[hider=Zee!] [b]Name:[/b] Zafira (Zee) al-Rashid [b]Age:[/b] Apparently early thirties [b]Gender:[/b] Female [b]Race:[/b] Human (for a given value of human) [b]Sub-Class:[/b] Freelance guardian angel [b]Description:[/b] Approaching average height only in heels, Zafira manages a striking impression all the same. That isn't because of any particular externality, though her dark hair is fashionably tousled and her lean, dangerously feminine build is appealing. Her eyes are the color of coffee and glitter with intelligence; wide enough, it might seem, to take in the whole world. A full, expressive mouth curves against a complexion with the rich olive tones of the Middle East, her lower lip marked by a small scar. Still, all of this is background compared to the way she moves. Every motion carries a flawless, captivating grace, giving the impression that Zee is never more than an instant from moving into some complex, light-footed dance. Her body language doesn't exactly demand the limelight, but she does draw the eye with the way her hands move while she talks, or the tilt of her head, or the toss of her hair away from her neck. There are marks on her skin, the scar on Zee's lip is complimented by another small mark that cuts through her left eyebrow, with both being family to several other larger marks elsewhere on her body. Zafira's wardrobe is, in a word, eclectic, since quite a lot comes from thrift stores, though everything she wears is well-made and fits well. She tends to choose closed-toed shoes (and prefers slightly heeled boots over anything else), and has an impressive collection of band t-shirts. In the rain, Zee is entirely unashamed about her umbrella, which has stained-glass cartoon dragonflies on it, and in cold weather she can be found wrapped in a vintage RAF greatcoat that fits like it was made for her. Both of Zafira's ears are pierced several times, and she tends to decorate her fingers and wrists with jewelry, from plain polished bands to elaborately-engraved bangles and bracelets. Quite a few are painstakingly-constructed magical foci, though that's really only clear to someone tuned into the supernatural. [b]History:[/b] [i]Savannah, Georgia, August 2012[/i] "Don't ask me to do this, Zee." Her voice was soft, her fingers laced together with mine. We looked out over the ocean, and I didn't need to look at Maddy to see the tears. Under other circumstances, tonight was of no particular significance - it wasn't Easter or Halloween or a Solstice - but that's the problem with prophecies. If you get someone mad enough, and powerful enough, to actually bend the universe to their will like that, they tend not to be all that interested in whether or not they're choosing a day with the proper dramatic importance. "Why is it my choice?" I said, but there was a smile in my voice. Maddy looked down, "Because I...I know what this means for you." She sniffled, "This all you've ever known. What you were made for, right? Keeping me safe, making sure I got here, and then walking into the new world together, all of that. And...if I walk away, I don't know what that means for you." I followed her gaze to the thick slab of black glass on the low stone wall in front of us. For decades, it had been nothing more than a curiosity hanging on the wall of her bedroom and tonight, now, it glowed with a redolent, swirling light. Runes and sigils pulsed around the edge of the disk, and in the surging light in the center, I thought I could see faces, or half-glimpsed scenes. "But if you ask me to," Maddy continued, "I won't. I'll pick up the Mantle. Because for two decades you've fought and bled for me, you've stood up to things I can hardly imagine and run off shitty boyfriends and you've held me when I was lonely and homesick. And if I walk away, I know I'm hurting you, because I'm taking away everything you are." She sniffled again, and I saw the light reflected in the tracks of a tear down Maddy's cheek, falling from the eye she still had. I squeezed her hand a little harder, "I haven't always been perfect," I said, a wry expression on my lips. "You look human," Maddy grinned, just a little, "That means you're at least a little bit human. Which means you're a little bit fallible." I pulled my eyes away from the glass slab, and studied Maddy's face. I brought my free hand up, traced the lines the scars made across her skin along her cheekbone, ragged and pale. Maddy didn't flinch, but her green eye looked into mine. The pain and uncertainty there broke my heart. "This prophecy's already cost you so much," I said, tracing a thumb over her cheekbone. I blew out a sigh, "I expect I should say something like 'but that's the cost of destiny.'" Another sad grin, "But it's not just me - you've been paying the price for my destiny, Zee. And I have. And Mom and Dad have, and..." She turned her head away, and I dropped my hand. Maddy looked out over the ocean, carefully not