Rob
Pew Pew Pew
Name: Rosalina Tacita "Rosa" Aetius
Age: 23
Race: Spurii: Laicar, Enlil
Racial Trait: Feather Fall (Enlil)
Vigor: 1500
Latens: 0
Persona: Shy, quiet and untrusting of others, Rosalina’s childhood has made her wary of the outside world and the people that inhabit it. While at one point she might have had a promising future, her fears have made her susceptible to even the slightest hints of abuse. Curling up into a ball and hoping that the bad guys go away might not be one of her skill sets, but years of physical and mental abuse have made her all but a husk of what once could be.
However, underneath all of this sadness lies a dormant sadist, born from the horrors Rosalina has felt time and again both inflicted upon her and onto others. Blind from the physical, but not the metaphysical, the young Spurii has not just an affinity with spells of the living, but also those of the dead, waiting to be unleashed upon the souls that wronged her for so long.
Physical Stature: Standing just over 5'3" in height, Rosa is by no means an imposing figure. Having been born with a frail body from birth, a result of complications caused by her parents being of different races, Rosalina's body isn't quite what you'd expect from your typical crossbreed. She is smaller than most of her enlil kin, and even more so than her laicar kin.
On the back she has sprouted what look like two little wings that serve little more than a feel for aesthetics - another result of her birth by two different races. They are of a dark brown colour, with the left one looking increasingly more crooked than the right one. Both protrude no further than half a hand's worth of length, with the right side looking more so like a wing, than the left side - which has its feathers ruffled all around the left back.
Her body itself is lean, with the vast majority of her trademarked enlil feathers gathering around her hips and growing upwards to just under her elbows along her sides. Her stomach itself is mostly devoid of feathers, except for a 'V'-shaped pattern running from the bottom of her hips to just over her breasts and to just under her shoulders where its joined with the feathers on her side.
Her hair is a startling red, bordering a glossy orange, that's styled in a pixie cut from the front. From the back her hair grows in two spiraling tips that go over her shoulders to the front and fall to well below her waist. As is customary with most enlil, Rosalina has two sets of wing like feathers on the top of her head that cover the vast majority of the sides of her head - along with her ears.
However, perhaps the most distinguishing feature of Rosa is not her mismatched enlil-laicar heritage, but the fact that she is blind. Having had her eyes gouged out at birth, Rosalina wears a blindfold out of sheer habit.
Biography: Born under a red moon, Rosalina’s parents were never involved in a romantic relationship. Her mother, Tryphena, an Enlil, was caught in the unfortunate escapades of a male Laicar. Being the drunk, abusive man he was, he raped Tryphena on that unfortunate night and the result was Rosalina being born.
Her birth wasn’t an easy one. For starters, Tryphena wasn’t aware that she was pregnant until it was far too late and, during the birth itself, it became clear that the soon to be mother was not going to live through the process. Having stood by her sister until the bitter end, Daria became enraged upon seeing the newly born half blood and, in an unforgivable act, broke the left wing of the newborn, stabbed a knife through both of her eyes and tossed her away.
Found by a priestess and her husband, Rosalina was inducted into the Aranea cult of magi. While the first few years of her fragile life were okay, almost loving, once the cult found out her affinity for healing magic, they began to abuse her into a lifetime of servitude. All under the guise of furthering her skills, but it was mostly jealousy over her skill and they hoped that by keeping her docile and weak they could abuse her powers until the end times.
Character Skills
School of Castus (The Immaculate)
School of Occultus (The Hidden)
Discipline of Militis (The Soldier)
Calling of Exanimum (The Necromancer)
Art of Aedificare (The Blacksmith)
Art of Cantatus (The Enchanter)
Sample Chapter:
She was often ridiculed, taken advantage of, abused even. It all started when she was very, very young. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her aunt had tossed her out. She remembered all of this, in such clarity that it was unsettling how her mind hadn’t cracked beyond insanity yet. Daria, as her mother’s sister was called - a name she had somehow found engraved deeply into the crevices of her mind - had hurt her.
