Arile Anka Kusu
Nothing is
as it appears. The only person we can truly understand is ourselves, only we
know all of our reasons and motives and thoughts and regrets. And so we are the
only ones who can judge ourselves, and the only ones who can accept ourselves.
That is a lesson that means everything to Arile. It means that whoever we are,
our actions are not meaningless; they mean as much as any others. That idea has
kept Arile going and given him the courage to learn and grow and adapt. Arile
can count himself lucky in many ways, he grew up in a rich household, with the
ability to ask for anything he wanted. He learned to take it for granted. But
that doesn’t mean he was blissfully happy, his woes might seem insignificant to
others, but they were still as large as life for him. His father never forgave
him. Arile was the youngest son, the little sweetheart and Thomen Anka Kusu
felt betrayed. He didn’t hate his son, but Arile could hear the disappointment
in his voice and see it in his eyes. When Arile was ten his parents split, it
was a horrible bitter year for the whole family. Arile’s brother, Kraan
couldn’t stand it, leaving for the Academy a year early. And when he came back,
he wasn’t tainted by any touch of it, neither parent blamed him and both
welcomed him back. Arile wasn’t so lucky. He could have gone to the Academy,
but his father though he was too young, that he could get a better education
from private tutors. So Arile stayed, sitting in his room, trying to tune out
the shouting when his parents fought. He couldn’t stand it either, how they
both stopped listening and just started shouting and become so unreasonable. He
couldn’t stand the horror stories they each told him about the other. He didn’t
want to know, he didn’t know how to respond and it hurt both of his parents
when he sat there mute, trying to tune them out. Arile hated it, he didn’t want
to hurt them more when they were already so upset. But what could he do? Trying
to mediate didn’t help either, they both turned on him, angry that he hadn’t
picked a side, angry at any concession he tried to persuade them to give. Arile
had no close friends at the time, he had no way to escape so he turn inwards,
burning all his bridges and isolating himself. It meant he could never have
close friends to turn to, in the future. But Arile wasn’t thinking about his
life, he was too busy tuning it out to notice. He receded into himself and his
room, reading and writing and learning. Living in different worlds, far away or
fictional. Both so much better than reality. Science was safe. There was so
much he could be exited and interested about, with no string attacked, without
having to rely on people. That was
another reason for Thomen’s disappointment. With Kraan perusing a course in lawmaking,
Thomen wanted his second son to follow his own footsteps, becoming a politician
on the council. Arile had other ideas. He wanted to learn about the world,
about chemistry and biology and physics and magic, not hear statistics about
people. People were boring and dirty and corrupt. That doesn’t make him
antisocial. He’s not the same as his father, he can’t make speeches and charm
people, he doesn’t understand their little games, he understand all the
suffering in the world. He was taught to be chivalrous, to listen before
judging. If anything his lack of
experience has maybe made him kinder. Arile will never be street-smart. He’s
quick to trust, jumping into situations that more world-weary people would know
to be frightened of or avoid. But he’s smart enough that his mind almost makes up
for it. As quick as he is to trust, he’s also quick to re-asses and realize
when he needs to get out, to avoid getting hurt. He has a scientist’s cynicism
and logic and clarity. He knows that everything can change and the truth can
hurt. It’s a good, removed way of looking at things, and it helped Arile get
through the loss of his mother. His whole family was having a hard time, but
angry as he was at both of his parents, Arile didn’t want to see her go. He
wanted to be angry at her and at his dad, especially when he started dating.
Arile wanted to hate Thomen and his new stepmom, but he couldn’t. She
understood him. She had lived among humans for half her life and was a fiction
writer. She understood his love of books and solitude and learning. She helped
him get access to Humani science resources and tried to help him with his
powers, even though she was a shifter. Magic enthralled Arile more than any human
science, he loved having his powers and learning to control them, he loved his
fire, even as a child, before his parents split his favorite thing was to sit
in front of the fireplace with his mother and create shapes out of the fire.
Arile learned almost everything he could about his power, and about elven and
shifters powers too. He’s learned how to really control it, how to shape his fire
with a thought. He can give it a task and watch how it accomplishes it. Fire
has its own laws, and sometimes he thinks, its own will. Arile has even learned
to leave his body, not very well, and not for long, but just five or ten
seconds is enough to make him giddy, even if it drains him. If there was a type
of person who could accomplish it, it would be Arile, he’d totally dedicated to
his fire, so much that his step-mom nicknamed him the phoenix. It fits him, a
being of fire with more magical strength that it looks. Arile is slim and no
taller than average. He runs for exercise, but he’s not very dedicated, and not
very muscular. Are of his features are fine and light, making him look more
like his Nordic mother than his Turkish father. His hair is pale golden blond,
longer than normal for a boy. That,
coupled with features that are so fine and soft, Arile looks beautiful, almost
feminine, but not quite. His eyes are wide and bright, their color matching the
fire within him, burning red and orange gold. They are the only thing that
really show the energy contained it Arile, not energy for physical things, but
energy for learning, energy for his magic. He looks wise, something strange for
a young person, but in his own way he is. Arile has learned how to really see
the world, and how to really listen. He’s learned to accept things and not be
afraid of new situations. He learned to love his father and his step-mom, he
even learned to love his new baby sister. It hit all of them hard when she
died. They knew how few elemental-crosses survived, but she was nearly a year
old, and getting stronger. Everyone was angry and sad and stressed. The house
was tense, almost like they were waiting for the fight. It wasn’t even about
the baby, it started with something about Ariles mom, but he can’t even
remember what he yelled, or what Thomen did. He remembers when his father
slapped him, and he remember when he burned his father, because he is too well
trained to say his powers went out of control. It was deliberate. It ended when
his step-mom found them, the rug burning around where Arile was on the floor.