keeping the disk in her view. "And then what?" She wiped her eye, "You all keep paying forever, because [i]I[/i] make a choice? [i]I[/i] choose to make you pay that price? What kind of person does that make me? And don't tell me what the prophecy says, I know that by now." "I'm tired of monsters," she said, "I'm tired of things coming out of my dreams or the woodwork or out of the shadows. I want to go out and catch fireflies without wondering what's going to charge from the darkness. I want Mom to stop praying every day, and I want to get married and have a daughter and tell her that the world's fucked up, but that we can change it." "By walking away from your chance to do just that?" I asked. Maddy sighed, and shook her head. "It's not the right way, Zee. It costs too much. It's...wrong." I hesitated, choosing my words with care, "There are...people who would disagree." "Yeah, well. I didn't invite any of them tonight. I brought you, Zee." She turned to look at me, and I saw her eye was dry. "It hasn't been much of a life, all these years, knowing what I am. But at least I've had one. You, though, you've had a [i]purpose[/i], and that meant you've always been behind me, bound by my [i]destiny[/i]. And I want you to have more than that, Zee. I want you to have a life, I want you to have something more than a sword and bad sleep and wariness and pain on my behalf." He voice softened, "I want your freedom. But I also know that freedom is terrifying. You [i]have[/i] the answers of your life, and for that matter so do I, I just hate them." The ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, "I want your freedom. But I won't force that pain on you." She swallowed, "I...love you, Zee. You're important to me. That's why if you ask me to take up the Mantle, if you ask me to protect everything that's driven you for the last twenty years, I'll do it. If you ask me." I was struck dumb. She could lead the world, if she wanted to. I don't mean with the Mantle, though that was what it had been made for. I don't know if she realized it, but she was one of the people that you listen to, whose will bends the universe for them, just a little. She spoke, and for the first time in my life, I felt...doubt; something other than the perfect assurance that had always rung in my mind like a clear and crystal bell. I looked down at the glass disk again, one hand reaching out almost involuntarily toward its smooth, pulsing surface, but there was nothing for me there. I saw no visions of the future, felt no stirring of grand ambition. It didn't care about me; I wasn't [i]important[/i]. That realization came crashing down on me in a wave, and I blinked. I looked back to Maddy, and struggled for what to say. I took in a breath, blew it out, and I couldn't meet her eye. She was the product of the prophecy, and for that matter, so was I. She was born under the right star, at just the right time, and the power of the prophecy wrapped around her - exactly the way a generation of people had expected. At the same instant, I stepped into the world, fully-formed and whole, ready to stand at her side. Maddy came into the world in a hospital, into a bright and unfamiliar world filled with impossible expectation. I remember stepping out of a shadow in an alley, the first sound in my ears that of a paper wrapper crunching under my boot. From that first instant, I knew that Madison was capital-I Important, because everything that made me said so. That fact had been my foundation, my breath and my blood. For the last two decades I had been her guardian, and I had known exactly what I was meant to do. That certainty had a delirious perfection to it, a simplicity that narrowed my life to a path where I knew every step I would take. For twenty years, I had help raise Maddy, I had defended her, I had stood in the path of everything that would harm her, because that's what the prophecy said I would do. Because I was the guardian, and Maddy was Important. An ocean of ink had been spilled about Maddy; it swirled through her life, wrapped her in words and expectations. Mystics, maniacs, family - they had all thought she was [i]Important[/i], too. She, in fact, was the only thing to be so. Everyone else was...extra, ancillary, unnecessary. Maddy was the one who mattered, because of course she did. Her parents weren't important, her teachers weren't important. [i]I[/i] wasn't important. And of course, I had known that was true. I stepped in the path of some shrieking horror's claws because if I was hurt, it meant Maddy wasn't. I followed her family from one city to another, never really settled, because [i]of course[/i] I did. I wasn't important to the prophecy. But I [i]was[/i] important to Maddy. And that changed everything. With an effort, I tore my eyes away from the disk of black glass, and I looked at my ward. I saw the ragged scar that tore down the left side of her face, a permanent marker