She had broken her both mentally and physically. First, what frail Enlil substance she had to her being was broken by the enraged woman. Not both of her pathetic little reminders of her heritage, though. Just the one, the left one. She remembered the feeling well, a little too well. She relived that painful experience every night, just before falling asleep. She had become accustomed to the pain, to the jolt of two vengeful hands taking part of her body into themselves and tearing the fabric of her skin off.
Perhaps the worst part of this experience was the crackling sound her bones had made when Daria snapped the little wing-like entrails in two.
She wanted to shudder at the thought, but couldn’t. It was too much a part of her now for her to really have a strong reaction to it. She still felt the pain, still felt the humiliation she shouldn’t have felt just after birth, but nothing more. Just a constant reminder of how she got to be who she was now, a broken woman and a blight on society as a whole. Perhaps part of her didn’t have it in her to blame her aunt.
After all, even in current enlil society, there weren’t any who had anything close to ‘wings’, but since she was the offspring of a laicar and enlil… it was easy for there to be complications. Her two deformities started just on the end of her back - pretty much there where you would expect wings to grow from - but weren’t anything worth writing writing home about. They barely extended half a hand in length, and the left one especially had a broken look to it.
The feathers themselves had a brown tint to them, just like the two ear-like wings that covered her ears on her head. It didn’t make life much easier for her, though. She was still the offspring of two different races, and that was never something to be proud of - as far as everyone who gave a damn was concerned. They would have you believe that you were a blight on society, an anomaly in an otherwise ‘perfect’ world.
Turning around in her sleep, she sighed softly at the aching pain in her back coming back to haunt her for a few more minutes again.
Her mother had died, and her aunt had not only abandoned her, but also mutilated her. It was a miracle that she even survived for as long as she did, let alone long enough to be rescued - or, it was really just found - by a couple of cultists. Of course, she didn’t know that they were cultists when she was found. How could she? She was barely a newborn. They took her in, though, and perhaps it was just the way the world turned.
Even growing up, she wasn’t used to these emotions called ‘love’, and ‘affection’. They were foreign concepts to her, feelings that really didn’t translate themselves that well in the girl’s mind. She knew only the emotion associated with pain, and as such everything that was done to her - good or bad - was to be associated with said emotion. In time she learned to differentiate between the good and the bad, but the damage had already been done, really.
Feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays coming through her creaky window made her open her eyes slightly for a bit. She really didn’t want to get up, but…
“Oi!” a voice called out to her from the other side of her three by three room, “get yer ass outta bed, half breed. Yer needed for groceries.”
“Alright,” she responded rather sheepishly and without much animation.
She threw her blankets, that were really nothing more than just a set of worn down sheets, off herself and got up from her bed. Looking directly towards her window, and into the great beyond outside, her eyes began to water from the sudden shock of increased light in her vision. Sighing, she made her way over towards a wooden chair that held the vast majority of her ‘saintly’ clothes.
They were little more than rags, but since they were black it wasn’t really that noticeable that they were worn down. It was really just a ‘dress robe’ for her, but at least it was hooded - so she could at the very least try and be a bit discreet about having to go out. They were comfortable enough, but the fact that a spider’s web was engraved on it as a ‘symbol for her highness’ wasn’t exactly flattering.
Then again, her fellow cultists were never really the overly smart types.
“Oi!” the same voice called out from down below this time, causing Rosalina to walk back over to her window and glance outside her window to down below - not that she could really see anything given that she was blind, but it was the thought that counted.
“I thought I told yeh tah get the groceries, half breed!”
“Yes,” Rosa responded rather desolately, and turned around again.
She had learned that just giving quick answers, and not giving them the chance to respond to you, was usually the best way at approaching any kind of conversation with anyone who didn’t really hold you in any particularly high esteem. Closing the door behind her, she descended a rundown set of stairs with relative blind ease and made her way outside with a couple of bags hanging halfheartedly from her hands.
Letting the warmth of the sun get to her just ever so slightly she sighed in slight contempt. If anything, she would at least have a nice day in the sun ahead of her.
