Full Name: Elayra (ee-LAY-ruh) Alane Heart

Age: 16

Heritage: The daughter of the late White Queen, Alyce Heart, named after another ancestor somewhere down the line. Her father died a couple months before she was born, making him one of the firsts murdered by the Red Sorceress before anyone realized war was at hand.

Appearance: Elayra stands at about 5’6”, is of a small build, and has a light skin tone. She has gray eyes, her mother’s eyes, that often have a haunted look in them, and is often told by those few who remember the White Queen that she looks like her mother. She wears her platinum hair with its loose curls down most of the time, and her fingernails are almost always chewed short.

Distinguishing Marks: She has many scars on her body from both training and battle with the creatures of Wonderland. From blade wounds and burn marks from spells, to claw and bite marks, the scars are all in various stages of healing, some now only faint silvery lines. Of easiest notice is the still healing scar stretching vertically over her left eye from just above her eyebrow down to her cheek the length of her nose. She’s fairly proud of this one, having gained it just before killing one of the Red Sorceress’ scouts.

Clothes Wear: Though it is the standard of the common female in the land to wear a dress, Elayra loathes the things and refuses to wear one unless absolutely necessary. She prefers a pair of trousers and a form-fitting top in colors that help her blend in with her surroundings. She wears tall leather boots with a slight heel, and a pair of matching bracers. She also has a belt that holds her trusty sword and favored dagger, as well as a pouch in which she keeps what little amount of the stones that are the land’s currency she has managed to collect, along with a few other small odds and ends. However, she does have a dress in her wardrobe for those rare occasions when it would help her to better fit in with the world around her.

Abilities: Magic-wise, she is capable of only a few simple spells, since she has spent honing her ability to access the magic that flows through the world. On the other hand, she has been learning how to fight since she was capable of holding a weapon. She is rather extraordinary at wielding polearms, hand-to-hand combat, shooting a bow, and various types of swords. However, she tends to favor the sword, and is fairly quick on her feet.

Weapons: Ever since Drust deemed her worthy and able enough to have her own, good weapons, she's used two particular weapons: a saber, and a kris dagger. Both of these, according to Drust, were gifts from her mother. While the White Queen never used the sword, the dagger itself was once a favored side weapon by her mother. Sword: It resembles a long, double-edged saber, the blade curving slightly. The blade has a blue hue to it, and the rather plane hilt is a dull silver color with a black leather-wrapped handle. Kris Dagger: Essentially the same in appearance as her sword, only with a wavy blade. Bow and Arrows: A simple recurve bow made of a strong, sturdy wood. She has added random small carvings onto it. The arrows are of a matching wood with brilliant blue fletching that changes shades and even adds a bit of purple and green in different lighting. She often has the bow slung over her back, and the quiver of arrows hanging at her hip. Unless, of course, she feels she has no eminent need for them, in which case she stores them away in her pack. The quiver is enchanted to keep the arrows from falling out, no matter how violently shaken, but allows for its owner to easily pull them out. Unlike her bladed weapons, this was "borrowed" from one of the Forsaken.
Weapon Update: As of page 16 in IC, she no longer has her kris dagger. Instead, courtesy of unforeseen events, she's using one of her guardian's, Drust's, spare stiletto daggers. It's a rather simple affair. The silvery metal forms a spiral at the the hilt, topped by an elegant round pummel. Its needle-pointed, triangular blade’s length is around nine inches. Unlike your common Earth stilettos, each of the three thin sides are forged and sharpened in a way that lets it be used for cutting and slashing, not just thrusting.

Personality: Having grown up in the perilous world of Wonderland, Elayra tends to be suspicious of everyone and everything, since you can’t even trust what you see in the world anymore. She is careful and watchful, and always on the move, always secretly hoping to encounter one of the Red Queen’s followers so she could bring about their demise. When around people she knows, or in a situation where emotions are heightened or heated, she is not afraid to speak her mind, often not thinking through her words before they leave her tongue, which has often ended poorly and resulted in a couple of her scars. She is not one to hesitate to defend what she believes is right, or to fight for those hurting from the Sorceress’ rule. She is the brutal, fearless sort, and even when she does feel fear, sorrow, or any other ‘weak’ feelings, she refuses to show it, either her bitter, angry side emerging with more potency, or putting on a cocky, self-assured grin and spouting off a few smart comments. Though she often fantasizes about what Wonderland was like before the curse, the weight of reality is always a crushing one, and she fears to dwell on the dreams for long for fear the world may never be restored. After all, if the fate of the world really would rest on the shoulders of her and someone she knew nothing about, she dares not hope for the best. Life had taught her all too well that hope did little besides bring about painful disappointment.

Major Positive Traits: Active. Dedicated. Adaptable. Curious. Brave. Alert. Compassionate toward those suffering from the Red Queen’s rule. Fierce.

Major Negative Traits: Stubborn. A bit sadistic when it comes to her enemies. Bitter. Overly serious. Untrusting. Harsh. Hot-tempered.

Weaknesses: She often acts too fast and without thinking things completely through, letting her emotions get the best of her. Though it often works for her, she can be too fierce, often getting carried away and taking it from a heartfelt intensity to an almost scary ferocity.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Chews on her fingernails. Twirls or chews a strand of hair when thinking. Tags: “I’m nobody.” “It’s a living nightmare.” She always speaks with a serious, and authoritative tone.

Fears: Extremely small spaces, and otherwise being locked up. Complete darkness—or, rather, not being capable of seeing what might be lurking in it. Failing to dethrone the Red Sorceress. Of facing the Red Sorceress. Of not being capable of living up to the shadow cast by her mother.

Other: Cherished Object: A necklace the White Knight gave to her. It is a family heirloom in the shape of the royal coat-of-arms that the queen ordered him to give Elayra once she turned thirteen. About an inch large, a red stone creates a heart with a curved bottom and a point that curls up into a spiral. Atop it is a small blue rose in bloom. Two swords of tarnished silver weave through part of the heart on either side to create an X, the tiny metal pieces visible through the red stone. The pendant hangs by the swords from a chain that is shockingly sturdy, and she always keeps it hidden beneath her shirt to prevent it from possibly giving her identity away. It’s said to glow when the thing the wearer seeks is near, and has proven that rumor to be truth.

Short Bio: Elayra remembers little, if anything, of how life was before the Sorceress’ curse ravaged the land. She has been told the story of how they escaped: the White Knight took the two children through a hidden passage in the palace, and they made their way over the land to Harrow Hollow Hill, where it is said portals to many worlds reside. With the opening of a couple of them eminent, they jumped on the opportunity. With the portal entrance too small for the three to fit through together, the boy went first. Before the other two could follow, they were ambushed by a few of the Sorceress’ creatures and forced to flee or be killed.
When the queen’s curse took effect, it did no harm to Elayra, but it changed the White Knight. Though he remained mostly in control of himself, never forgot the task he had been charged with, the kindness and genteelness that once ruled him was all but abolished. In its place was an almost crazed brutality kept at bay by only the little of who he once was that remained.
So, Elayra grew up knowing only the nightmarish side of Wonderland and with a surrogate parent who was firm and harsh, always unrelenting in his training. He taught her how to wield various types of weapons, as well as educated her about everything he could to aid her in succeeding in bringing down the Red “Queen.” Though he showed a restraint that all others affected by the curse lacked, his methods were just shy of barbaric on the field. However, the Knight did have moments where his true self shone through, showing a kindness befitting a doting father. But, on the other side of the coin, there were times when the curse took almost full control, sending him into a terrifying rage.
The two occasionally stayed with a few other survivors and supporters of the White Queen, all living underground and hoping they would not be found. She kept who she was a secret, by order of the Knight, and for knowing that if anyone knew who she was, it could very well mean her death.
She learned quickly, as one must when living in a world where even the grass could try to tear you apart, and your mentor, when more consumed by the curse, lived by the philosophy that “pain is the greatest teacher.” Even so, the Knight was the only family she had, and she cherished every moment when the curse was subdued long enough for her to see a small glimpse into the gentle, caring people Wonderland was once filled with.
At long last the Knight, who watched the skies diligently, told her it was finally nearly time for the portal to Earth to open and for her to seek out the Hatter’s son. The two set out on the journey once more to Harrow Hallow Hill in the dismal hope that she would succeed and be capable of bringing him home to Wonderland and putting an end to the evil Red Queen’s reign, and the rule would once more belong to the Heart family.