She had to hold them with magic to get them so stop. After that Arile couldn’t
stay in the house. Arrangements were quickly made for him to go the Academy for
the next year and Arile fled the house, going to stay with a friend of his
parents, whose nephew was also going to the Academy. He didn’t know Casimir well,
only having met him a few times, but Arile felt more comfortable in the relative
solitude than he had at his own house. Casimir respected his privacy and his
quirks and made him feel welcome for his short stay. The Academy is an
adventure for Arile. He’s always though of it as an escape, a place he’s been
dreams about. Since Kraan went, escaping the turmoil, Arie has wanted to
follow, to find himself a place there with other people who he has a fresh
start with. Arile has never very lucky with his family, but the rest of his
life has been privileged compared to many and he feels bad ‘complaining’ about
it. He isn’t the kind of person who need a confidant to unload his problems to,
he’d rather just distract himself, reading or writing or talking to that person
about something else. That doesn’t mean he won’t talk about it, he’ll bring it
up if there’s a point to it, or if someone asks specifically. Arile appreciates
his friends for who he knows they are, not for what else they might be hiding
inside, and he doesn’t really care what else there is, if they’re hiding it. He
goes on what he sees of people, if they’re nice to him or if they need help. No
person is too strange for Arile to handle. Everybody has crap that happens to
them, but you don’t need to let that crap define you. You can’t understand a
person fully, no matter how close you watch, and that’s okay, Arile believes
that you can make your decisions and judgments about people from what they are willing
to show. After all, they are the only ones who will really be able to judge and understand themselves, so in the end
nothing else matters.
Leonard Ottoe
Humans are ever changing, ever adapting and that is no less true for any of the Folk, as old a wise as they may be. Sometimes things stay the same through fire and flood but sometimes it only takes a little push to swing the balance in a totally different direction. Sometimes change is for the best, sometimes for the worst and sometimes it simply is. That is something Leo had to learn all too well. His life has been two sides of a coin and when it flipped, everything changed. Black turned to white, up to down. It changed him too; it molded him into a completely new person, at least outwardly and for someone who was as big an extrovert as he was, outward appearances mean a lot. Leo was always the one in the middle of the group, the one everybody knew. Leo had it all. He was popular, the top jock, most of the girls loved him, and he was in advanced classes, but nobody could be envious. He was friends with everybody, even the kids who weren't popular. Leo never conformed to that kind of thing, he barely even noticed it at at all. People wanted to know him; they wanted to win his attention, his approval almost. He was magnetic, overflowing with natural charisma, and he could talk. Leo knew exactly what to say, exactly how to act to make people happy, to make them feel good about themselves. At fourteen he could have been writing speeches for politicians. That was part of his elven powers at work. Leo grew up knowing abut the folk world, but living mostly in the human world. This meant he never had a chance to really learn about his magic, so it manifested by itself, giving him and his sister unusual powers. Leo always knew what people needed, like he could tell what they were thinking and feeling and subconsciously interpreted what he had to do. Even if he himself was feeling down, he could always hide it, and cheer up those around them. He seemed to change other people's personalities. With a power like that he could easily have turned it around and become the worst bully, but that wasn't who Leo was. Instead he befriended bullies and got them to stop. Leo can't chalk all of that up to his powers though. He could try, but humans are shallow so to them looks mean a lot and Leo had looks. His elf blood already puts him ahead of the game, giving him the characteristic fine features, high check bones and overall elegance of the Folk accompanied by a sharp nose, and a strong jaw. Leo is tall, standing two inches taller that his sister. His build is lanky; slim like most elves, but strong from all his sports. His skin is the creamy color of most elven, but slightly tanned room his time in the sun. Despite that, you can see scrapes and scars from past injuries easily; Leo doesn't bother to hide them. Like most boys he used to show them off proudly to his friends. His dark eyes and hair contrast his skin. His hair is black; it's feathery and soft so his friends would always mess it up. Fortunately it doesn't take much maintenance or it'd look bad because he wouldn't bother. It's just long enough that it can fall in his eyes and bug Jasmyne until she wants to sneak up and cut it off while he's asleep. Having Jasmyne as a sister taught him to be observant though, and most of the time he's able to spot any sneak attacks in time. His eyes are dark, to match his hair, but not black. If you look closely under his bangs they're a blue grey. Leo never learned how to control his emotions beyond normal, but his eyes are particularly expressive, just hidden behind his bangs where not many people noticed when they didn't reflect his smile. His smile is dazzling. When you see him talking to Jasmyne across the room, grinning, and laughing silently you'll want to go meet him, want to make him smile again. Making other people smile was easy for Leo, but getting him to smile, and actually mean it is harder. He's a teenage boy, already mopey and dramatic, when you add in magic, and his life turning up-side-down. Sometimes he would shut himself in his room to just mope. He always felt selfish and silly for feeling bad about himself when the entire school liked him, but he just felt like we was missing something. A