of the time I'd failed. I saw her fear, and her courage, and her love - and I saw a young woman who deserved more than shackles. "Do you want pizza?" I asked. "What?" Maddy said, "Zee-" I gripped her hand, "Listen to me, all right? Gino's will still be open for another half an hour, and I'm starving. It'll take us fifteen minutes to drive there, but I think they'll forgive us. Sam's a friend." Maddy looked confused, "Wait, did you hear-" "I heard you, Maddy. And I'm flattered, and humbled and all of that." I waved my free hand dismissively, "But there's not a question here. You want me to make the choice?" I unlaced my hands from hers and took a few steps away. I found what I was looking for without much effort, retrieved it, and took stepped back toward Maddy. "Here you go," I said, and I handed her a heavy, jagged stone the size of a big fist. She took it in her hands, and I stood back. "You're really sure?" I asked. Maddy looked at me, then down at the glass disk, then back. She nodded, took a step forward, raised the stone over her head, her body arcing in one of human form's most primitive and simple displays of power. A part of me thought time would slow down or stop, or that something would happen - that a meteor would come streaking out of the atmosphere and knock the stone away - but there was nothing like that. Maddy shifted her weight and her arm came down, cutting through the air like a falling mountain. When the glass broke, the sound wasn't the tinkle of a window pane or the pop of a bottle. It sounded heavier somehow, more muted. Each fragment fell, still filled with the strange whirling light, each still winking with a rune or some piece of a language I didn't understand. After a moment, the light seemed to run out of the shards, each flicker and mote rising into a small, tight vortex. "Maddy," I said, "We might want to stand b-" The lights whirled together then burst, silently, in an expanding ring of multicolored fire. It passed through Maddy and I without any obvious effect, and though I don't know what I expected, neither of us doubled over or burst into flame ourselves. Electric street lights flickered and buzzed when the ring passed, but returned to their normal sodium glow a moment later. After a few dozen yards, the whole thing dissolved, whirling away into motes of glowing glitter. "Is that it?" Maddy asked. We both took a step forward, looking at the shattered artifact. "I think so," I said, and nudged a fragment with the tip of my boot. It clinked like obsidian, but did nothing else. Maddy leaned down and picked up another shard, "What happens now?" I took a deep, long breath, felt the air swirl in my lungs. It felt clean and new. "You talked a lot about certainty, about purpose," I said, "You [i]were[/i] the Chosen One. I [i]was[/i] your guardian angel. But you know what I'm still certain of?" I grinned. "You still want pizza?" Maddy said, standing. She wrapped the fragment in a handkerchief and tucked it into a pocket. "I still want pizza," I said, and grinned. We turned away from the ocean and started walking back the way we'd come, the sound of the water at our backs. I felt...strange, and light, like something had changed but I wasn't entirely sure what. Maybe it was just low blood sugar. But next to me, Maddy stood straight, her shoulders back, and with every step she seemed to unwrap from herself, her arms swinging free at her sides. The city lights sparkled in her eye like reflected stars, and I saw a smile pull at her lips. We were quiet for the long walk back to the truck, stepping up into our seats with easy comfort. I reached forward, turned the key in the ignition, and the cab jerked the way it always did, the way that I kept meaning to have checked. I turned the lights on, put the transmission into drive, and then paused. "You know," I said, "I've always wanted to go to France." [b]Abilities/Skills:[/b] - You're A Wizard, Zee: Zafira has an intimate connection with the currents and movements of magic through the worlds, a result of being conjured from raw magic by Maddy's prophetic destiny. Her command over that power extends largely into the realms of channeling power for defensive magic (shields and wards) along with lightning-flavored evocations. With time and effort, she's also capable of making various enchanted gewgaws, but that process is very time and labor intensive. Though she is considerably skilled in the Art, the more power Zee channels into any particular working, the more physically and mentally taxing it is on her. She is entirely capable of blacking out from this exertion. - Old-Fashioned Girl: A guardian angel (note the lack of capitals) needs to have a sword, and Zee is no different. But because a weapon you don't know how to use belongs to someone else, she is also a competent close-quarters fighter. She isn't spectacular or effortless, and a dedicated student (especially creatures that have been