A.K.A. the White Knight. Like all the White (and Black) Knights of the old Heart Palace, he has his own name.

Appearance: Like most of the Knights, he is quite tall, standing at nearly 6’10. His skin, including his lips, are alabaster white (thanks to effects of the curse, shifting from a solid white), making him look almost as if he was made of stone. Only a series of onyx lines branching out from the corners of his eyes shows color on his flesh.
His eyes themselves are a decent way to tell when the Curse is fighting against him, and winning. The Curse turned his irises red, veins of black streaking outward through them and over heir whites to meet up with those that streak from the outside corners of his eyes. But normally, this effects only his irises. When the Curse pushes against his control and resolve, that black-webbed red will consume the solid black of his pupils. The smaller his pupils, the more in control the Curse is.
He looks to be in his mid twenties, but Knights age differently, so it’s difficult to tell his true age. He has sharp features, and his irises are a glazed dark red webbed with black—a sign of the effects of the Curse. His hair, which he keeps short and usually a bit messy, is a contrasting blackish-brown.

Race: The Knights were never really given an official race name. So, he is simply one of the White Knights.

Actual Age: 35. Or 52, depending on how you look at it.

Appeared/Physical Age: Roughly 26. The Knights age significantly slower than most humans, physically aging approximately one year to every four that passes. HOWEVER, they don't start out as infants. When first born by magic, Drust was, technically speaking, created to be about seventeen. So, in a way, he's 52. But not.

Weapons: A katana. It’s blade is extra-long, tailored to better suit his height. It’s blade is kept sharper than most would think possible, and its handle is wrapped in white leather. The crossguard, made of a black metal, sports a pattern of ornate white hearts. It is a relic from when he still served the White Queen. When he is mostly in his right mind, you will never find him without it in quick reach. You'd pretty much have to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

Other/Notes: Despite the years and having the need to dispose of the heftier pieces of it, of his old armor, he still has his gauntlets. The metal a bit discolored from improper care, but he still has them.

A Snippet of History: While Drust was created in the same way as all the rest of his brothers (and sisters) in arms, he was always a tad bit different. While he loved training his body, just like the rest of his ilk, when all the other White and Black Knights would finish their training for the day and take the opportunity to relax, he was training his mind. He had a desire for knowledge that exceeded all his fellows. He could never get enough, delving into one book or scroll after the other on various forms of sciences and magics. Though he was not the best at magic, he learned enough of it for his knowledge to impress even Hatter.
This difference set him apart from the others. Hatter took a notice to him, and began teaching Drust what he knew. Soon, by Hatter's suggestion, Drust became the White Queen's personal guard. Wherever she went, he was likely close behind.
When the Red Sorceress attacked, he was there, fighting alongside the White Queen and Hatter. At least, until he was entrusted with the most important task of his life: to protect and train the young Ghent and Elayra. The children of two of the most powerful inhabitants of the world at the time. To secure Wonderland's future.

Full Name: Nikita Sinra Norman

Nickname(s): Kita

Age: 21

Race: Human

General Appearance: Height: Average height at 5”4’ Weight: 150lbs—she has a fair amount of hidden muscle mass. Build: She's on the petite side. Hair: Pale brown like her father’s, she keeps it in a long-ish, spiky pixie cut, ensuring it’s short enough to not be a huge bother… but, regrettably, short enough to get her some flak about it being a “man’s hair length.” Eyes: She inherited her mother’s eyes. They’re a dark--and nearly ethereally--vivid green with silvery flecks. Anything Else: She's rather tan from working outdoors, and, though it doesn’t show unless she’s using her muscles, she’s quite strong from doing a lot of fieldwork.

Distinguishing Marks: Her hands are calloused. She has her fair share of scars from random mishaps, including one just beneath her left jaw joint that she swears itches in prediction of rain.

Clothes Wear: Never anything fancy, though she’s partial to wearing pants. You try chopping wood or hunting in a dress.

Prized Possession(s): A ring she inherited from her mother. Its silver band is inlayed with small purple stones Nikita believes are amethysts. Her mother always claimed that it was magic, though, if it is, Nikita has never been capable of making it do anything besides stay on her finger. So she’s pretty sure that that was just a fable. If it isn’t on her finger, then it’s on a chain around her neck.

Occupation: Whatever odd jobs she can get around town with having the reputation of being ‘cursed.’

Weapon(s): Depends on the situation. She has quite a few sharp pointy things around their cottage she could use, as well as a bow and arrows for hunting. And she'd be happy to use any of them in self-defense if she needed to.

Personality: She’s usually the determined sort, who has come to not take “no” for an answer. She’d always been a wild whirlwind, though that temperament has been somewhat suppressed over the years. While she tries to be positive, a weight lingers on her shoulders, and pulls at the edges of her every smile. She’s the caring sort, and, since she herself has been through so much, hates seeing others suffering.

Quirks: She often fidgets with her ring, and can frequently be heard singing or humming one of the many folk songs she learned growing up, some in languages from around the world that she doesn’t understand, but still knows the lyrics to… though, she’s sure she mangles pronunciation. And, one might add, she’s pretty good at singing. Her skills have even earned her a few coins.

Family: Parents (Deceased): Amira and Nicodemus III. Stepmother (Deceased): Marian. Siblings: Nicodemus IV. But he only ever goes by Nico. Nikita’s younger brother at age 10.

A Not So Short Bio: The people of her town call her family cursed—and she’s pretty sure they’re right.
When she was a child, she and her parents were nomads, moving wherever the wind took them, meeting new people with each turn of their head and making friends as naturally as breathing. Her house was a small, but cozy caravan pulled by two horses. Sometimes, they even traveled with others, though they never stayed together for long.
But then, when Nikita was eight, the unthinkable happened. They’d stumbled on a “small gem of a town,” as her mother put it. Known to the locals as Baxtree, it was nestled between a lush forest and the undulating sea. Back then, they hadn’t known the warnings, hadn’t known exactly how dangerous that forest could be.
But the forest didn’t let them remain naïve for long.
Having befriended the town’s healer, the woman offered to watch Nikita so her parents could have some time to themselves. Alas, instead of utilizing the time to walk the beach as the healer had suggested, they decided instead to investigate the forest.
It was rare, townsfolk said afterward, a freak happenstance; elves hadn’t ventured so close to the town in generations. Yet, it seemed, that night they had.
Though two of them had set out, that night, only her father returned, his foot caught in the reins of his horse as the half-mad creature dragged him through town. They had never been capable of getting a clear idea of what had happened, but one thing was discernable in Nicodemus’ pain-induced rantings; they had encountered two creatures somewhere on a game trail they'd followed, two creatures whose descriptions fit with the elves known to live deep in the heart of the woods.
After, her father could remember only bits and pieces. Nikita was never sure if the elves had killed the woman outward, of if it was a curst that had done her in. But they did find the mangled body of both her mother and the horse she’d been riding.
Alas, her father never fully recovered, needing a cane on his best days. Though, he’d admitted, even if he’d been healthy, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave where his wife was buried. And so, Nikita became a denizen of Baxtree.
The clergy of the town took pity on them, offering them a plot of land at the edge of town in exchange for a percentage of anything they grew on it, or anything they hunted in the outskirts of the forest until they paid off their debt.
Her father did everything he could to provide a decent life for her, encouraging Nikita and teaching her things that many of the town called “man’s work.” At first, it seemed like the effects of the curse, if that was what had happened, had ended with her mother’s death. Her father remarried two years later to a woman who had sailed in from another country. Not long after, they had a son.
A woman coming from a bit of money, he and his new wife, Marian, had a small cottage built on the plot of land, replacing the caravan. After all, as a growing family, the needed the space.
But that family wasn’t to last.
Nicodemus IV was born a sickly thing. At first, they hadn’t thought he would survive, but, through some miracle—or perhaps curse, depending on how you look at it—the child survived.
When Nikita was fourteen, Marian was struck with an illness neither the town healer nor doctor had ever seen before. The woman wasted away slowly. Then, with the earth of her grave still fresh, Nikita’s father contracted the same disease.
While some of the braver townsfolk came to help, including the healer, no one else dared come near them for fear of this curse spreading. But it never did.
Nikita’s father died before her fifteenth birthday, leaving her and Nico to fend for themselves. Though the healer kept a close eye on the children, neither of them caught the disease.
From then on, Nikita did everything she could to take care of her brother and herself. She took what odd jobs she could, though finding them was difficult. No one wanted to risk the spread of whatever curse had befallen her family.
It was her and the all-but-bedridden Nico against the world. But now, even he seems to be crawling ever closer to Death's eager embrace.

