Alright, here goes my first draft! [hr] Appearance: [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/534494818479374336/661659459851911208/standing2.png[/img] [hider=with veil][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/534494818479374336/661659462007783463/veil1.png[/img][/hider][/center] Name: Delmina Age: She believes roughly 25 Blood Code: - Grace: Support class with heightened strength to balance out its lack of offensive gifts. offers healing and buff type support for self and/or allies. Gifts: - Fleet of Foot: Increase evasion of a target by one level. - Ichor's Blessing: drain all remaining ichor to heal oneself, if health is full, target an ally to receive the heal. - Restorative Offering: drain one's own health to give to another. Gear: - Heavy Shield - Light Automatic - Prayer Shaw (light) Memories: Delmina could feel herself being carried, barely able to stay conscious. She had never thought that she would be captured again so quickly, after all that time and planning, she had finally escaped the revenants that forced her to go on such dangerous expaditions in search for blood beads, little of which they shared. She could barely remember her past, or how she got here. She hade a vague mental picure of her family, but her past and the cherished memories she once had of her family seemed to be harder to hold on to ever since she had become a revenant herself. She only held on to her first name because she remembered them saying it, and would repeat it to herself constantly. She wasn't even sure exactly how she got the scar on her face, but she didn't remember it being there before becoming this loathsome and ever thirsting creature she saw herself as. Delmina was kept on just enough blood to keep her sanity. enough to keep her from turning so that she could go and find more. However, this balancing act slowly caused what she held dear to slip away, her memories, fading one by one, until there was little more than focusing on survival, quenching her thirst, and keeping her head down. She felt herself roughly tossed down onto the ground, a man grumbling about another escape attempt this week, and not her only one. She could feel now a pool of warm wetness forming around few spots, and the sound of others scrambling to her. It was the other thralls, like her, moving to try to tend to her wounds that were inflicted on her by her captors. A man shouted something, incoherent to Delmina, that made the others back off. But that was the last thing she remembered before blacking out. The man would then let the other thralls run to help her, and maybe within a day or two, she may be sent out again. Other: Has a knack for art and music. She can't remember when she learned it, but she seems to be rather good at both. [hider=What's this?]Can make a bomb-ass jelly doughnut.[/hider]