nova’s hair is almost the same color as her eyes are. It is ravens-wing black, and so dark that it looks blue-purple. It is always sleek and in place, when it’s combed out, and down it falls to her waist in a shimmery curtain. Nova is very beautiful in her own way, she’s not flashy, but she still is pretty, in an almost dangerous way. Nova usually looks expressionless, or bored. She looks like the kind of girl you’d expect to be quiet and mousy, but appearances can be deceiving. True, Sometimes-rarely- Nova acts like she looks, quiet, and mousy, but she certainly is never shy. Nova can be very cynical and outspoken. She doesn’t soften her words, to keep peoples feeling from getting heart. Nova expresses her views well, and says her mind. She can be very rude, or supporting, and understanding, depending on how you act. She is not somebody to jump into things, she will watch first, to see what’s happening. Nova does speak up against once thing every time though, bulling, and people who are mean, just to be mean, and it doesn’t matter if she starts a fight with a kid twice her size. This is because of Nova’s inability to feel fear. It’s not that she is exceptionally brave, she just doesn’t feel fear; there is nothing that can scare her. Nova could face down Headmaster Shaedow without batting an eyelid, with the same bored expression as always. If you are Nova’s friend she will always help in a pinch, and she will stay loyal, but she would just as soon kill someone she doesn’t know. Nova may seem not very nice, and sometimes, she is, but if she wanted Nova could be very sweet. Nova is very attentive, and she seems to fade into the shadows, so people are always surprised at how much she knows. Nova scoffs at people who think they are important because of who their parents are, or there connections, or their ‘great’ power. Nova would never say she had a leader, even the headmaster because she doesn’t consider herself below anybody. But it’s very possible she is above some people, especially with the power Nova has. By itself is not very powerful, but wielded by her, and accented by her other power, it is. Nova’s first, and main power is darkness, or shadows. She can blind people, and stop them using there other senses as well. She can put out fire, and disappear into shadows. Nova is most at home at night, with this power. Nova can see perfectly without any light, well it’s more like echolocation for her. After that, Nova’s other power is a surprise, it’s something nobody would ever guess, especially because she doesn’t use it very often. It’s light. The very opposite of her main power, and yet, it can almost do the same things; overcome peoples senses, give her vision anywhere, and make people see illusions. One thing Nova doesn’t like about her power of darkness is that it usually brings cold, and Nova likes being warm, if she had her way every day would be 90 degrees. Combined, Nova can make a cocoon of her powers that can stop most magic, and keep her safe. Nova’s past is a secret, some of it, even to her. Nova can’t remember what happened before her fifth birthday. Her earliest memory is of waking up in a strange room, where people told her house had burned, and she was the only survivor, and then sent her to an orphanage. She was adopted about a year later, into a nice enough family, but when they found out about her powers they immediately sent her off. Nova doesn’t mind too much, but she does wish sometimes that they had been more excepting.
Reign Mithras
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Reign is just as proud as her name suggests. Despite her femininity she is just what you would expect of a woman in the clan. She’s a warrior, cynical and calculating. It doesn’t mater that a few short years ago she was a pretty young woman, now she is part of the clan, and would you expect to find a soft little girl rising in the ranks of one of the most feared groups in the world? No. reign taught herself everything she needed to know to keep herself safe. She might not have known much, but she was still stronger than the other girls. She is a fighter in all the senses of the word. She might not have been allowed to train or learn how to use weapons, but she refused to stop trying. She refused to give up herself, and she never stopped rebelling. And eventually she did learn weaponry. She might not be a master of a weapon, because she only started learning recently, but she learns quickly, and has a natural aptitude for fighting with a sword. And if Reign ever did have to fight a weapons-master, she won’t be alone, she will have the Clan with her, and she will have Keiran fighting next to her. Keiran Mithras. He could be confused for her brother, but he’s not. He’s her cousin, much they might as well be siblings. They grew up together, before Keiran left to fight. Yes that’s right their history. It’s not as exciting as you might think. Reign has never faced anything horrible or heart breaking or life-changing. Reign got to be who she is from a normal life. She lived with her cousin’s family in a small town. He father was a soldier in the Army of the Kingdom and he was always gone, so she never really knew him, or her uncle who was fighting as well. She was raised with Keiran, which was where she got her rebellious streak from. She wanted to learn how to fight too. Everybody expected Keiran to become a soldier, so he was taught weapons from a young age. Reign looked on jealously at her cousin who got all the attention and knowledge, while she sat in the corner with a basket of cloths to mend. The jealously turned to anger, and stayed with Reign her entire childhood. She rebelled against