best friend, somebody he could really talk to, who knew him for being more than just pretty and charismatic. For somebody so popular, he was remarkably private, more removed from his friends than they'd think. He used to have someone though. In middle school his best friend was also his girlfriend and he could talk to her about anything. Her parents disapproved though, and when they moved away the next year they made sure she couldn't contact him anymore. That taught Leo to be protective. He has a fierce streak that rarely surfaces, but if somebody he cares for is in danger, he can have quite a temper. He'd put his life in danger without hesitation. In some ways he'd be a good bodyguard, but he was raised as a normal human boy, he doesn't have the responsibility or concentration to go trough the training or spend his entire life fighting and living to protect somebody else. It's not that Leo is a pacifist; like a regular teenage boy, violence is exiting. One of the best parts about the academy is that he gets to learn how to fight. He's not too shabby at it either, Leo has always been dedicated to practicing his sports and he has a knack for picking it up. Those skills and learning more abut his magic has given Leo a sense of freedom. He can wander off on his own, explore, and try new things. For a boy who seams like he's always got his sister by his side he's more adventurous that expected. Before it would have been normal, but Leo isn't the same as before. He doesn't talk. He stopped the night his life changed. He swore to himself that he wouldn't say anything about that night to anyone, and from that moment on, he hasn't uttered a word. His silence was partly a choice, but partly something he had to do. It was his way of coping, of loosing his life and keeping it sealed inside. His life was changing around him, crumbling so he took control of something, made some part of the change his own choice. The silence was what really cut him off from his old life, what changed him into a new person. He was no longer the popular boy who talked to everybody. That night made him grow up in a hurry, but it also made him revert back a little to someone more cautious, more wary, more likely to stick behind his big sister. He became more reclusive, less open. It was hard for him. Especially when he choice came back to hurt him. When he made the choice not to talk, something inside of him switched off. His magic destroyed his voice, making his physically as well as mentally mute. Making it impossible for him to go back. He couldn't communicate easily with people anymore, couldn't instantly make them like him. Being around smiling, laughing, talking people hurts him because he can no longer be in the middle, making them smile. He lost all his old friends after that night, and the new people he met saw a shy, strange kid hiding beside his sister. They didn't understand that he couldn't talk, and when he traveled to the Folk world his way of sensing people didn't work as well. But slowly he's getting better at it. It helps that here he can communicate mentally with other people beside his sister. He may never be as charismatic and popular as he once was, but things are different now and maybe change isn't all bad. Now he can make 'real' friends, people who he really know and care for. Even without that, even if he never learned to talk to other people again he'd have Jasmyne. Everything has only brought them closer. Jasmyne is more than just a regular older sister. She's his whole family, everything he has. Before that night Leo never really bonded with his family. His parents thought they were very close, but to Leo it was the same way that everybody else was at school. He never let them in, and he did it in a way that he parents didn't even know. Jasmyne was always closer to their father, so Leo was closer to their mother, almost by default. Their mother was stricter and she and Jasmyne never got along well. Leo could use his powers to tell what he had to do to pacify her. He used his powers with Jasmyne and his father too, a lot of the time he had to mediate between Jasmyne and their mother. Despite all that he still loved his mother and father. They were still his family and he would would have wished for what happened. It happened when he was almost fifteen. One night he came home from a friends house and his parents were panicking. His mother was crying and his dad was yelling. Leo had no idea what was going on, but he tried to comfort his parents. For a few minute it worked until his mother jumped up screaming and shaking. She forced him out the door and told him to run and not to look back, to go find Jasmyne and to stay away, to hide, anything, just not to be seen.Leo couldn't leave his parents though. He hid in the bushes outside the house, climbed onto the roof and looked it. He watched through the window until he couldn't believe his eyes, until he couldn't stand it anymore. That was where Jasmyne found him, her fifteen year old brother sobbing and shaking sitting on the roof. From that point on he never said a word. He knew that his choice, not to talk, and the magic consequences that came with it devastated Jasmyne, who felt that she was losing him as well as everything else. For the first few days after she got home and snuck back into the house to find a letter their parents had left for them along with two plane tickets, telling them to go to New Secrete Academy Leo traveled in silence, but he couldn't stand to make his sister any more miserable that she already was so he found a way to use his awakening elven power to talk to her telepathically. At first he didn't know anything about his powers, but at the Academy he learned more, and realized he could communicate with other people that way. But Jasmyne will still always be the first person he turns to. Leo is satisfied to let his older sister take care of him for the most part. It makes him feel better, like their family isn't so broken, but if Jasmyne is ever in trouble, he can be just as protective, maybe even more so. Jasmyne is all he has now.