Full Name: Evander Ambrosius Draklan

Nickname(s): Vander. Though technically a nickname, it’s what he usually goes by outside the need for aliases.

Aliases: As an immortal, he sheds aliases regularly. He likes to keep a few lined up for quick use, though he does favor using his actual name when it would be of little consequence, or when dealing with the other supernaturals of the world.

Appeared Age: Usually hears somewhere in his mid to late twenties. As he was changed when he was 28, this doesn’t surprise him.

Actual Age: Old enough to not care anymore (but if you did the math, he’d be about 902).

Race: Vampire

Nationality: German, as we’d call it today.

General Appearance: Height: 5’10” Build: He’s always had a strong, muscular build, even before being changed. Hair: Though he’s grown out his hair like he’d once kept it way back when, he’s been considering cutting it short again. But, for now, it’s fairly long, well kept, and dark brown. Eyes: Hazel. If you look close enough or in the right light, there’s a slight red tinge to his pupils, like red-eye in a bad photo. They dilate with the swell of his eternal thirst. This color will completely consume his eyes when he feeds or fully unleashes his powers. Skin Tone: More fair-skinned than outright undead pale. Anything Else: When retracted, his canines are always a smidge longer and sharper than your typical human’s, though not so much so that they would necessarily draw attention or scream “vampire.” However, when not retracted, they’re menacingly long, and the ones around them also morph into fangs, the canines remaining the longest among them.

Clothes Wear: Even when he dresses “casual,” it’s usually something rather classy. He quite misses the days when typical men’s fashion didn’t involve oversized graphic t-shirts and baggy pants, and is keeping hope that more classy dress will come back into style again. After all, bellbottoms made a comeback for a while, so why not?

Accessories: He doesn’t have many extravagant accessories, though he does have a ruby stud earring in his left ear, and a tiger-head ring with matching eyes that he favors.

Occupation: This has changed many times over the years. Though, in order to avoid it ending in a blood-drenched disaster, he’s had to work more in the background or otherwise in positions where he wasn’t around too many people for an extended period of time. Or outright manipulate humans to get the job done for him. At the moment, he’s in between jobs, and taking the time to see what’s new in this little section of the world he’s newly decided to call home again.

Weapon(s): He often keeps a Glock 21 (which he has bullets of various metals for, including silver ones) concealed about his person. As fast and powerful as he is, having a ranged weapon handy never hurt. He also has a small portion of his collection of various weapons locked away in the room he’s set aside as a study/office in his current rental house.

Personality: After many failed attempts at ending his and the warlock’s lives, Vander decided long ago that he would not let the warlock who turned him into a vampire win. As such, he’s spent his immortal life split between fighting the nagging thirst always clawing at him, and doing his best to embrace and enjoy what he is. Though he’s learned to read a person and alter how he acts to lure them away from the pack, in general, he’s highly aware of how strong he is, and holds himself with a cocky air worthy of the reputation he’s made for himself among the supernatural community, and often has a hard outward personality. A personality that’s just as much survival instinct as it is an ingrained habit at this point. However, when he’s alone, he’s a lot more relaxed, and dotes upon his cat like it’s the child he never had.
But a cat isn’t the same as being around humans or finding the true love and companionship his heart has desired since losing his family so long ago. And loneliness can do strange things to a person, especially when the only ones who break that up with any decent longevity are creatures that tend to bask in violence.
Over time, while trying to cling to his righteousness from when he was human, a part of him has fractured into two distinctive parts of himself: his fading humanity, and his bloodhaze. But it’s where the cracks spiderweb out from the main break, where one side reaches into the other, that he can become the most dangerous. He’s been known to snap between the two in a blink, and often has trouble telling exactly where his bloodhaze’s desire for violence and pain actually ends, or even if it ends, or if it has fully blended into who he has truly become.

Magical Abilities:. Smoke Mimicry: Though he can’t burst into a swarm of bats, he can turn into smoke, either entirely or in part. Used right, he can use this to essentially grant himself a form of flight. Hypnosis/Compulsion: Comes in handy when manipulating humans. He’s built this up enough that he can use it on some supernatural creatures, not just humans. Hyper-Healing: Alas, as he's found out from experience, while this means that most things that hurt him don't hurt for long, it doesn't dilute any pain itself. Being set on fire? Yeah, not fun. Exactly how quickly he recovers from things does have a dependency on how recently he's fed, and feeding after being injured helps greatly. Also, if he's been significantly (or repeatedly) injured, his bloodhaze will work itself into a frenzy, even if his body doesn't really need the blood. Pyrokinesis: This one is uncommon among his kind, and related to the history behind his change. He can control and summon fire. Though more a “party trick” to this, he can even change its color. Heat Haze: An off-shoot of the last, he can use the distorting powers of heat to create optical illusions.

Physical Abilities: Ye ol’ vampiric standards: heightened senses, strength, agility, etc. Everything that helps makes a vampire the ultimate predator.

Weaknesses: With his age, he has, in a sense, ‘outgrown’ what few of your typical vampiric weaknesses his kind have, and sunlight—though not something that could kill even fledglings of his kind—is a minor irritation that lightly weakens his overall strengths. And makes him extra irritable. No, he only has three real weaknesses anymore: 1) Killing his creator to kill him—though, as much as he'd rather be the one to do it, he’d thank you for that. 2) His need for blood. If he doesn’t hunt at the very least every two to three weeks, it will completely consume him. The longer he goes, the more it begins to be a physical ache, and weakens his abilities. But even in between, it’s a danger, his need and desire for blood and death an unrelenting beast. He’s been capable of gaining enough self-control to not attack anything with a heartbeat the moment it comes withing a mile of him, but it’s always an eternal struggle, even if it's just been an hour since he last fed. 3) Striking at the only things he’s allowed himself to grow attached to—like his cat, though he knows that even that animal will only be around for what is but a wisp to his eternity.

Other: Though he has since learned how to blend his mortal German accent into many local dialects, to this day, he easily slips back into this accent from time to time. As stated above, Vander is currently in a small rental house. While he could afford something larger for himself and his cat, since he ends up having to relocate fairly often to avoid others noticing that he doesn’t age, he prefers rentals. He does have a few permanent places that are out-of-the-way safe havens in a couple different countries, but he tries to not use them too often.