the way people tried to mold her, and fit her into their image of what she should be. When she was young she rebelled by spending time with her male cousin. Bullying him into doing what she asked, teaching her. But most of what she knew about fighting in her childhood, she taught herself, by getting into fights with the other children. When she grew older Reign found better ways to protest her treatment. Reign had always been good at finding trouble, a trait she shared with her cousin. Reign used it to find the freedom she needed, and managed not to get into too much trouble with the authorities. She learned to be slippery and fast, and how to hide and disguise herself, and lie. Her cousin wasn’t so lucky, when he was imprisoned for breaking rules and escaped reign herd and helped him get away to the clan, following him, gaining true freedom. The freedom that she needed. She learned much more about fighting form her cousin making up for an entire childhood of lessons in just a couple of years. Now she is just as good a fighter as her war-trained cousin. In her own way, she is insanely loyal to the clan. She has to be, it’s her escape. But she will always be a wild spirit, even here, where she can act as she pleases, she still needs to test the rules, prove to herself that she will never give in and let others mold her. Despite that, and despite how she may act, Reign is almost euphoric in her new home. You’d never know, the way she acts though. Reign is proud and haughty. She will never consider herself below somebody else. She’s devilish and cynical, and she can be mean. You’ll have a very hard time getting her to be sympathetic to your cause. Reign doesn’t see the world quite like Kieran, who has been through the ravages of war, so she can’t be quite as cruel as he is, but she still won’t hesitate to rip your heart out. She’s calculating and sarcastic to almost everybody, and nobody is safe from her sharp tongue. But shell keep safe, the people in the Clan, especially those close to her. If she found somebody she loved, they’d know. Unlike some of the people in the clan Reign isn’t cold, or stiff, or unsocial. In fact she might be the most social person in the Clan she likes being around people, teasing them, daring them to do stupid things, goading them and seducing them with her crooked mischievous smile. Reigns looks fit her personality and her name perfectly. Dark and striking enough to intimidate, she’s more noticeable than other people, especially because of her fashion choices. She wears cloths that you won’t see anywhere else in the kingdom. Many people would call them to revealing, and that’s the point; to show her off. Reign enjoys the looks of other people, she can be a flirt, in a dangerous way, but you try to take advantage of her, you’ll find yourself dumped, bloody and broken in an alley. Despite all that, she knows how to blend in, and fade away in a forest so she can’t be found. Her skin is pale, but covered in colorful tattoos, that she’s been acquiring for years. Cross her back, and up her arms are dragons, wolves, flowers and complex designs. This is most of what Reign shows off with her immodest cloths. Reigns hair is soft and silky. Despite living with the Clan, she takes care of it, so it shines in the light. It goes down to her shoulder blades, and she keeps it in a ponytail most of the time, so it doesn’t get in her way when she’s fighting. It’s not some obscure, ever shifting color, like Kieran’s. It’s a midnight black, shocking against her pale and many-colored skin, it’s still beautiful. Beautiful and dark, tantalizing, just like the rest of her. Her eyes are the mystery; they are dark, foreboding and inviting at the same time. Even though they? Aren’t an easily identifiable color they’re so intense, so electric that you can almost feel her gaze on you, and you can’t help but turn and look back, caught. They’re beautiful and dangerous, like a fire. Even though her eyes will be the first think to catch your attention, they might not be the thing your care about the most, especially if you’re fighting her. Reigns built makes her look dainty and she moves like a dancer- graceful and sooth, completing the illusion. But don’t be fooled, she’s covered in wiry muscles, taunt and strong, a loaded spring. Despite her dainty looks Reign is tall, and as I’ve said she has muscles. she’s might be just a girl, and smaller than some of the men in the Clan, but she still leaves an impression She looks like someone you wouldn’t want to have to face down alone. People shudder to think they might have to, someday. Reign shows her loyalty to the Clan in a different way than most people. You already know her aversion to rules, and being ‘below’ somebody rank-wise. But you also know that Reign is whole heatedly loyal to the clan. That doesn’t mean that she might not sell secrets about its members, because Reigns loyalty is to the Clan, the idea of it, more that the individual people. But you can rest assured that after she’s got her money, shell go back and slit the throat of the lowlife who though they could use her. Reign is independent and will say what she thinks, just like her cousin. But there is a difference in their thinking Kieran will up and leave in he feels like it, but Reign will never leave. If the clan doesn’t like it, they can suck it up. This is her home, her only home and she won’t- she can’t leave. But she won’t put up with being treated bad either. Shell teach them a lesson; not to mess with her. Reign may seem like a bad subject, dishonest and disloyal, but look a little closer. If you can’t find it even then, it just shows that you don’t know Reign Mithras.
