[hider=WIP][center][u][h1]Huntsman Sheet[/h1][/u]
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[indent][indent][indent]To understand the value of bravery, you need to pay the price for cowardice. 

Wisteria grew up being told she didn’t belong, being hated for reasons everyone else seemed to understand but her. Threats to her and her family came often and in great number, and she was too afraid then to stand up to it. 

Not anymore. 

Wisteria is a girl of few words, but she tries to make those words kind. While patient almost to a fault, and generally averse towards conflict, she no longer shies away from it. Obstacles, problems, enemies—if they cannot be avoided then they are to be met head-on with grace and finesse, but [i]never[/i] run from. Doing so sometimes means putting aside things like fear, and compromising sense for integrity. Wisteria has no qualms about putting herself in danger to see something done, or—especially—to see someone protected. There is an undeniable air of self-destructiveness about her, a silent, willful disregard for her own well-being, both physically and emotionally. She learned late the importance of altruism in a place like Vacuo, and later still that there is no such thing as altruism without self-loathing.
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[indent][indent][indent]Wisteria walks a paradoxically obscure and yet undeniably loud line between ethereality and the brand of garishness rivaled only by carnivals and tie-dye shirts. Her clothes scream with colors that often clash or are simply unpleasing to look at, but they are undeniably well-made. People with an eye for fashion would spot the calls toward high-end Mistral styles, but even those without could still peg the pieces as obnoxiously flashy and overly elaborate, which are just as characteristic, to be fair. 

Sashes and hoops, sleeves with buttons and shoulder-cloaks and now and then a ribbon or two dangling from the cuffs and hips. One could justifiably call her outfits impractical, but in action Wisteria moves unimpeded, skirting and dancing across the battlefield as the various colors dim and flare and seem to flow into each other heedless of boundary. 

In contrast, the girl keeps an almost demure, unassuming demeanor. Neither short nor tall, with dim-colored eyes and a propensity for blank expressions, Wisteria is, mildly put, not what is advertised on the tin.  
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[b][color=C369E2]Name[/color][/b]
[indent]Wisteria Ferrox[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]Aliases / Nicknames[/color][/b]
[indent]Wisty[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]G[/color][/b]e[b][color=C369E2]nder[/color][/b]
[indent]Female[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]Age[/color][/b]
[indent]16[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]Kingdom of Origin[/color][/b]
[indent]Vacuo[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]Rac[/color][/b]e
[indent]Human[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]History[/color][/b]
[indent]Wisteria’s mother initially came to Sanus to liaise between a sect of the Mistral aristocracy and a small yet promising dust mine in Vacuo. Negotiations were short, unsuccessful, and ended with her marrying the mine’s young owner, leaving her own home, as they say, in the dust. 

The two lived together happily, though they faced their fair share of challenges. Between Vacuo’s general lawlessness and distaste for the frivolities of Mistral, the only thing that kept the Ferrox family alive and in business was the fact that the dust flowed steadily, and also that nobody seemed to be able to kill the bastards. Plenty tried, but most learned quick and deathly that missus Ferrox was more than just a pretty, foreign flower.

Eventually they brought two children into the world. First a boy, Pasque, and two years later a girl, Wisteria, both named after the contents of the garden their mother had left behind in Mistral. Wisteria spent her youth in the protective shadows of her mother and Pasque, whose dreams of becoming a huntsman were shelved in favor of guarding his family. While their mother taught Pasque how to fight, she taught Wisteria the finer arts of the Mistral elite. She learned how to paint, how to dance, how to appear composed even when she was not. She was given a thorough if informal education, and when her semblance blossomed, Wisteria quickly turned it into a tool for artistic expression. 

However, while she was blind to Vacuo’s hostilities, Vacuo was not blind to her. The people saw in the Ferrox children a burgeoning dynasty of opulence, and feared that the mine might one day direct its dust to one of the nations that had tried and failed to bleed them dry before. Bandits came more frequently, more fiercely, and though none managed to get past Pasque’s spear, it was clear that the attacks would not stop as long as Mistral had its neatly-trimmed nails dug into Vacuan soil.

One day, their mother vanished. 