Mr. Fuzzums: A seven-year-old gray and white tabby cat with green eyes. Though not overweight, he isn’t exactly a skinny cat anymore, either. Vander often reassures him that it’s just all his “floof.” A couple years ago, Mr. Fuzzums found Vander while he was out hunting. Having gone a bit too long between feeding, Vander had been too focused on his prey to pay any great amount of attention to his surroundings. A hunter tried sneaking up on him to intercept his hunt. While the human hunter couldn’t have killed Vander, Mr. Fuzzums saved him from having to deal with the irritation of a stake through his heart. The cat jumped in out of seemingly nowhere, sinking its teeth and claws into the hunter’s face. After Vander killed the hunter and hid the body, he headed back to the apartment he was living in then, but the cat followed him home. He tried to get the cat to leave, but it would always be there, waiting for him when he left the building. So, since the blood of animals doesn’t call to him the same way the blood of humans does, they adopted each other. Since then, Vander has had a soft spot for cats, and has zero tolerance for animal abuse.


Bio: He was born the fifth son to an earl, whose bloodline has long since died out. Having been trained for and achieving knighthood, Vander had just been betrothed—an engagement that was equal parts strategy and true love—when he was sent off to fight in the Second Crusade ((if I have my dates in order, but I suppose that doesn’t matter to anything besides my OCD)).
It was a war he wouldn’t come back from alive.
During a raid, Vander and one of their officers had gotten separated from a couple others in his regiment as they set to burning down a town said to be steeped in witchcraft. Finding one particular home on the outskirts that had managed to avoid the initial onslaught, he and his officer entered it. There, they found tomes and various other things of a witchy nature, though they hadn’t really needed all that to justify burning it down.
But the small house wasn’t empty.
A woman tried to defend both it and herself. But, determined to “purge the world of her evil,” Vander and his officer quickly subdued her.
Having other things he needed to tend to, Vander’s officer left him to “salvage” whatever goods he could, then burn the place down, the bound and gagged witch inside included. Being an obedient soldier, Vander did as he was told, staying to make sure the last of these “accursed, evil hovels” burned to the ground.
But neither he nor his officer had thought to make sure that the woman was the only one who lived there.
The woman’s husband, a powerful warlock, came back to find his wife burning alive. So, to punish Vander for taking everything away from him, the warlock cursed the German to an immortal life of bloodlust.
Though at first the strengths that came with it seemed like they were a blessing, his bloodlust utilized further against the Muslims and Jews they were persecuting, it soon became a curse. With no control over his need for blood, in a single, bloodhaze-filled night, he killed everyone in his camp.
Comrades. Men he’d called brothers since his youth. Dead. All dead, and at his hands.
Horrified, Vander fled, hunting down the warlock who had cursed him. But he couldn’t get close before the spell binding them stopped him, casting him into a world of agony for his efforts.
He spent years trying to find out how to break this curse, and even tried committing suicide by any and every means. But the only way to end his life was to kill the immortal warlock who had changed him. Years later, in desperation, he went after the warlock again. In his desperate rage, he killed anyone he knew the warlock associated before going after the warlock himself. He got extremely close to succeeding before the agony of the magic tether dropped him.
The warlock kept his distance after that, leaving Vander to roam about the world of humans on his own. He’s met many other supernatural creatures on his travels, but he always longed for a life where he was back in control, where his eternal hunger wasn’t always nagging at him, and always overeager to indulge. He always tried to not kill his victims, but, alas, he’s only ever succeeded once, and even that was in recent years, with many, many kills behind him.
At first, as he thought he slowly gained some control over his bloodlust, he tried to integrate himself back amongst humans. Sometimes, he lasted a good month, others barely a few days before his thirst took over, stimulated by all the beating hearts and tantalizing aromas of all the liquid life.
He stopped trying after his tenth massacre, each one covered up by flames. The Great Fire of London? One of Vander's massacre cover-ups. He hadn't actually intended it to get that intense, but his control over fire then wasn't nearly what it today.
He was sick of all the death, sick from being the cause of it. Alas, it couldn’t be helped. But he vowed that he wouldn’t let the warlock truly win. One day, he’d find a way to stop him. To kill one monster to stop another.
So, he resigned himself to a lonely life devoted to making himself as strong as possible, while watching and manipulating humans from the shadows. For a short stint, he even took on hunting other supernatural creatures that preyed on humans and threatened to expose the supernatural world, all in an attempt to ease his conscience. Luckily for him, this was taken as him defending his own current hunting grounds. Different societies of supernaturals began to fear him, and both hate and respect him in equal measure.
Inadvertently, he’s made a name for himself among supernatural creatures, one that’s usually spoken of in reverence. Though he’s heard there are are only a couple vampires still around who are older than him, even they haven't dared confront him. Now, since the only other supernatural creatures who try to make friendly with him do so only out of fear, or because they want something from him, he avoids even them as much as he can.
The only good thing about being immortal is that humans are always changing. Leave a place long enough, and it would be like a new city, with new places to explore and new people. He's never lacking something to do. He’s done everything he can to enjoy his un-life. Though he has very few permanent residents, the ones he does have are filled with collections of art and books, instruments and weapons, and many other things from every era he’s lived through.
But in recent years, he hasn’t spent as much time in these permanent residents. He goes wherever the wind takes him—though he’s had to be careful to not stay in one place for too long, and avoid making attachments. He’s cared for far too many mortals and seen them lost—too often by his own hand—to let himself get close to humans again.
His cat—an odd creature in and of itself, as most animals fear the greater predator they sense in him—aside, he is completely alone in the world.

Full Name: Ruby Estel Sleeter

Nickname(s): If she likes you, she’ll accept Rue, but she prefers her full first name.

Appeared Age: Depends on how much makeup she’s put on. Without it, a bit younger than her actual age. With it, a bit older.

Actual Age: 21

Race: Human

General Appearance: Height: 5’ 3” Build: She has a lithe dancer’s body. Hair: As in the picture! She has it currently dyed light purple with sky-blue highlights. Though she’s a natural strawberry blond, she has it currently dyed light purple with sky-blue highlights. Kept in long, often messy layers. Eyes: Light blue.

Distinguishing Marks: She has a pair of midriff tattoos, one on either side of her torso; one is a stylized bat wing with its claws forming into curly-cues, the other a feathered wing. It’s just the outline of them so far. She’s currently working on saving up to get them colored—along with the nerve to get it done. The outline was bad enough; she's considering just leaving it as is, despite her original intentions. As much as she hates to admit it, she's a bit of a baby when it comes to things like that.

Clothes Wear: Whatever she feels is “cute” that day, while fitting with what level of comfort she's most in the mood for.

Accessories: She likes matching them to her outfit. But it’s rare for her to be seen without at lest one necklace. She has two lobe piercings on her left ear, and four on her right. Like with the tattoo, the fourth in the cartilage made her rethink getting more, and stopped her from evening out the other side.

Prized Possession(s): Does her cell phone count? She’d count her cell phone.

Occupation: Waitress at a diner her aunt owns. Though, she does hope to one day become a professional dancer. Or maybe an actress. She sees no reason to not aspire to both.

Weapon(s): She always keeps a taser and a can of pepper spray on her. She’s had reason to use them a couple times, and, quite honestly, found it quite satisfying giving the creeps what they deserved.

Personality: She is an extremely dominant personality. She’s a spunky, fiery girl, who is always moving. She’s rather loud for such a small thing, and has always been a major reason that she (and her friends) have gotten into trouble. She is very outspoken, doesn’t have much—if any—of a filter between her brain and tongue, and is a fierce and loyal friend. She's the type who will gladly protect her friends, especially her BFF ((You know, your character)), with her life.

Physical Abilities: She has some good core strength from years of dance classes, really good stamina, and is extremely bendy. She’s joked around about joining a circus as a contortionist, though even she has to admit that she isn’t actually that bendy.