Sky
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I am a failure. There, I said it. F-A-I-L-U-R. I was from the moment was born- or created. The woman who could be called my mother was a scientist. She was doing experiments on me before I was born, and when I was born, she saw she had failed. She had tried to put bird DNA in me, while I was growing, but it didn’t work. My baby immune system rejected it or something. But still my mother persisted; there had to be something different about me. I couldn’t be completely normal, could I? And could she enhance that tiny abnormality? She did tests and experiments on me for years. When I was nine-ish, she stopped. At first I was confused. Had she forgotten about me? What was wrong? Her experiments were all I’d known. I hadn’t come to hate or fear them, because I didn’t know anything else existed. I had never not been in pain. I didn’t know what pain was. I thought I was supposed to hurt. Depressing isn’t it? And pathetic and sickening. After she stopped though, I had a chance to learn, learn that the experiments were bad and being ignored by the scientists was a relief. And with the knowledge came the fear. The terror and the rage. How dare they! I only got a short respite. After about 10 months the experiments started again, and this time they were 100 times worse. At least this time I had the other hybrids to support me. During those 10 months I got to know the other hybrids better, and the stalkers too. The stalkers don’t scare me, they just make me sad. I feel sorry for them, stuck in here with the rest of us freaks. I wonder what the scientists did to them? Most of them just look like normal humans. Are they just regular people? Then again, I shouldn’t talk. I’m just as much a freak as any other hybrid here, and I look like a regular human, for the most part. I’m slender and light, so maybe the bird DNA did do something after all, or maybe it’s just a coincidence. I don’t know if it’s this place, but whenever I look in the mirror I seem so bleached. My skin is pale and fine because it’s never seen the sun. I seem even paler than the other hybrids. I wonder if it’s because of their mutations that I don’t have. My hair is a little longer than shoulder length. Every so often the scientists cut it for their tests so it’s never really gotten long. It’s thin and almost wispy. The color doesn’t help. Its blond, almost as pail as my skin. You can barely see its golden tint, except when I’m in real sunlight. Sometimes I think about what I’d look like if I was allowed to dress up, use makeup and do my hair. I think I’d look beautiful. I always like to think my hair is pretty. I think it’s my best trait. Better than my pale bleached out eyes. I think I cried all the color out of them. But that isn’t what you want to hear about, is it? Anyway, I think they’re a shade of green. I always wonder, if they were brighter, would they be pretty? I like to think so. Despite being pale, my eyes always give away my emotions. I can smile all I want, but most of the time my eyes won’t reflect anything near happiness. I think I’m pretty. it’s a horrible thought and I hate myself for it, but I think I’m prettier than the others, because I’m a normal human. I don’t have any shark teeth, or a cow’s tail or a horses ears. I hate myself for thinking that, for thinking that somehow I’m better than these poor souls, who were tortured before they were even born. Maybe it’s because of how I’m treated. The stalkers and the Scientists treat me different. I think it’s because of my mother, the scientist. The stalkers leave me alone for the most part, or at least they don’t hurt me as much as they do the others. So I could have been subconsciously taught that I’m better. Or maybe its human nature to think that. If it is, I think I’d rather be a hybrid. Who am I kidding? I do want to be a hybrid. I want bird’s wings to fly, or a cat’s agility and balance, or a hundred other things. But despite my jealously, despite what I might think to myself, the poor hybrids are my friends. If I get treated better than them, then I’ve decided that I’m going to use that to help them, to protect them from the Stalkers. I try to think; we’re all the same, we’re all prisoners that have been tortured an experimented on. Whether we all have wolf fangs or not, we’re all in this together. I will try my best to burry my awful thoughts, and only