Age: 23
Race: Spurii: Laicar, Enlil
Racial Trait: Feather Fall (Enlil)
Vigor: 1500
Latens: 0
Persona: Shy, quiet and untrusting of others, Rosalina’s childhood has made her wary of the outside world and the people that inhabit it. While at one point she might have had a promising future, her fears have made her susceptible to even the slightest hints of abuse. Curling up into a ball and hoping that the bad guys go away might not be one of her skill sets, but years of physical and mental abuse have made her all but a husk of what once could be.
However, underneath all of this sadness lies a dormant sadist, born from the horrors Rosalina has felt time and again both inflicted upon her and onto others. Blind from the physical, but not the metaphysical, the young Spurii has not just an affinity with spells of the living, but also those of the dead, waiting to be unleashed upon the souls that wronged her for so long.
Physical Stature: Standing just over 5'3" in height, Rosa is by no means an imposing figure. Having been born with a frail body from birth, a result of complications caused by her parents being of different races, Rosalina's body isn't quite what you'd expect from your typical crossbreed. She is smaller than most of her enlil kin, and even more so than her laicar kin.
On the back she has sprouted what look like two little wings that serve little more than a feel for aesthetics - another result of her birth by two different races. They are of a dark brown colour, with the left one looking increasingly more crooked than the right one. Both protrude no further than half a hand's worth of length, with the right side looking more so like a wing, than the left side - which has its feathers ruffled all around the left back.
Her body itself is lean, with the vast majority of her trademarked enlil feathers gathering around her hips and growing upwards to just under her elbows along her sides. Her stomach itself is mostly devoid of feathers, except for a 'V'-shaped pattern running from the bottom of her hips to just over her breasts and to just under her shoulders where its joined with the feathers on her side.
Her hair is a startling red, bordering a glossy orange, that's styled in a pixie cut from the front. From the back her hair grows in two spiraling tips that go over her shoulders to the front and fall to well below her waist. As is customary with most enlil, Rosalina has two sets of wing like feathers on the top of her head that cover the vast majority of the sides of her head - along with her ears.
However, perhaps the most distinguishing feature of Rosa is not her mismatched enlil-laicar heritage, but the fact that she is blind. Having had her eyes gouged out at birth, Rosalina wears a blindfold out of sheer habit.
Biography: Born under a red moon, Rosalina’s parents were never involved in a romantic relationship. Her mother, Tryphena, an Enlil, was caught in the unfortunate escapades of a male Laicar. Being the drunk, abusive man he was, he raped Tryphena on that unfortunate night and the result was Rosalina being born.
Her birth wasn’t an easy one. For starters, Tryphena wasn’t aware that she was pregnant until it was far too late and, during the birth itself, it became clear that the soon to be mother was not going to live through the process. Having stood by her sister until the bitter end, Daria became enraged upon seeing the newly born half blood and, in an unforgivable act, broke the left wing of the newborn, stabbed a knife through both of her eyes and tossed her away.
Found by a priestess and her husband, Rosalina was inducted into the Aranea cult of magi. While the first few years of her fragile life were okay, almost loving, once the cult found out her affinity for healing magic, they began to abuse her into a lifetime of servitude. All under the guise of furthering her skills, but it was mostly jealousy over her skill and they hoped that by keeping her docile and weak they could abuse her powers until the end times.
Character Skills
School of Castus (The Immaculate)
School of Occultus (The Hidden)
Discipline of Militis (The Soldier)
Calling of Exanimum (The Necromancer)
Art of Aedificare (The Blacksmith)
Art of Cantatus (The Enchanter)
Sample Chapter:
[1050 Words]
She was often ridiculed, taken advantage of, abused even. It all started when she was very, very young. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her aunt had tossed her out. She remembered all of this, in such clarity that it was unsettling how her mind hadn’t cracked beyond insanity yet. Daria, as her mother’s sister was called - a name she had somehow found engraved deeply into the crevices of her mind - had hurt her.