Their father was crestfallen, Pasque remained steadfast but it was obvious he was hurt as well. Wisteria withered. Fear became her closest companion; between the devastation of abandonment, the new night-terrors, and the outright refusal to even walk beyond the walls of their home, people might very well have assumed that the Ferrox daughter was gone as well. Pasque tried to comfort her, and to his credit, the safest she ever felt was beside him, but it wasn’t enough. She was utterly ruled by her fear. The bandits and marauders slowed for a time, but soon the old sentiments returned. Their family was not forgiven. The attacks resumed.

Troubles did not end there. While sorrows were never scarce in Vacuo, the fact that most people lived their lives on the move meant Grimm had trouble pinning them down. The Ferrox posed no such problem; theirs was a thoroughly planted home now utterly rife with gloom. Eventually it was that when the bandits ebbed, the Grimm would flow, and Pasque, while well-versed in warding off man and faunus, scrambled to adapt to the more monstrous assailants. 

One night he was not fast enough. The mines were overrun, the house sieged by Grimm. Pasque fought into the dawn, but was overwhelmed. Their father died protecting him. Just when it seemed like all was lost however, the cavalry arrived. Men and women with weapons bared, and even semblances flaring, drove the Grimm away from the mines and the manor. 

Wisteria crawled out from her hiding place shaken and wide-eyed, and saw through the window her brother struggling to his feet, bloody but alive. Then one of their saviors stabbed him through the chest. They set about sacking the home and seizing control of the mine, and Wisteria, spurred out of her shock by fear and shame, took her mother’s spear and fled. 

The next anyone would see of her would be at Oscuro’s doorstep, and shortly after, the doors of Shade Academy.

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[b][color=C369E2]Se[/color][/b]mb[b][color=C369E2]lance[/color][/b]
[indent]Wisteria’s semblance, [color=gray]Achromatopsia[/color], allows her to pull colors from objects and areas, which can be applied to other things, or molded into various constructs, controlled telekinetically. Higher quantities of constructs naturally require more color and effort to create, but large amounts of color can also be channeled to make fewer but stronger and more resilient ones.

When constructs are destroyed or dismissed, unless applied to something else, the color returns to its source. As well, color taken from living things, while generally more potent, can only be held temporarily, and cannot be applied to other objects when dismissed. With focus, Wisteria can alter taken colors, but this change reverts when the color returns to its source.[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]Weap[/color][/b]o[b][color=C369E2]n & Fi[/color][/b]ght[b][color=C369E2]ing Style[/color][/b]
[indent]Wisteria’s wields her family’s heirloom, a modified glaive called [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a5/f1/8e/a5f18effbca12b0fd13c9123eef79856.jpg]Prism Ribbon[/url]. While certainly more ornamental among the weapons found in Vacuo, Wisteria has modified it over the course of her time at Oscuro. With a pearlescent blade, and an internal chamber for utilizing dust, Prism Ribbon has become much more than decoration.

In practice, Wisteria’s combat style is graceful, bordering on dancelike and bursting with flourish. She will often use her semblance to extend the glaive’s edge, effectively turning it into a scythe with a warped, flowing blade of weaponized color.[/indent]
[b][color=C369E2]Strengths & [/color][/b][i]Weak[/i][b][color=C369E2]nesses[/color][/b]
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[hider=Strengths]
[list][*]Well-educated, analytical, able to strategize quickly and effectively. 
[*]Quick, nimble, with a dancer’s grace that lends itself to her melee combat-style.
[*]Dauntless, able to suppress fears and anxieties in order to focus on the problems at hand.
[*]Very experienced with her semblance, able to utilize it in a variety of ways in combat.
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[hider=Weaknesses]
[list][*]Mental stability hinges entirely on a false persona. 
[*]Little to no experience fighting Grimm.
[*]Reliant upon agility and precision, little aptitude for strength.
[*]Only a rudimentary understanding of aura. 
[*]Stubborn, self-destructive, scant regard for personal safety.[/list]
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Fatal[b][color=C369E2] Flaw[/color][/b]
[indent]Wisteria’s entire being is founded upon the denial of the fact that she is a coward at heart. She’s spent years building a wall around that inner, pathetic self that was too weak to save her brother, and too afraid to die with him. It’s a strong wall, but it has cracks, and should it crumble there may not be anything left of her to salvage from the rubble.[/indent]
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