think about helping my friends. I like to think that, so I can pretend to be strong for my friends, while I’m screaming and huddling on my bed after one of the scientist’s tests. I like to pretend to be strong, speaking up for them, yelling at the Stalkers, but it’s all I can do not to run when I see Jet. I try to be cheerful for them. Everything is better when you’re cheerful, but that doesn’t work. In here you’ve just got to be yourself, because that’s when you’re strongest. And “yourself” Isn’t something that can be described in words like this? You can’t describe what you’re feeling when you’re curled up in a corner, screaming, in utter terror, and boiling rage at a stalker to? Stop! Stop hurting me, stop hurting my friends!? I can’t describe anymore of who I am to you. It won’t do any good. You’ll just have to get to know me. And what else are we going to do, but band together and get to know one another when we’re all shut up in this Lab?
Velinya Aran
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Vela is fine. Don't look so surprised. Though if you've just come from the Weremyth's camp, I suppose you have a right to be. I'm not going to sit here for an hour to tell you my full name, or act like I'm royalty. The Myths have some nerve doing that, going on about pure blood, and how important they are. Though I guess you could say I was royalty anyway. All of the leaders are. Anyways, it’s nice to meet you, we hardly ever get visitors. You're staring. Probably wondering why we all look so neat and pretty if we live in a forest. Well its part of being what we are. We're all pretty, take me for example. My hair is very light gold, almost white. In the front it hangs to my upper back, but the rest is about shoulder length. Mostly its straight, but it can get wavy when it’s damp. My ears, which are cats, even when I'm in human form, are a darker cream then my hair. My skin is pale, which is the only feature about not made to make me prettier. You can see all my scratches, scars and bruises better on it. My eyes are a deep red, almost maroon-ish. And everybody tells me they make me look sad. I'm tall, and lithe, even in human form. I'm not big, or very strong, though I'm stronger than an average person, because an average person does not live in the wilderness. I look young for a leader, though in reality I'm about a century old. When I shift, I turn into a tiger sized cat. I'm less bulky than most tiger though, and faster. I'm all white, but when the sun catches my coat the right way, it gleams gold.my eyes are the same red. I'm a good leader; I can be patient, and caring, but I also know how to get the best out of people. I can be fierce, and I'm not all sweet. I'm stubborn, and I have a big temper, but I'll only get really mad a big things. Mostly I'll just be annoyed, or grumpy. I like to be in control, and I try not to show pain or weakness. I like being respected, and I should be. I have people looking down on me because I'm just a 'pretty little girl'. Well I'm not. I can probably beat you in any fight ten out of ten times. In my eyes girls are never inferior to boys, we are both equal. All Were's are equal, even the Myths with their puny little magic. They can think of themselves as better than us, but their wrong. Take away their magic, and I'll bet they have no good defense. I do. I'm good at fighting. I agile and quick, and though I'm not the strongest it still hurts when I hit you. I'm also smart, I'd have to be to be a leader, but I use my brains to be tricky, so it’s hard to get the upper hand even if were just talking. It may seem Like I'm bragging, but all this is true. You've heard me going on about the Myths, but not the others. Yes I'm sure they're all great people, but I just don’t like them, on principle. My mother was a part of the weremyths, and in a battle she was stuck between us, and them, the leader saw her hesitate, and made her tell him why. In the face of her betrayal she was thrown out, and the werecats would not accept her so she had to leave the forest. I of course blame the Weremyths, though I know it’s not fair, the old leader, and his Councilor are dead, the new leader in not responsible. Though I have gained one thing from my mother and her position that I'm grateful for, and that is the ability to speak telepathically. This mean I can communicate with the other Were's when I'm shifted and they are.