fencing for several human lifetimes) will outclass her, but she acquits herself well, with or without her weapon. Zee in addition is very well aware of how to maintain and repair the weapon, even to the point of making a new one if necessary. - Hard to Kill: She isn't stronger than a run of the mill human, and she isn't faster, but Zee is absolutely tougher than it seems like she ought to be. Not that she'll be shrugging off broken bones and bullet wounds, but the machinery of her body is harder to damage than even an exceptional human. She also heals from injuries more quickly, and more completely, than her neighbors, but that's cold comfort when she's still waiting for a broken arm to knit back together. - I Know Him: The supernatural world is entirely within the sphere of what Zee considers normal. She's never [i]not[/i] known there were vampires and angels, or that Bedazzled wasn't an accurate depiction of the denizens of Hell. Her knowledge is not encyclopedic, but it is extensive. - Training Day: Zee is in remarkable physical condition - and she works for it, too. - Someone to Watch Over Me: Zee still is a guardian angel, and has found she can attune that to other people at will. That connection becomes more significant with time, but gives her a subconscious awareness of an increasing number of things about the person's life. That includes things like knowing whether someone (or something) wants to hurt them, where they might have left their keys, or whether the family curse is real. She also can take no action to harm that person, and is compelled to actively defend them if they are in genuine danger. Over a long enough span of time (years), fate will [i]ensure[/i] she's in a position to help. This connection is voluntary, and Zee can terminate it when she wants to (for example, at the end of an engagement with a client). - Friends in Low Places: Zee has contacts throughout the supernatural districts of Loom, ranging from passing acquaintances among the Angels to information brokers in the Goblin Market. Some owe her favors. One wants to kill her. - No Crossroads Involved: One of a very few hobbies Zee has had for most of her life, Zee plays the guitar, and she does it quite well. Most of her repertoire is bluegrass, blues, and old American Country music, though she's always learning something new. She sings too, and very well indeed, and is a regular fixture at coffee shops and restaurants around Loom. [b]Notable Belongings:[/b] - 221B Rue Boulanger: Zee has a small, cramped, old office on street level in a part of town that's not exactly notorious, but doesn't have the best reputation all the same. There are two signs on the door, one of which is much sillier than the other. Both indicate that if you were looking for someone to help you with the occult, this might be a place to go. - Fashion Swordward: Swords aren't exactly common fashion in the 21st century, and Zee usually doesn't actually carry hers. Instead, she summons it to her hand with a thought - provided she hasn't been caught in a magic circle, is under the effect of a drug or alcohol, or the ring she's made for this specific purpose isn't sitting on her dresser. The sword itself is similar to a European hand-and-a-half sword with a wire-wrapped hilt, balanced perfectly for her size and build. The entire weapon is adorned with bright silver design work, which is [i]mostly[/i] decorative. It can be taken by others (Zee can only dismiss it if she's holding it), destroyed, and damaged, and is not normally a holy weapon. - Foci: Some of Zee's jewelry are also potent foci for the kind of magic she's most proficient at. This includes charms to make shields easier to project, a complicated bracelet on her right wrist and palm for guiding lightning bolts from her hands, in addition to a pair of earrings that help not leave her concussed and deaf from the thunderclap. She can still do magic without them, but it's much, much more taxing. These objects were specially created by her over a period of weeks or months, and she does not have spares. - Home Sweet Home: Zee has an apartment in the Residential part of the city. It's small but cozy, with a fireplace. She genuinely loves the place, and has made it a home in every way she knows how. That can be important for creatures with a sensitivity to thresholds... - Independent Transportation: While she spent most of her life driving trucks on the wide-open streets of the United States, that really isn't an option in an old European city. Zee has long since taken to the motorcycle life, and owns an older but impeccably well-maintained motorcycle, which she uses for almost all of her transportation needs that aren't met by a bus or train. - Sentimental Value: Zee wears a pendant around her neck on a thin chain, carved from the black glass that contained the Mantle. The pendant itself is carved in the shape of a single stylized angel's wing. [/hider]