Physical Weaknesses: She lacks strength outside the main areas necessary for dancing, and is exceptionally weak in her left arm. This is because of an old injury from one of her misadventures, which never fully healed quite right. Though, thankfully, it healed enough for her to continue on with her passion in dancing.

Full Name: Convallaria Nucifera Belrose

Nickname(s): For the love of everything, don’t use her full name. She only ever uses Valla (VAL-uh). Important paperwork excluded. Otherwise, only her mother bothers with her full name, and only when she’s in big trouble.

Name Significance: Her father was a botanist who ran the flower shop she and her mother inherited from him, and decided that “Lily” was too simple and common of a name. So he’d voted for using the scientific name for the “Lilly of the Valley,” because he hoped his daughter would be “Dangerous, but beautiful,” with part of the scientific name for a lotus as her middle name, because it was her parent’s shared favorite flower. Her mother had originally been against it, but changed her mind when the man died before Valla was born. Valla is still more than a bit bitter about having to learn how to spell her full name.

Age: 18

Race: Human, though she’s heard that her father had a hefty dose of magic that helped him grow flowers and such. An ability that has passed on to her in some lesser degree.

Hometown/Home World: Weirwell

General Appearance: Height: About average at 5’4” Hair: Vivid red that looks like it should be dyed, but it’s natural. She got it from her father’s side. Though she didn’t inherit more than a tiny spark of his family’s powers, she did get the vivid hair that follows their particular bloodline. Like in the picture, she wears it longer in the front than in the back, and it swoops over her right eye, often hiding that half of her face. Eyes: Silvery blue. Whether they look more silver or more blue depends on how the light hits them.

Distinguishing Marks: Her right arm has a series of claw marks that are (at the start) still healing. They span form her elbow to her wrist, with one trailing over the top of her hand. She currently keeps them bandaged. Though she went to a couple healers in town, their magic did little to help. Though they’ve been successful with treating many different wounds from those rare souls who have survived the attacks of the monsters that the townsfolk have dubbed Souleaters, the one that attacked Valla and her brother was different, and the Healer’s powers have proven to hold little, if any, sway; they’re taking longer to heal than what a normal cut should, and she suspects they’ll scar.

Clothes Wear: Normal: Normally, either simple blouses and flowing skirts, or sometimes simple, comfortable pants depending on what she plans on doing that day. Her “Warrior Garb”: Since finding the Mask, she’s since put together a sort of warrior outfit. An outfit that her Mask has taken to; the last time she donned the Mask to test a theory with it, it changed her clothes to match, even though she’d had no intention of putting the ensemble on. If she wants the outfit to remain when she removes the mask, it will. Her best guess is that whatever enchantment is on the Mask soaked into her outfit. An outfit that consists of: A red bodice with sleeves that taper wide at their opening, a small open portion at her chest. A black corset laced with gold strings cinches narrow waist over the fabric. Black leggings. Tall black boots with a slight heel, the rubber soles and the top rim lined with gold, while matching leafy fillagree decorates the out-facing side of each. A red open-front skirt with a slit in the back to allow for maneuverability in a fight or while prowling around completes the look. The blouse and skirt has gold thorn vines embroidered around their hems.

Accessories: Some sort of rope belt typically hangs at her waist. Under normal situations, it’s a simple black or brown. With her “Warrior Garb,” it’s black and gold. She keeps a black leather pouch with a ruby-like stone set up to hide its snap clasp. She can fit a fair amount in it, considering its size. Comes in handy. Otherwise, she isn’t a fan of accessories. They really just get in the way.

Prized Possession(s): Besides her Mask, her older brother’s journal. He was the secretive sort, and wrote the whole thing in code. She’s always wondered what it says, and if he’d written in it like that to keep it secret from her or their mother—if not both. It’s a small, leatherbound thing, its cover well-worn and singed, and its pages almost completely filled with his strange, small runes.

Occupation: Often stocks, mans, and grows the flowers for Fortune’s Flora, the best flower shop (and only one worthwhile, according to their customers) in town. She and her mother usually work together, though since her brother’s funeral—if you could really call it that—the woman has taken up doing most of it, hoping to give Valla the time she needs to grieve.

Weapon(s): Currently a bow staff and a dagger that had belonged to her brother. She often straps the dagger to one end of her staff, creating a polearm. No matter how hard she looked after he fought off the Souleaters, she couldn't find the sword he fought with. Both are pretty simple and plain. But her uncle, who is the only person she’s outright told about the powers of the Mask she found among her brother’s possessions, is currently working on making her a sword. Her brother taught her to wield both kinds of weapons, though where he learned how to use them, he refused to say. He’d always laugh, wink at her, then either walk away or force her to focus on her defensive rather than on her curiosity.

Personality: With her brother’s death still fresh, she is struggling to get back to normal daily tasks. To most others (her uncle excluded), she comes off as either borderline emotionless, or wrathful. She’s filled with anger, vengeance, and sorrow. All she wants is to find and destroy the Souleater that killed him, and hope that helps quell some of the guilt burning inside her. She’s mostly coiled into herself, letting her grief boil into other, more dangerous emotions rather than let the hurt out. However, she’s found that when she wears the Mask she discovered, some of her old fire and spunk return, though whether that’s because it gives her the abilities to kill the Souleaters, thus getting her that much closer to the vengeance she desires, or has something to do with the Mask itself, she’s not entirely sure.

Mask: Mask of Fangs and Fate. Like the provide picture, her mask is in the shape of a tiger. It only just covers her nose, leaving her mouth open. Made from soft, but durable leather, it has a black background, with red stripes outlined in gold. Gold lines the eyes, creates the whisker spots on its nose, and outlines the ears. It has no ties to keep it on, instead using its own magic to adhere itself to her face. It won’t come off unless she takes it off, and since it’s claimed her, it’s essentially “soulbound” to her—if someone tried to steal it, it would return to her. Likewise, she’s capable of summoning it with a thought, but its powers will only activate if she’s wearing it.


Mask Abilities: Heightened Senses: Enhances her sight (which, yes, meanst that despite it going partially over her eyes, it doesn’t impede her sight), hearing, smell, and taste. Physical Prowess: Enhances her reflexes, strength, and speed. Stealth: It dampens the sounds of her movements, allowing her to move in complete, light-footed silence. Tiger Physiology: She can choose to grow claws (long and black). And outside her control, whether she wants them or not, she ends up with a tail, which matches the Mask (black fur with gold-lined red stripes), and her canine teeth (top and bottom) and two adjacent teeth stretch and sharpen into subtle fangs. Weapon Boost: This is rather limited, and has a tie-in with her overall strengths. It enhances her skills with the staff, sword, and dagger. While she isn’t the greatest at fighting with them without the Mask (she knows enough to defend herself, but she’d only been training with her brother off and on for a couple years), with it, her prowess with these weapons is enhanced, which is further complimented by the Mask’s other abilities.

Major Mask Weakness: While the Mask can make her feel like she has more stamina than she normally would, it’s a dangerous illusion. The Mask’s abilities make it difficult for the wearer to notice or even, well, entirely mask her body’s fatigue until she takes it off, where it will catch up to her all at once. While Valla has yet to overdo it to a point where she’s collapsed as soon as she takes it off, she does have a budding suspicion about it with how drained she’s felt a few times after wearing it. Though, at the RP start, she does suppose it could just be her own adrenaline wearing off at the end of the night. If she wore the Mask constantly, but gave her body time to rest, it would rejuvenate it and help stave off this effect.

Other Magic Abilities: She has the minor ability to help coax plant life to grow quickly, and to enhance its appearance. She’s only ever used this on the flowers Fortune’s Flora, enhancing the appearance of the plants, making flowers grow quicker and even out of season, and stay fresh longer after they’re picked.