Zahava Noria
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As far as I can tell, I don't see why I should talk to you, but if you insist... You can call me Havah for now, it’ll be a change. Almost nobody but Jay calls me that. Jay is so much taller than me, it’s probably hard to tell that were the same age, twins even. We look nothing alike, and don't act similar either, but were almost always together. Jay is my best friend, sometimes he is my only friend. He is someone I can trust and rely on. I understand him, and he understand me, but that's not to say that we don’t fight, because we do, and that's when I wish I was taller. It's hard to intimidate someone a head taller than you are. I'm only 4'11', and I'm slim. Jay said I look like I'm thirteen, but I don’t think my size makes me look any younger, just smaller. Just like Jay doesn't look all that much older even though he's tall. I'm stronger than you'd expect from someone my size, especially stronger than a normal person, but compared to some of the other campers, not very much. I am faster than a lot of people though, that's the advantage of being small, and if I even get in a situation where I need to be taller, I've always got Jay. I'm I have been taught and trained for so long how to use my size that it’s no longer a disadvantage, most of the time, because I'm so agile and quick, so even if I can’t overpower an opponent, I can still stay away from their weapon. I have had more training than most people, Because of my size, and because of how we grew up. We've been fighting monsters since we were children, I think that gives us plenty more training and experience. Just like me, my hair is short, but like me again, it’s not any less, for its size. It’s basically strait and is just long enough to cover my ears. My bangs go down to my eyebrows, just short enough that they don't get in my eyes. It’s what catches your attention first when you look at me, because of its color. Its bright gold. Well not all gold, some of its lighter, and all of it is tinted with red, but its gold enough to catch the light and shine. See? That’s why its catches your attention first. My eyes are a bright blue, like a cloudless sky. They show my emotion easily, almost the opposite of my brother's. They are also what help to tell that I'm not a little kid. They say I know lots more than even a regular fifteen year old should. I know I'm beautiful, almost in a little kid way, but still pretty. Lots of people stare at me, and I know it annoys Jey how much attention I get from other boys. If anyone looks at me the wrong way, Jay has a knife pressed to their throat. But I don’t look like an innocent Angel, there's something fierce about my face, and there should be, I've been killing monster sense I was a little kid. Like maybe my skin is just as alabaster pale and smooth as Jay's but it doesn't stand out against my lighter hair and eyes, and I'm usually not scratched and bruised all over like he is. I always take care to keep myself injury free. Well okay, with less injuries than others. If you’re going to fall out of a tree, go climb a shorter one, and when you fall, less bruises. Jay doesn't even care, as long as he wins in practice, all bruises are okay with him. I'll win, but I'll be more careful, even if it means taking longer, that's fine with me. You wouldn't expect someone who will probably not go a day in her life without a bruise to be so, finicky about it, Jay doesn't get it, but that's the way I am. In many way our personalities are shaped by our history. I can’t remember ever having parents. We lived with an old couple, until we were eight and a half, but then they got sick. After that we left, to live on the streets. We lived with a group of other children, who together made up a 'gang'. Our lives consisted of mostly just fighting for food, against other gangs, and to protect our lives. Now I guess I'm grateful, that's what makes jay and I such good fighters in hand to hand combat. After a while a wandering knight found us and took us in. he hired us as his helpers. We went with him, and well, helped. We did all of chores for him, and took care of his horse, and making sure his armor was in good shape, and his weapons were clean. In return he taught us. He gave us lessons on fencing, and archery, and taught us how to handle a knife, and hunt, and protect ourselves. He even found out about our powers and helped us with that, though he didn't know very much himself, but he did tell us how to sense if danger was nearby. He was the closest to a father as we ever got. When we were fifteen, and had been traveling with him for five years, we stayed at an inn where a fortuneteller was. She offered to tell our fortunes, and here what a fortuneteller said is the truth. You don’t decline an offer like that, so the knight accepted for us. What the old lady said stunned us all, even her. She said we were royalty. We were the three years younger siblings of Queen Aerix Noria the second; we were the prince and princess. When we were born we had been kidnapped by the people who killed out mother, making Aerix the Queenling when she was three. Until