Lin Suoh Alontaire, Queen of the Student Council
Lin is beautiful; that’s the first thing about her, but by no means the most important. Lin is stunning, she pouts and flirts and gets her way. She has perfect control of herself; she knows what her body can do. But she also knows what she can do. Lin sees her beauty as a tool; her self-worth isn’t built off of what she looks like. When she doesn’t need to be pretty she acts like she’s forgotten she should be. With those who don’t care, or when she’s not being particularly ladylike it would shock some people how at odds her actions are with her delicate figure. Her magic too. Lin was taught to think of her powers as tools or weapons, not artistically. She’ll be strong and crude instead of careful. And she’s relies on spells much more than shifting. Though she’s a cross, Lin has never had formal training in her shifter powers. Her mother, who was responsible for her education, was a full elf. Lin’s great grandfather, Jasper, abdicated as he died, giving up the throne to the rule of the elven/shifter/elemental inclusive council. But his daughter and grandchildren were taught to rule as any princess would have been. Because of that, Larina, Lin’s mother, became the third Head Councilwoman. She educated Lin to follow in her footsteps. If the old system had remained in power though, Lin would not just have been a Secrete, but twice royal. Lin’s father was an Alontaire, a descendant of the last shifter queen and only a generation away from the Arlanders. He left his noble family when he met Larina, and gave up any inheritance he might have gotten. Something the Arlanders and Alontaires never forgave him and Larina for, especially when he died only a few years later. It was a disease that many people caught. Lin alone was safe, isolated in her rooms for weeks until her mother began to recover. But her father did not, nothing they did helped. When Nikan died, Larina was heartbroken. She isolated herself and refused to see anyone but Lin. Lin was old enough to be deeply hurt as well, but to her credit, and her teacher’s credit, she took care of things when her mother would not. Lin kept the household from falling apart and notified the council that her mother was on leave. It was Lin who got Larina back on her feet. After that, Larina realized her daughter needed more so Lin was sent to New Secrete. There she met Aruji, and her dispute with the education council started. She told them point blank they were idiots for promoting Aruji when the boy was obviously floundering as the Emperor. Lin’s pride has not made her many friends, especially on the council. But she didn’t let it make her hold anything against Aruji. Quite the opposite, she fell in love with him. She had only training and he’d had nothing but a few months experience. They helped each other, became friends and eventually partners. Lin was one of the youngest Queens, but Aruji was one of the youngest emperors. At first, Lin wasn’t accepted. People saw her as just a pretty face. Briar was the first; he was Aruji’s close friend and they came to an understanding of sorts. Lin would have stayed with Aruji forever, if he hadn’t died. One day he was just gone. Briar found signs of a struggle and they had to conclude that he was dead….Until he came back. He apologized and kissed Lin and told her that he had to get out, that he was happier in the Humani word where he had his freedom. He asked her to come with him. Lin refused; she was furious. She was humiliated. She’d grieved and she and Briar helped each other to move on, and it was all unnecessary. Lin’s pride wouldn’t let her accept Aruji back. She told him this was goodbye and kicked him out. Lin couldn’t hate him, not really, but she knew they couldn’t be together again, especially not then. She told the world that New Secrete was her school now and Aruji could go tell the council she didn’t give a crap what they thought of her being the Empress. Lin proved to everyone who had scoffed that she was capable of running the school by her. She ran the school just fine and with less help than many Emperors before her because she only had Briar, while previous Emperors had had a full Student Council. It took the council nearly a year to find another emperor; Ender. He swept into the school taking Lin by surprise. She refused to give up all her power to him and the two had to work side by side, butting heads for nearly two years before they made their peace and became friends. They helped each other grow and learn. Lin became more self-aware and learned to understand other people better. Neither were perfectly easy to get along with. Lin, dedicated to the school so proud, and Ender, more independent and quicker to jump, were not a good match. It hurt Lin at first that he was doing the same things Aruji had done, only he was doing them differently, and he would never love her. The council tried multiple times to depose her,; it was unheard of for the Queen to take over and stay in power when a new Emperor came, especially when she was his queen. But Lin stayed resolute. And they weathered multiple battles and plots together, protecting the school from the AE and fending off kidnappers coming for her. She was sad to see him go, in the end. But with a new emperor and a new year came new possibilities, for the school, and for her to find someone to take Aruji’s place in her heart. She has high hopes for gentlemanly Zane. Lin certainly looks the part of a good queen, not many can dispute that. Everything about her seems warm and golden. Her skin is beautiful caramel color, smooth except for a few small scars. Lin eyes are her best trait. Their brightness makes them appear large in her face, yet the color is soft. They are a deep amberish color, almost red or pink in some lights. They are expressive eyes, changing from warm and kind to icy cruel in a second. Lin features are fine, delicate, but still strong; small defined nose and sharply pointed years, hidden behind her hair for the most part, accentuated full red lips that can make any expression more beautiful. Lin face is framed by bangs. The rest of her hair sweeps down to her waist in gentle waves. It is thick and soft, the same gorgeous pale gold that you can see on the clouds when the sun sets. It is a gentle, warm