Family: Mother: Arianna Father (Deceased): Kittrick Brother (Recently Deceased): Dianthus (five-years Valla’s elder) (Everyone called him Anthus. “Dianthus” is part of the scientific term for carnations. Her mother had caved in letting their father name him. He was among the firsts to die fighting the Souleaters) Uncle: Tate Belrose (He was adopted. Which, let’s just say, is very obvious…)

Short Bio: (WIP)

Known Name: Calrin Ba’alinor

Pronunciation: CAL-rin BUH-al-IH-nore

Nickname: Rin

Epithet: Nomadic Prince.
It’s an epithet that he secretly started, and, to is delight, it caught on. He enjoys giving these to people, and has one for basically every Ruling House’s Head and declared Heir.
He quite enjoys calling Viktor the Blood Tempest. For better or worse, it’s caught on with the public.

Full/True Name: Kahal Nacier Ghuldari

Race: Djinn

Actual Age: 37

Appeared Age: Early to mid-twenties.
After djinn hit a certain age (usually between 18 and 25), they’re capable of freezing their aging process. He chose to stop that as soon as he was able to at age 23. While he could let himself age more physically, he has no desire to.

House Type: Ruling House

Rank in House: Unranked/Undeclared.
His House has remained in his direct bloodline for centuries, and it’s the only one that has never had a declared Heir. The Head of House (currently Irahara) goes through a process of mediation and walking the empty Dreamscape to divine who is to be the next Heir. Once known, the Head will not reveal this information, instead sending it out into a small pocket of the Dreamscape to be released in a Death Dream when the Head dies. The whole of the House’s line will receive this dream, and will be bound by the decision.
Because of this, this is also the only one of the Houses where there is no violent internal battle for the title of Heir. While other djinn and dream-walkers have tried to unseat the Ba’alinors, usually right after the passing of a Head, none have managed it, solidifying even the peoples belief in their unusual process.
Though no one but Irahara knows who her successor will be, everyone is his house is fairly confident that Calrin the one she’s chosen. If not the actual Heir, then, at the very least, they’re fairly sure that he’s Irahara’s favorite. Not that she shows that in public.

Relation to Head of House: Youngest son of the current Head.

Roll in House: As the youngest, most of the main duties not covered by their Head fall on his other siblings, leaving him basically free to do as he pleases. As such, he’s chosen to “maintain and strengthen the relations between his and the other Houses.” He meanders about the world, socializing with the other Ruling Houses and its peoples, and keeping an eye on the Noble Houses, making sure that all their allegiances still remain firmly on the side of their Ruling House—and, in turn, are still doing what they can to keep the everyone in line.
Really, it’s just an excuse for Calrin to experience everything the world has to offer. If there’s any truth in the suspicions that he’s the declared Heir, he may as well enjoy everything that he can before he has to wear the crown.

Racial Diet: Like all his kind, he needs two things to survive: normal food to maintain his corporeal body, and dream essence and the emotions that stem from it to sate his incorporeal side. While dream essence from both dreams and nightmares work, Calrin has found that, for him, nightmares and fear work—and ‘taste’—the best.
While he can technically feed off of the dreamstuffs of other supernatural creatures, those of humans always work best, and are far more delectable.

Appearance: He has two different forms—a corporeal form, and incorporeal.



Distinguishing Marks: He has a series of ear piercings in one ear that are always filled with some gemstone stud or gold loops. A series of tribal tattoos trail up both his arms in the same shade as his eyes. These tattoos are likewise mirrored on his incorporeal form, retaining the same shade against his ghostly coppery skin.

Favored Clothes Wear: If he doesn’t have to wear a shirt, he won’t. When he does, he likes soft, flowing fabrics. Countering the flow of his shirt, he usually wears a pair of jeans, and prefers going barefoot, but does own a few pairs of fancy riding boots.
If he’s ever out in the cold, you’d better believe he’ll have about fifty layers of warm clothes on him. And he’ll probably still complain.

Accessories: Besides his earrings and a belt to hang his swords, he always wears a pointed torc around his neck. What was once its opening has been soldered shut, turning it into a single piece of metal. Designed to match his favored weapons, the main metal of it is black, while engravings filled with copper form flowing runes in a dead language. Roughly translated, it reads, “The breath of a soul cannot be chained.”
This torc is more than just a pretty trinket; it’s a ward against the largest threat to his kind: the Entrapment Curse. A curse most djinn thought had been forgotten after the Uprising.
After the death of one of Calrin’s sisters due, in part, to this spell, Irahara spent many years developing something that could ward against this. She worked with quite a few trusted mages to create it, before, at long last, she succeeded. Alas, the materials for these were difficult to come by, and even harder to enchant. As such, she was only capable of making four of them.
As the Head of House, she kept one for herself. The remaining three were to be shared amongst the five living siblings, whoever was to be out for long periods of time to be the ones to wear them. However, with Calrin and Tahari constantly away, theirs became permanent gifts, leaving the remaining one to be shared.

General Personality: Calrin is typically good-humored, flamboyant, a bit flirtatious with the ladies, and enjoys the occasional practical joke among friends—or at least close acquaintances. As a royal, he always has the nagging knowledge in the back of his mind that he can’t really make any friends; sometimes, it can be difficult to tell the well-trained suck-ups from true friend material.
While “party boy” could almost fit him, it isn’t quite right. Though, he has found that he can hold his own against an orc in a drink-off fairly well. Discovered purely to build a good rapport with the House of giants, of course.
Despite his easy-going personality, he does know there are situations where seriousness is required. While he tends to be slow to anger or otherwise bounces back form it really quick. if you do truly make him mad, you can’t even run from him—he’ll find you in your sleep.
When it comes to humans, he’s a bit on the fence. He’s seen more of how they’re treated than many in the Ruling Houses, seen the kind of squalor most of them have been forced into. A part of him feels bad for the ones just trying to get by, but, as someone who feeds on the nightmares and fear of humans, and thoroughly enjoys being the cause of both of those, he doesn’t have much room to talk.

Public Reputation: In the Supernatural Community: He’s known to be a bit of a chameleon, fitting in just about everywhere he goes. Though there are those who look down on him for his conduct, he’s well liked among a vast majority of the supernatural population, shifting between his usual airy self and the more serious diplomatic prince depending on who—and which House—he’s interacting with.
Since he’s one of the few who don’t just pass through the territories, but actually mingles with the Houses and commoners alike, he’s wound up with a couple small ‘fan clubs,’ of a sort. While he isn’t the only House member with such a following, he certainly isn’t upset to be among the few who do have them.
Despite what some bits of his personality may lead others to think about him, he’s known to be the chivalrous type, and for treating everyone as his equal, rather than like subjects.
In the Human Communities: While he doesn’t treat humans exceptionally well, in public, he typically doesn’t inherently treat them poorly, either. But if he locks his sights on someone to be his next dream-feed, then he’s known to become downright cruel. Though he doesn’t kill humans to feed—as long as he only does it from the same one once or twice in a row—he knows how to play on their fears, to toy with them while they’re awake so their nightmares are genuine.
The most they can do is keep their heads down, and try to not let their fear of him grow strong enough for him to smell it. Because once they’re chosen, it’s almost impossible for them to tell reality from Calrin’s mind tampering.
They’ve heard rumor that it’s not uncommon for those human offerings from his territory who get sent to travel with him or to others of his House to die from sleep deprivation, or even from heart attacks in their sleep—literally dying from fear—no matter how young or healthy they may have been when they arrived at the House.