She had broken her both mentally and physically. First, what frail Enlil substance she had to her being was broken by the enraged woman. Not both of her pathetic little reminders of her heritage, though. Just the one, the left one. She remembered the feeling well, a little too well. She relived that painful experience every night, just before falling asleep. She had become accustomed to the pain, to the jolt of two vengeful hands taking part of her body into themselves and tearing the fabric of her skin off.
Perhaps the worst part of this experience was the crackling sound her bones had made when Daria snapped the little wing-like entrails in two.
She wanted to shudder at the thought, but couldn’t. It was too much a part of her now for her to really have a strong reaction to it. She still felt the pain, still felt the humiliation she shouldn’t have felt just after birth, but nothing more. Just a constant reminder of how she got to be who she was now, a broken woman and a blight on society as a whole. Perhaps part of her didn’t have it in her to blame her aunt.
After all, even in current enlil society, there weren’t any who had anything close to ‘wings’, but since she was the offspring of a laicar and enlil… it was easy for there to be complications. Her two deformities started just on the end of her back - pretty much there where you would expect wings to grow from - but weren’t anything worth writing writing home about. They barely extended half a hand in length, and the left one especially had a broken look to it.
The feathers themselves had a brown tint to them, just like the two ear-like wings that covered her ears on her head. It didn’t make life much easier for her, though. She was still the offspring of two different races, and that was never something to be proud of - as far as everyone who gave a damn was concerned. They would have you believe that you were a blight on society, an anomaly in an otherwise ‘perfect’ world.
Turning around in her sleep, she sighed softly at the aching pain in her back coming back to haunt her for a few more minutes again.
Her mother had died, and her aunt had not only abandoned her, but also mutilated her. It was a miracle that she even survived for as long as she did, let alone long enough to be rescued - or, it was really just found - by a couple of cultists. Of course, she didn’t know that they were cultists when she was found. How could she? She was barely a newborn. They took her in, though, and perhaps it was just the way the world turned.
Even growing up, she wasn’t used to these emotions called ‘love’, and ‘affection’. They were foreign concepts to her, feelings that really didn’t translate themselves that well in the girl’s mind. She knew only the emotion associated with pain, and as such everything that was done to her - good or bad - was to be associated with said emotion. In time she learned to differentiate between the good and the bad, but the damage had already been done, really.
Feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays coming through her creaky window made her open her eyes slightly for a bit. She really didn’t want to get up, but…
“Oi!” a voice called out to her from the other side of her three by three room, “get yer ass outta bed, half breed. Yer needed for groceries.”
“Alright,” she responded rather sheepishly and without much animation.
She threw her blankets, that were really nothing more than just a set of worn down sheets, off herself and got up from her bed. Looking directly towards her window, and into the great beyond outside, her eyes began to water from the sudden shock of increased light in her vision. Sighing, she made her way over towards a wooden chair that held the vast majority of her ‘saintly’ clothes.
They were little more than rags, but since they were black it wasn’t really that noticeable that they were worn down. It was really just a ‘dress robe’ for her, but at least it was hooded - so she could at the very least try and be a bit discreet about having to go out. They were comfortable enough, but the fact that a spider’s web was engraved on it as a ‘symbol for her highness’ wasn’t exactly flattering.
Then again, her fellow cultists were never really the overly smart types.
“Oi!” the same voice called out from down below this time, causing Rosalina to walk back over to her window and glance outside her window to down below - not that she could really see anything given that she was blind, but it was the thought that counted.
“I thought I told yeh tah get the groceries, half breed!”
“Yes,” Rosa responded rather desolately, and turned around again.
She had learned that just giving quick answers, and not giving them the chance to respond to you, was usually the best way at approaching any kind of conversation with anyone who didn’t really hold you in any particularly high esteem. Closing the door behind her, she descended a rundown set of stairs with relative blind ease and made her way outside with a couple of bags hanging halfheartedly from her hands.
Letting the warmth of the sun get to her just ever so slightly she sighed in slight contempt. If anything, she would at least have a nice day in the sun ahead of her.
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