that time nobody knew who we were or what happened. I don’t think we will ever know how we ended up on the old man and woman's doorstep in the first place. It seems like a story you'd hear, the lost Leoran Prince and Princess return to their rightful places after fifteen years? But I am happy we are here, with our royal power, and older sister, and lots of other nobles looking after us. This place is the best place we've ever been. We can take break here, rest and I don’t have to worry about Jay. So now you see, how our whole way of acting was affected by our pasts. I know, not bad compared to some, but it’s still hard. At least we've never lost anyone close, the only person I really know very well is Jay, and if he died, it wouldn't be 'loosing someone close' it would be more like ripping my other half away. Jay and I are withdrawn, we don’t have many friends, basically because, before we came to the palace we didn't trust very many people. Plus, we have always had each other, so we don’t need other friends. Before we get to know someone we want to make sure we can trust them, if they really don’t mean ill will. Because Jay has me, he doesn't take the effort to think it through, and become someone's friend, I’m more open. I think everything through anyway, so there's no big problem for me. That's basically the way we make friends, I meet them, and because I've already opened, up -sort of- Alex becomes there friend too. To other people I'd be a loyal friend for most anything, but if I have to choose between saving them, and helping Jay, they're dead meat. That means that if it puts me in danger I say no, because if I die then that would hurt Jay. Just about the only person who knows me well enough to be able to tell what my personality is, is Jay. Most people think were shy, but that's not the case. With someone I know I will open up, and even when I'm dealing with other people, I'm not timid, I just don’t talk to them at all much. I can be very fierce when I need to, I have to be. Being so small, I can let people walk over me, so I have to be assertive. Jay tells me I have a big voice for someone so small. Jay said that I'm always energetic because I'm so small, but I have the same energy level as other people, and that's true, I don’t get tired quicker, I have just as much stamina as others, and you already know that I'm faster than a lot of them. I'm stubborn, I'll do something just to prove I can. I'll disobey orders just to say that I can’t be told what to do. If I made a promise I'll keep it, and for the most part I don’t lie, though if I did, you would never be able to tell. Most because people just trust me, because they know I tell the truth. I do a lot of thinking, it’s always better to take a minute and find a plan, then rush in and get killed. Jay likes to dive into thing, if he ever gets that motivated, and usually it doesn't matter, he's fast, and tall, he has nothing to worry about. If I do that then I'll get chopped to pieces, so in a fight I rely more on strategy then on ability. I don’t like fighting, for obvious reasons, another way thinking helps. If I can figure out a way to solve the problem without fighting, bonus to me. Just by looking at Jay, anyone smart can tell he's dangerous, not just with a sword but his power too, you can almost see how powerful his power is. Nobody expects a pretty little girl to have such a dangerous power, but I do, just as dangerous as Jay's if not more so, for that reason. I catch everybody off guard. Jay and I have very similar Powers. They are hard to explain, but I guess you could call them nature or weather powers. its a combination of element powers; air and lighting, Sun, moon, ice, even some water, and stone. It's not just that I have them all, I have aspects of them, that lend to the one power that I have. I can make water swirl around, or move a storm. I could make a storm, or make the rain fall away from me. I could turn the tide, or make it snow in a desert. I can list all the things I can do, I could think up almost limitless possibility's. Big things, like creating a hurricane, our small things like calling a rock to me, or freezing water. My powers make me almost too powerful, I'm not afraid of natural disasters, because that's what my powers is, and I'm not afraid of fights, because I still have the power to face down a tsunami, and I'm sure, and mortal foe is less powerful than that. But the same thing that makes me powerful makes me week. I have a limited about of energy, one big thing would drain me, and I can only do so many little things at a time. Without my powers I am a lot more vulnerable; and if I didn't have the strength to use my powers, I wouldn't have the strength to do anything else ether. If Jay and I combined power there would be nothing we couldn't do, but that is not the point. Jay and I rarely use our full powers, and almost nobody knows the extent of our powers. You'd think after all that, that I would only use my powers if I absolutely had to, but that is not the case, that would just make me weaker. My powers are part of my, and I use them all the time, but mostly for relatively small things.