Weapons: A pair of yatagan swords. The blades are black, and the handles are made of bone with copper-filled inlay. Flowing script of a long-dead language curls over the blades on either side, the engravings again filled with a coppery substance. The text translates roughly to, “Life is but a dream steeped in nightmare.”
While usually only clothes (and usually only lighter ones at that) and small jewelry items will translate properly into his incorporeal form, these are designed to withstand that shift, and will come over into this spirit-like form. Here, while they can’t harm other living creatures, since they exist on that in-between, metaphysical plane of existence, they’re useful against other creatures that can also traverse this plane.

Magic Abilities: What powers he has depends on what form he’s in. Though, there is one thing he has in both: a slight resistance to magic and enchantments. Since his body is technically existing in both planes to some extent (here’s always some part of him tethered to the physical or spiritual world, which is what allows him to alternate between forms at will), this makes it harder for certain types of magic to fully affect him.



Physical Abilities: Corporeal: He’s light enough on his feet for his size, but his muscles aren’t just for show. He isn’t the quickest on a battlefield, but he makes up for it in strength and precision. Incorporeal: In this form, he is, by definition, non-physical. He retains his physical strength and gains extra speed from not having a physical body to slow him down, which he can use against anything else he may encounter on this plane of existence.

Other Weaknesses: The more he uses his powers, the more he has to eat—in both forms. For someone who feeds on emotions, he's not good with dealing with his own, true emotions.
Entrapment Curse – As mentioned earlier, this is the largest threat to djinn. That old genie in a bottle bit? This curse is where that comes from. It’s possible for a djinn to be trapped while in their incorporeal form. This curse enhances their abilities, allowing them to fully alter reality to grant whatever wishes the owner of their cage (it doesn’t have to be an oil lamp) demands. Which, no, isn’t limited to three wishes. Basically, it forces them to trade their freedom for power. But this also means that it limits how often they can feed from dreams, while also syphoning their power and strength quicker. This often means that a cursed and trapped djinn will die within a couple weeks to a month.



Other: He absolutely loathes the cold. While the placement of his House’s territory ensures that they have more hot days than cold ones, if he’s ever somewhere where the temperatures drop below fifty, you’re more likely to find him bundled up in front of a fireplace drinking something hot (and spiked) than out and about.

On-Record Bio: (WIP) (I’m too lazy to write this up in full right now, so it gets to be a random fact-mess. I'll add to it if/when I actually need to.)
> Before he began his travels about the world, he was known to spend a lot of time with the House of his neighboring territories, which included the Carmine House, lending his skills in fighting to teach some of what he knew to the younger Heir, while also honing his own abilities in going up against magic-users.

Full True Name: Nivara Yasabelle Xonnovan

Age: 21

Name on the Census: Jennifer Elderson
She didn’t want to use Nyx or any other variation of her preferred name/alias in order to avoid the Eldersons getting caught in the cross-fire in the event she gets herself caught. Alas, the wretched census requires her to be registered and present for the bi-annual census. Some old contacts of hers helped her fake all the necessary papers. On the off chance someone looked into the records of Jennifer Elderson, she has a full history detailing her fake past life on file.

Current Residentcy on File: Ragford of the Lanquin Region – Salvolette Territory.
“Jennifer Elderson” is registered as a permanent resident of the Elderson household. The story is that she’s their fourth cousin, originally from Oxdale, a city far to the south, and that she came to them after her parents died in an unfortunate accident involving a poorly-constructed apartment stairwell.
The truth is that the Eldersons are some of the only remaining friends of her parents, and some of the few who had no idea that her parents were the leaders of the Rising Dawn until their death.

Preferred Name: Nyx Noven – Her true initials, paired with a shortening of her adoptive parents’ surname. The infamy of “Xonnovan” forced her to at least shorten it to something not so recognizable.
She uses this whenever she’s abroad, but is careful to use Jennifer Elderson when she’s in Ragford and around anyone besides the Eldersons themselves.

Other Aliases: As a thief, she’s known as the Stardust Phantom.

Race: Human, but she’s been faerie-touched. Or, at least, she suspects she has been.
Thankfully, the effects of it are faint enough for it avoid detection from even most supernatural creatures—fae themselves excluded. While this does give her some abilities and minor resistances that most humans lack, it isn’t enough for her to even pretend to be anything besides human.

Appearance:
Height: 5’4”
Weight: Around 108 lbs.
Build: Though she has some muscles on her from training and spending long nights on the prowl, she is rather thin due to a lack in a steady full diet. She’s no stranger to going hungry.
Eyes: Light brown around her pupil, the color spreads out into a silvery circle.
Hair: Brown and curly, often with a bit of frizz adding extra volume to the already thick locks. She keeps it long whenever possible, though she has cut it short before—which practically turned it into an afro. She always keeps at least one hair tie on her to pull it back when she wants to keep it out of her face.

Distinguishing Marks: She’s been careful to avoid getting any difficult-to-hide scars, and is thankful that she doesn’t have any extremely distinguishable marks on any part of her that isn’t easily covered by clothes. Makes her that much harder to identify in a crowd, which is exactly what she needs as a thief.
She does have a few scars on her arms from mishaps while doing some of the hard labor jobs available to humans, and has one just beneath her ribcage where someone she’d tried to rob had managed to stab her. In her defense, it happened in her earlier thieving days.

Favored Clothes Type: As a human, she can’t afford to be picky, so she’ll take whatever she can get—within reason. Which usually means cheap fabrics, which are often second-hand.
She does prefer more nature–esque colors, finding that she likes how she looks in them, as well as because they’re practical in that they don’t make her stand out in a crowd.

Thief Garb: Though she’d rather have kept it fairly simple and easily replaced, over the years, Edlyn and a ‘friend’ of hers have ultimately collected or made various pieces of garb that make it a bit more unique, adding to the aptness of her epithet.
Innerwear: All in gray, she wears a simple, form-fitting long-sleeved shirt and jeans, both of which are rather worn. Beneath that, she wraps her chest to help disguise her feminine shape, and keeps her hair stuffed beneath a tight cap.
Outerwear:
> Vest – She has a gray leather vest loaded with pockets, both obvious and hidden. It fits her snugly, slimming the possibility of getting caught on anything. It also has a hood, its edges slightly weighted to help keep it in place when she has it up—which is usually whenever she wears it. Her sister used some chameleon thread she’d bartered off of a shapeshifter working with the Rising Dawn to embroider a series of constellations on the entirety of the garment.
A pure, impossibly dark black that stands out against the gray of the coat, the chameleon thread is enchanted to shift from its original color to match the fabric it’s on, making it invisible to the naked eye. When used correctly, it can be used to create shifting designs, alternating between that “invisibility” and its original color. After some trial and error, Edlyn figured it out.
To this day, Nyx isn’t entirely sure how many different constellations the older girl embroidered on it.
> Boots – A dusty, faded black teetering toward gray, her boots rise up to her mid-calf. Each has a sheath for a long, thin throwing dagger attached to it.
> Gloves + Bracers – A bit darker shade of gray than the rest of her outfit, she has a pair of tight-fitting gloves. They go a few inches past her wrist, disappearing into a pair of light brown leather bracers that wrap the sleeves of her shirt. These provide a bit of extra protection as well as housing more throwing daggers. Like her coat, constellations shift over the bracers.
> Mask – Something she got from Arowin, it’s quite the masterpiece. When she’s still hidden, it’s as black as the color can get. It covers her eyes and nose. A few black stars dangle from the curves at her cheeks. However, if she’s spotted, the mask ripples to life. Stars and silver fillagree sprout over the dark surface like living galaxies, and the black dangle stars change to silver. A silvery sheen will glow over the eye holes, concealing her eyes from whoever spotted her while leaving her sight clear, like a one-way mirror.
This enchantment is not just for show; there have been a few times where the shift in it to mask her eyes alerted her that she’d been spotted, before she realized on her own that she’d been seen. This mask doesn’t need any kind of strap to stay in place—it does that all by itself once she puts it to her face.
> Accessories – A belt crowded with a few more weapons and various pouches, some empty for goods and others filled with various tricks of her trade, depending on what she suspects she’d need for her current mission.