color that makes you want to touch it. Lin knows just how to accentuate herself, what to wear, how to do her make-up, how to tease and curl her hair into the perfect thing so she looks just right wherever she goes. Even on a lazy day, she can look good in a sweatshirt. Lin is tall and long legged, able to look most guys in the eye and only an inch shorter than Briar. Her height accents her lithe, curvy athlete’s body. She is lightly muscled, from training and genetics. And in a fight, Lin can be deadly. She can even hold her own against Briar- for a minute or two. She’s fast and as gracefully agile as a dancer. She has been fighting since she was a child, and not just in practice fights. Lin is a good queen, she knows what responsibility means. She’s also learning to be harder. Being a ruler is more than being liked. She has blood on her hands. She’s made mistakes and she fixed them with words or with weapons. Lin knows that sometimes all that matters is getting the job done. Her beauty doesn’t make her incompetent; there is more to her than looks. If you get right down to it, Lin can be a brat. She’s knowledgeable and responsible, but she’s spoiled and arrogant. She’s a princess. Lin has always had too much to be proud of, and she’s proud of herself. She won’t ask for help, and if you offer it she’ll try to scare you off before she accepts it. She has herself to prove, and she knows she can do it. Lin refuses to be looked down on. When she’s told she doesn’t know anything, that she’s just a petty girl, she will refuse to listen. Lin has very blue blood and while she won’t treat nobility any different from anybody else, she’s proud of her families and proud that she belongs to them. For the longest time, Lin expected recognition and respect and she was miffed that people didn’t like her for her high-and-mighty attitude. She’s growing up, away from that now, but there’s still a part of her who just wants the spotlight, who says “I am the queen and I have every right to act important. This school is under my authority and I don’t expect to be belittled here”. Lin enjoys talking to people, helping the students in her school. Those few times when there are difficulties, Lin doesn’t mind for the most part. She likes a good argument and she agrees with Dance that if nothing happens, life gets boring. There’s a few thing her pride won’t lead her to do. If she lies or cheats or kills or steals, it is not her pride talking, it’s not some need to win. Lin feels no need to complete a stupid dare. If she has to teach somebody lesson to stop being disrespectful or dangerous, she’ll do it. But if it’s just for sport, she take all the name calling you can throw at her and give an infuriating grin right back. She’s not competitive. Lin knows that as a leader, if she gets riled up over something silly, she’s putting the entire school at risk, and for her school, she’ll swallow her anger. Lin can be remarkable stubborn, to the point of acting like a child. On some things she will refuse to budge no matter what. That also makes her incredible loyal to the school, and those she loves. When you really know Lin, and you’ve gotten over her pride, she is one of the best friends a person could have. Lin is caring and understanding and when she’s really wrong, her pride won’t let her keep silent. To her, it’s more honorable to admit when she’s truly wrong. If you’re even at the end of your rope, confused, or lost. If you’re ever in need of guidance, Lin will be the best thing you could possibly see. She will lead you to safety, take control and make things right. In the end, she might not know how to show it, but her mother and her teacher and all her friend and experiences have left her with a good heart.
Nazra Lagata- Salavarki, Bodyguard of the Jack
Nazra is…
different. She’s crazy. It comes from her blood; Salavarki blood. Those strange
folk called Salavarkis follow their own unique paths, even among their own kind.
Nazra’s just happens to be rather more unusual. She was born on an entirely
different continent to a bored shifter mom and a runaway Salavarki dad. Nazra
has never bought into the European Salavarki’s powerplay. That wasn’t the way
she was brought up. She was born on a Sioux reservation and left with the
shaman lady a month afterword. Geila knew her daughter would be cared for
there, but she was a pure shifter and as unpredictable and shifty as her magic.
She could not stay still, could not deal with being tied down by family. Nazra’s
Salavarki father was also pure shifter, and the flighty tendencies that had
taken him to America also carried him away from Geila and his daughter. The
shaman who raised Nazra knew she wasn’t human. The tribe regarded Geila as a
myth, a spirit, and Nazra was raised as the daughter of such. When Nazra was five, her father sought
her out, but not to claim her. Instead he left Nazra’s half-brother with her.
Crayton was the only blood relative that Nazra ever knew. In the eyes of the
tribe however, he was illegitimate. Nazra was the daughter of their Lady Spirit,
but Crayton was just the son of the man who’d left her. They treated him with
distain until Nazra grew up and started causing trouble. Then they were both
given a wide berth. That was when Nazra started getting in fights. This was not
something her mother had ever done. Her violent tendencies came from her
Salavarki blood. More passive Crayton always tried to discourage her, but Nazra
was a natural at fighting. She had no qualms about beating anybody up, and her
foster family could do nothing to stop her, so the fights continued until the
day a boy was found dead. The Sioux were furious and horrified at their Lady
Spirit. The shaman ordered Nazra to turn herself into the police and Nazra
refused; it was just a human boy, and he got what was coming to him. So her
foster family turned her in. Crayton heard what they were planning and warned
her, helping her escape before the police came. The humans couldn’t find her.
Nazra knew enough about her power to fool them completely. When she was finally
found, it was by her Salavarki father who was impressed, not angry. He took her
to the only Salavarki School in the Americas. Nazra was thrilled at the power
she had at her fingertips, thrilled at what she could do, thrilled to be Salavarki.
