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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
1.04 m
Wingspan
0.97 m
Weight
2.6 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Wasp
Wasp
Spring
Butterfly
Butterfly
White
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Fae
Max Level
STR
5
AGI
31
DEF
10
QCK
50
INT
103
VIT
35
MND
9
Biography
| __._ |
 She is almost swallowed up by the sheer size of her seat within the council chambers. In between a seat made out of broken swords and cracked shields and one of massive gold, she stands out far and fair. Porcelain pale skin on deepest, darkest obsidian, wisps of pale green ghost flames surrounding her head like a crown of lost souls, she herself looks more akin to one of the Fay than anything else. Child-like frame, petite in size, doe eyed and icy beauty, she lives and breathes magic, her aura too large to be contained in a body that seemed to be made to represent innocence. When in truth, she is anything but that. Behind toxic green eyes, a cunning, sharp mind brews endless plots and schemes, while slender hands hold Towers full of people in an iron grip. I have no time to waste for fools, speak quickly. Ironic, truly, that she echoes the words of her father back to those that dare to come close to her. It is not lost on her either, she knows and centuries ago, she would have cared as well. Not nowadays however, not after everything. And especially not after she assumed control over an entire district, after tearing down what was before and reshaping it after her own liking. Do not call me a child, my age is none of your concern, little working boy She remembers, far too often for her liking. The days in which she was still pure and naive, when she was fighting to win the affection of a woman unworthy. Of a woman so airheaded, she now wonders how she even managed to survive for as long as her mother did. No affection for anyone but herself and her reflection in the mirror. In a home so cold, it became a mercy to be given away. Away, to a prestigious institution where all other unwanted, rich, little nobles learnt and studied. Or simply wasted their chances and time. She herself could say with bittersweet pride that she did none of that, she consumed every bit of knowledge there was. A fact not going unnoticed by her father, the force of the family. She was pushed as a consequence, faster, better, more. Hailed as the best, jealousy and pressure met her at every turn. It could have killed a weaker mindset, it could have shattered softer souls. Not her, she soaked it up, the bitterness, the anger, the envy wielded against her and used it to develop a spine of steel. So why was it that the family suddenly wanted her to stop? To pull her out of the academy in which she was soaring so high? Only to marry her off to a man three times her age. For better trading relationships and for politics only, useful but not with her. She refused to become a pawn of her family, the same family that couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. So she broke with those that gave birth to her, that raised her. ”It’s alright, you can trust me, ‘thina.” Foolishly, naive still, she had trusted him. The green eyed boy that had approached her after lessons. That sought out her presence despite her strangeness, despite her too young appearance and too strange in behavior for anyone else. They became, what she thought, were friends. The boy was smart, but nowhere near her level of intelligence. But he had something she was lacking, he had social intelligence, he knew how to play people. And playing her he did. He started small, to ease her into everything. His schemes were what taught her much later to use people. To make them dance like puppets. It all started with a green eyed boy that claimed to only want her friendship. That in reality, wanted so much more. He wanted her life and her heart’s blood, poured all in a groundbreaking discovery of scientific nature. In between moments of weakness, she let him in, let him see. And it cost her far too much, some claim, even her sanity in some manner. ”She stole from me, look, those are all my plans and notes.” She was alone when he claimed her work for himself, her only friend, her only ally turned against her with a smile too wide to pass as charming. She cursed, of course, she fought tooth and nail to redeem this discovery, her life’s work as her own. And in the end, she lost. In the end, society decided against her, the longer, the strange one, because of simply comfortness. It was more cozy to believe the charming one, too tempting to give in to warmth where she could only provide cold truths and hard facts. When she left, her work, everything she had, was kept by the academy. As retribution, they claimed, greed in their eyes and forcing her to start over from scratch. She was furious, she allowed emotion to run wild and to poison her usually impeccable judgement as she turned towards ancient Alchemy, the kind that could create gold from lead and life from nothingness. I am willing to give everything. She made no mistake, she did it to herself willingly, inflicted a curse that would freeze her in time, that would lock away her useless emotions behind a lock of stone. Allowing her heart to be overgrown, to turn from flesh and muscle into unbreakable stone was painful, yet she remained upright, empty faced, biting her tongue to muffle the screams threatening to break free. When all was said and done, when the curse was fulfilled and its aftereffects freezing, ripping her out of time completely, she found herself free, free of emotions and the burden they placed on her. Free from nonsensical decisions thrust upon her by an unwilling heart. And it soured the sweetness when she watched the academy of traitors and backstabbers sink into the ground, each and every soul within those walls consumed alive by her magic. Where was the satisfaction? Where was the feeling of supremacy? Quit your blubbering and your sobbing, nothing you say will touch me. On her own, she survived much better. On her own, she was strong. Until she wasn’t, centuries later. A village in fear, a community razed by the creations she unleashed, what was the cost of innocents, she did not care. If people started to interfere too much with her, she packed up and moved on, no need for help or company. And yet, over the span of a decade, she ran over and over again into him, a brute through and through, yet as she watched her laboratory burn down yet again, it was him that recreated her complicated calculations, wrote them in the dirt with nothing but a twig. He would be good enough, she thought and before he knew it, she hitched along, watched with disbelief how he kept getting conned out his rewards, a mercenary with an extraordinary memory yet he did nothing with it, accepted in stoic silence before moving on. As if nothing could pierce through that thick skull of his. When his laid back attitude started to threaten her own supply of equipment and resources, she finally put her foot down, intervened with vicious words, if he didn’t want that coin promised, she would take it. ”I know of a hidden city, bring me there, I wish to explore this place with my own eyes.” When they arrived, the city was empty, cloaked in eternal night and surrounded by a wall of thorns, they walked past fields upon fields of roses, past empty homes with gaping, dark windows. It looked like a child had created a doll-empire overnight, only to forget about inhabiting it, clean cut and pristine, sparkling with wealth and radiating power that lured her only further in. Side by side with the tom hardy hotshot that would become the General, she watched how a mere dreamer rose to Emperor, to deity, all thanks to the whispers of the people that started to believe their own stories of make-belief. What usage was there for her then when everything was said and done? A lot actually, as it turned out, the Emperor rewarded her handsomely. ”The District is yours, Archmage, I am sure you won't disappoint me.” In all the time, ever since the first council’s gathering, two seats never got replaced. The seat of broken swords and the seat of Obsidian. While she couldn’t care less for the General and his useless war, she herself was here with a mission in mind. She wanted to know, to find out if the Emperor’s divinity could be replicated, could be applied on wish. Dangerous work, work that could cost her much. And yet, watch her throw her children, her subjects, nearly everything into the fire, use their bodies as stepping stones. 
| ___ |
code & assets by archaic #19153
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