At first. Before the rest began to drive her crazy. The discipline, the responsibility,
the loyalty, the remoteness she was expected to learn warred with her shifter
heritage, wit who she was. She wanted to change and move, to do her own thing
and not be controlled by council of stuffed up old people thousands of miles
away. After the skills and power became a part of her and she started to take
them for granted, she learned to hate the rest. Nazra learned to hate the
European Salavarki’s who were dictating what she must do without even knowing
her. One day she decided that being a Salavarki wasn’t what she really wanted in
her life, so she walked out, right past her teachers. She went back to the
Sioux reservation, the only home she’d ever known. Maybe just to find Crayton,
maybe hoping that her old family had forgiven her. Fresh out of her school,
mind set against the Salavarki’s she was not prepared to hear that her brother
had gone missing, a casualty of band of criminal folk working against the Salavarkis.
Nazra did not want to hear that her little brother had been killed for being a
Salavarki. It really pushed her over the edge for a while, until her father
found her again and told her she was making a menace of herself. He told her
that the Salavarki council was looking for her and she could either go to them
as a criminal, or as a true Salavarki, ready for work. Nazra chose to work. It was
pure irony that she was sent to guard Kris Breifne, to straighten him out. The
assignment was as much to straighten her out as him. At first Nazra was icy and
disdainful, angry that she was being forced back into being a Salavarki after
she had decided against it, angry that she had to babysit for some stupid
European well-to-do family and annoyed
that she had to do it in the freakin’ Himalayas. Nazra dislikes the cold; she
is probably the only Salavarki who won’t go outside without a parka if it’s
less those 40 degrees out. Eventually though, she warmed to Kris Breifne. He
was messed up; she was messed up, they made a nice pair. Nazra came to realize
that this was what she was meant for, that she was supposed to be
a Salavarki. Maybe it was an unusual arrangement, but it was still a proper
Salavarki post and it was her calling. Nazra was willful and independent and
completely loyal. Nothing could ever make her betray Kristopher Breifne. Nazra
taught Kris many things, like how to move gracefully and how to defend himself.
She also taught him to use his shifter powers to their full, how to use them
and love them. Nazra’s shifter tendencies run deeper than most. Despite that,
she’s always been the most comfortable in one “true form”. The real her. Nazra is petite; compact and short. Kris
stands at least a head taller than her, but she can be so imposing that her
height barely matters. Her skin is a few shades darker than her European
relatives, a testament to her Native American mother. As are her fine features.
Her hair is dark too. Its color is caught somewhere between red, brown and
black. Chocolate with hidden highlights of auburn that can catch the light,
suddenly turning to copper. After much trauma Nazra has cut is short, leaving
it spikey. A fitting frame for her face. Nazra’s eyes are fluid hazel; they can
go from warm to icy in a second, depending on a temperament that is just as shifty
as the rest of her. Nazra will decide she loves or hates somebody for no particular
reason. She’ll get upset about little things and then just wave off the big
things. Kris was the one thing that is always steady in her life. In the fact
that Nazra would remain faithful to guarding him and protect Kris with
everything she has, Nazra followed her instructions to the letter. But her
instructions weren’t her motivation. She did it for herself and she did it her way. Nazra has no honor as a Salavarki.
She doesn’t care about things like responsibility and reputation. Social
climbing has never been a priority and she doesn’t care about rank, or what
other people think of her. Nazra doesn’t want to be a legend like Briar, she
just wants to Kris’s bodyguard. That’s always what she will consider her true
job, even if she is stranded away from him, stuck at the school that he
escaped. She doesn’t follow Salavarki protocol; as long as she and Kris came
out okay, anything went. Nazra certainly doesn’t act like a professional. She
dumped that attitude the second she stepped out of her school. “I am not a
piece of statuary and I will not behave like one.” Is what she will tell anyone
who cares to inquire. Nazra knew who she was before she went to the Salavarki
School, and she’s determined to remain her own person. Just as she refused to
let the Salavarkis teach her any other accent; her accent comes from the Native
tongue she’s fluent in. It’s not an accent that many could identify, and it’s
not close enough to be compared with any other. Nazra is snarky and smug. She’s
flirty and sarcastic and while she’s not to be crossed, sometimes you have to
take her lightly. Despite the fact that she and Kris made their own drama, and
quite a lot of it Nazra could never stand anybody else’s drama, especially females.
Even if they weren’t very dramatic other girls, especially if they weren’t
Salavarki’s were always too…feminine for her. Nazra was raised by males. The Shaman
lady was her only female influence, but Crayton and her father and especially
Kris were the ones who made an impression on her, and she will always be most
comfortable around guys. When she needs somebody to talk to, or just be near it
won’t be her change, even if they are male, Kris will always be her true
charge, and Nazra will prefer to find another guys friend to go to. She can be
rather selfish. Like a cat, she thinks she has the right to whatever she wants.
Nazra would never sink so low as to petty murder, in her view, but she has no
qualms with killing or stealing. Nazra isn’t a disgusting, hateful person but
she’s not the easiest to get along with either. Kris was the one who know her,
who understood her to her core. He truly understood her and she truly
understood him, and they loved each other for it. Not in a necessarily romantic
way, because he was much too flighty for that but Nazra knew she would stay
with Kris the rest of her life, marry him maybe. No matter what he did, how many
times he had to get away from her with another girl, Nazra would accept him for
who he was and love him and remain his guard. But all of that was robbed from
her when he disappeared, and she doesn’t know when she’ll get it back. The Salavarki
council had decided that both she and Kris were as ‘straightened out’, as they
could be and staying go there any longer wouldn’t help either of them. So they forbid
her to leave the academy and look for him. Nazra didn’t listen, she left and she looked
and eventually the council caught her and she faced the consequences of her
actions. Nazra could have cared less. It didn’t matter if Kris wouldn’t be
there anyway. When they brought her back to the castle Nazra was a different person,
cold angry to the rest of the students and bodyguards, like she was before she
knew Kris. The Education Councils choice didn’t help her, but it woke her up,
so she shook herself off and stopped sulking. She wouldn’t resent Kenna and she
would go out and find people she could stand. Kris could deal without her, and
she would deal without him. Nazra will always be different. She’s crazy, in a
good way or a bad way, it’s hard to tell, But it’s all her.
Nymeris Zoloto Galaza
That name should be remembered. It should bring respect or
fear as Salavarki does. But it
doesn’t even bring recognition. My family served the folk empire before the
humans took over the earth. They were guards and warriors and assassins. Grim
reapers coming in the night. My family was famous before Arowyn was born; my
ancestor taught her and walked beside her as a brother. And then we fell. We were called criminals
and stripped of our honor. We became beggared. People hated us when the
remembered us at all. They forgot the glory that their ancestors had bestowed
upon ours. They forgot the gratitude they owed us for their lives. We were
pushed into the shadows. Our once glorious role and heritage became ‘dirty
work’. As if! Assassination, guarding, is more honorable, cleaner than any of
your wars. We don’t get stuck in guilt or hesitation. Our work is what it is,
we don’t question morality; there would be no point. We know that we kill and
we know what the world thinks about it, but to us it is not bad or good. We
withhold all judgment, we work for pay. The ones who hire us are where the credit
lays. The one the death rests on is them, and it they who decide if it is good
or bad. It is for them to be guilty, or content, not for us. We are merely the
messengers. I have no problem killing. I
have seeing much death, and it is not that I have become numb or twisted; I
have just been taught that death is not bad. There are many worse fates than
death, and those we kill don’t suffer. They feel only a prick of a poison dart
or only a few moments of agony and then they are gone and the little pain they
suffered does not matter anymore. They become blissful nothingness. I don’t
fear death, in my time I will welcome it. I will not grow old, I will go out
with a bang, while I am still strong and happy. Old age revolts me, getting
weak and brittle and ugly. Losing my power, being trapped in a body that is
already decaying around me until I go crazy and turn senile. Old age is
painful, even for me now, looking at it hurts. How can people stand to live on
like that? And how can the ones who love then stand to sit by, patching them
up, not allowing them to escape the hell their life has become? I watched my
great grandmother go that way and I will never sit and watch and do nothing
again. My grandmother was a great woman and a great Zoloto. She brought us
honor in the ways she could. She should not have met with such an end. It was
at her insistence that my father was trained, Thanos and I after him. For her I
will work. I will finish her what she wanted, and bring honor to her memory. I
will bring this family out of the shadows and show the world we are not to be
looked down upon. I started when I was two. My mother sat me down and taught me
to read, and then she taught me math and history and writing. She told me that
I would never be able to catch up with the other people in our world assassin
training I would have no time for that sort of thing. When I was nine my
assassin training started. I learned tactical history and select sciences; I
learned of explosives and other chemistry, and anatomy. I learned how to move
and what to do with my body. I learned to be silent and face and efficient. I learned how to control my magic, to use the spells my ancestors had perfected, and I learned what it meant for a Zoloto to be a cross. The Zolotos served the Secretes, by fathers line is pure-blood elf as far back as records go. My brother and I are the first crosses, and the ability to shift is something that has never been more precious. I learned to use it for little things, for spying and escaping or fitting in. My training
was quick compared to what a Salavarki goes through, but I was learning
different things. I did not need to learn advanced offensive fighting. Simple
self-defense sufficed. My family has not only learned the art of assassination,
but they have perfected how to teach as much as they can in as little time as
they can. I was pushed to my limits and beyond with not rest for three years. I
learned to be tough and smart and silent, but most importantly I learned to
kill. I spent hours one eye squinted and the other looking down the barrel of a
gun. hours memorizing formulas for bombs and poisons. Three years after my
training started I was given my first mission, and my first break. It was a
test, to see what I could do well and what I needed more training on, before I
can go through with the ordeal. I was not done quite yet. They sent me with
Thanos. They told me it was simply because this job required both of us, but it
was clear to see that I was not trusted on my own yet. I was a fine shot, but I
was too young to be a professional yet. Thanos went through the ordeal a year
ago and he’s had that much more time to practice, but that doesn’t make him
better. He may be stronger and faster, but I have been taught to utilize my own
size and abilities. I can be faster and more flexible, and with a gun I can
match even my father. I don’t know Thanos well, and they say you change after
the ordeal. He doesn’t seems like a brother to me. He lives with his mother and
I live with mine. He trained with me for the first six months of my training,
but neither knew enough to accurately gauge the other. My teacher says I spend
too much time thinking about other things. Focus is important, and I will learn
focus. The goal must be completed. I’d always rather face my faults and conquer
them. Denying those causes more damage in the long run, and I have enough self
confidence that it doesn’t hurt me to admit I was wrong. That can only help me;
it means I won’t be wrong about that again. I can stand most insults; I don’t
care what you say about me. But I can’t stand insults to my family. The Zolotos
have their pride. A Salavarki wouldn’t stand an insult, why should I? But some
people cannot understand; my mother family should never have been told of our
heritage. My aunt is horrified when she learned the training I was going
through. She tried to stop me once, showed up to my practice when I was only
nine, and grabbed me from right in front of my teacher of my teacher. Neither
of us could do anything; we didn’t want to hurt her. But if she was horrified
with me, I feel just the same for her. She dragged me in front of my mother and
accused all of us of insanity. “How can you stay with him? All of you agreeing
to this? Its child abuse! And after he cheated on you too.” There was a
diplomatic solution, were are always taught to find diplomacy. Assassination is
the very edge of diplomacy; it is used when nothing else will work, but it’s
still better than a fight. Zolotos are taught to think critically, to analyze
the situation before making a call, and if it is in our hands, to try to talk
first. When we are highbred and sent in secret, what we call a night job that
is when we just kill. But we may face many situations where we might be the
ones to call for an assassination. In those situations we must not be hasty. But
at the time I was nine, and I was furious, so I knocked my aunt out. All it
took was a nice, clean high kick to the temple, and she made a nice satisfying thump
when she fell. My mother was understandably angry and I got my punishment as I deserved.
But I’d like to see anybody insult my family again! I know twenty different ways to kill a person
with three different weapons. I know five ways to incapacitate them without
breaking a bone in their body. I know twenty deadly poisons and where to find
them. You’ll have to look pretty far to find a better sniper. I I may not look like much, shorter than average
and thin because physical exercise isn’t really my thing. I have small features
and light blue eyes. There’s not much I can say for my skin, but at least I got
rid of the pimples. I’m faster than you
are more agile, and more determined. I’m
a Zoloro and I’m proud of it. So watch out.
Ona Fekhtoval
Ona was born in fire. Her life started after the fire that separated her from all the family she had know, she never knew exactly what that place was, an orphanage, a folk haven maybe? She doesn't remember it, all she has are the few stories her mother can tell her, though in dreams sometime she thinks she can feel the heat of the fire. Shala found her abandoned in the park and took her in, brought her back to Russia and raised her as part of the mofia. They might be a cutthroat band of cheater and criminals, but you're safe enough once you know the rules, and they are Ona's family. She would never wish for another. Ona's was singularly lucky, she grew up and learned, fought and ran from the police, but it was all good experience for her, she didn't learn the hard way, with pain and loss, and yet she still has these skills. beyond that, when the found out about her magic, they didn't ostracize her for it, they honored her. They were criminals and crime bosses, they would not let a child unsettle them. She's a commendable shot, and she knows enough about blades and magic to protect herself without a gun. The most important of her skills though, is the one she caries in her mind. Where she grew up children were prized, and she even more so because of her magic. She was raised as the daughter of Lady Fekhtoval, the consort of one of the renowned Godfathers. though the Lord didn't take her as his daughter, he still treated her well. She became a messenger and eventually a diplomat for him, rising in rank. ona can seam mysterious in her own way, especially to people outside of the mafia. How Ona can become so commanding or icy cold and a moments notice, or warm and sweet. She learned how to be hard, and how to stand up for herself, she learned how to corers people and trick them, how to smooze up. And sh learned how to be genuinely kind, when to show mercy. She became quite a little know-it-all confident and smug. She doesn't do it to annoy people, it really wasn't her fault she was so smart. And while her education might have been limited, the things she did learn, she learned very well. Ona has a good mind for politics, and as a child she learned to view it impartially before she started working for one side. She was setting up to be a good leader, when she met Tegan Salavarki. then everything changes, she got the chance of her life time, and she could say no. Ona stayed just long enough to wrap everything up, then she passed of her responsibilities and left to the Academy. It was a new experience for her, living with other children, but it was not bad. If she had been transplanted to a human school she would have found it hopelessly dull, but here there was magic and it was a different society, all the students seamed more mature and independent. She fit it more than she though she could, and she made friend with the other 'first class' students. After nearly a year there, she and two of her friend decided to leave and explore the world. They went looking just to see what they could find and they learned a lot. Ona learned what she can do, being a pure-blood elf, and she learned what that meant. She learned all about the fold work and politics and she found little jobs she could do for the council, practicing diplomatic skills that might have started to go rusty. about two years after they left Ona and Eliyu decided to return to the Academy, to see old friend, and meet new people. It made Ona realize how much she had changes since then, not just things she had learned but things she had lost as well. When she was younger she was quite volatile, change moods and pulling things a 13 year old shouldn't. She still refuses to conform, but she's...calmer in a way now, smoother. She knows who she is more. Before, her outer shell was her appearance, that was the first thing you knew about her, and that what she built her self image on. Now its different. She's less centered around what she looks like, though she doesn't look very different. Ona still has the same creamy skin and pale gold hair. She hasn't shaken her preference for keeping it up, or whatever it is that makes her so protective of it. Its longer now, falling to the small of her back when its down. Her eyes are a clear green color, vibrant in her face, still wide, innocent lair's. Her face and figure have changed a little but you can still tell its Ona, walking tall and proud.