Calling Card: One of the two reasons that she’s been dubbed the Stardust Phantom is that she leaves a non-magical version of her “stardust” (see “Weapons” section below) in place of the items she stole. Doing this was actually Edlyn’s idea. What she leaves behind resembles the functional stardust, only the grains are a bit larger (like extra course sand), and lose their glow after about two days if not kept in a sealed pouch. In their pouch or if left in a place where there’s a bit less airflow, they can glow for up to a week. When they lose their pulsing glow, they’re black, but glitter with silver specks, similar to sandstone.

Reputation: Though she never expected to become a famous thief, she’s managed exactly that. She travels often, trying to keep her targets guessing of where she might strike next, as well as keeping them off the scent of her real place of residence. She’s heard rumor that whispers of her have started to make it into regions beyond where she’s thieved in, the stories about her and her conquests getting blown into legendary proportions among the human populus. Needless to say, she’s managed to steal from quite a few notable Noble Houses—none of the Ruling Houses, mind… yet—despite their best spells and defenses.
Because of this, she has quite the significant bounty on her head, and tries to not think about what punishment would await her if she gets caught, especially considering the significance of some of the items she’s ‘traded’ for her worthless stardust.
So far, though, it has been easy for her to evade capture; that everyone still believes the Stardust Phantom is a boy helps quite a bit.
A sort of Robbin Hood among those who whisper her name, she only steals for herself when she absolutely needs to. Any money from selling goods often goes anonymously to human townsfolk in the most need—though some have suspected where it’s come from, and have shared their suspicions often enough for that to also be woven into her legends—or the items get donated to the Diamond Templar—the rebel group that recruited her after discovering her relation to the Xonnovans.
She isn’t just good at thievery; her rebel group often uses her for reconnaissance, and she has also managed to copy various documents detailing different defenses the supernatural nobility they target have employed.
As it is, in the eyes of the authorities and the Houses, it’s unclear whether the Stardust Phantom is actively working with the Diamond Templar, or was simply a hired hand. While some of the goods reported stolen by the Stardust Phantom have been discovered after use in the Templar’s escapades, the Phantom otherwise doesn’t appear to followed the supposed activities of the Diamond Templar.

A Thievery Goal: She someday hopes to be capable of slipping into one of the Ruling Houses in order to hunt for the documentation they keep detailing the many human ‘offerings’ taken over the recent years. She doesn’t know how far back they keep records of them, but she’s hoping that they maintain them as long as the humans are alive—and that her sister is one of them.
It’s that, or have one of her contacts through the Diamond Templar rig it so her name gets drawn for the next living tax offering, and hope that she goes to one of the Ruling Houses, or a prominent enough Noble House. Between the two options, she’d rather risk capture and death from trying to sneak into the headquarters of a Ruling House, than become some pet or personal livestock to a wretched supernatural, but she’s willing to do whatever she needs to if it means she could find and rescue her sister.
Both would mean giving up her life to the monsters she hates. But at least the worst that infiltrating or stealing from a Ruling House would bring is only death.

Weapons + Tools of her Trade: Though not legal for humans to have anything besides practical, everyday use equipment (and even those are regulated), she has managed to procure various knives, daggers, lockpicking tools, and even a couple poisons. When not in use, she keeps these safely hidden along with her thief garb.
Stardust: This is a substance she only uses when she’s out as the Stardust Phantom—and is the second reason she’s acquired this epithet. A substance her brilliant sister originally discovered how to make by complete accident, it isn’t actual stardust, of course.
After it’s been properly treated and processed—a process that also involves a smidge of faerie magic in the form of a potion that Arowin provides—it takes on a granular, sand-like texture. Each fair-sized grain glitters with a slight bioluminescence.
When a handful of the stuff is thrown to the ground with enough force, it creates a sparkling mist that messes with the vision of any onlookers, making them “see stars,” as the phrase goes, allowing her to escape on those now rare occasions when she’s spotted. It works on even a majority of supernatural creatures as well as humans, but she’s found that it doesn’t affect her in the least. Whether that’s due to her being faerie-touched or because of the enchantment on her mask, she’s never been sure, and Arowin is never exactly forthcoming about the how or what of his magic.
Unlike the fake stuff she leaves as a calling card, the soft, pulsing glow on this will only fade once it’s been used.

General Personality: Nyx is disgusted by how complacent so many of the humans have become. While she recognizes that it’s all they’ve ever known, that any attempts at rebellion throughout history have been publicly ended with slaughter (even the supernatural empathizers dying slow, agonizing deaths), it still makes her both sick and sad.
But Nyx is far from content. She longs for the freedom she’s read about in the forbidden books her adoptive parents kept hidden. She wants to see her fellow humans treated feialry. She wants to stop anyone else from having to go through the loss she has.
She harbors a strong hatred and resentment of the Houses, though she’s learned to recognize that not all supernatural beings are bad—after all, plenty of them were partnered with the Rising Dawn, and died for its cause. She’s even friends with a few of them herself.
Since losing most of her family, she cares little for her own life or safety, and jumps on any opportunity to bring chaos to the Houses and other strong supernaturals.
She’s willing to do just about anything as long as it would mean seeing the downfall of the Ruling Houses, and mean she’d get the chance to see her sister—or at least find out if she’s even still alive—again.
She is fierce and protective of those who she’s learned to trust and care for, and is quick to jump into a fight—which is one reason she’s had difficulties holding down any kind of job, especially better servant-type jobs in the larger cities. Her temper has nearly cost her her life on a couple occasions. Since then, she has tried to control it, with varying success. Taking on her alter as the Stardust Phantom does help a bit, since it gives her an outlet to get back at the creatures she sees messing with other humans.

Occupation: She tends to bounce around in her day jobs—which is a nice way to say she has some troubles holding a single steady job. Right now, Mrs. Elderson has her registered as being her assistant to her small seamstress shop.
However, that’s just a cover, and only what’s “on the books.” The reality is that she’s often traveling, moonlighting as a thief and a spy for the Diamond Templar as much as for herself to scratch the rebellious itch for freedom that permeates her soul.

Physical Abilities: Extremely stealthy—if she doesn’t want to be heard, she won’t be. Agile. Fairly strong from spending a lot of time training to fight with blades and bare hands alike. Quick for a human, but not to any supernatural degree. Dexterous. She’s always been good at climbing things.

Magic Abilities: None. Not directly, anyway, as one could argue that her faerie-touched physical abilities come from magic.

Weaknesses + Flaws: Her short fuse. Blunt. Stubborn. Paranoid. Though she has decent muscle, her poor diet of whatever-she-can-get-her-hands-on has made it difficult for her to build any significant muscle.

Family:
> Biological Family – Unknown. Status: Presumed dead.
> Adoptive Parents – Lilith and Elias Xonnovan. Status: Deceased.
> Adoptive Siblings – Edlyn Xonnovan. Status: Unknown. Would be 24 if alive.
> Other –

Arowin: A 'friend' of hers, Arowin (uh-ROW-in) is one of the fae. She calls him Aro, for short. Though, she uses ‘friend’ rather loosely. She ultimately doesn’t fully trust him, and suspects he’d turn on her in a heartbeat if it meant saving his own skin, but he has been good to her over the years. And I do mean years; she first encountered him when she was seven, and he’s been around ever since.
Though he’s always refused to confirm or deny whether or not Nyx was indeed faerie-touched, that he continues to hang around her only strengthens the belief. She’s always been good with the smaller fae, but he’s the strongest of the ones she’s met, and the only one who has stuck around.
He provides her with the rare potion she needs for her stardust and the occasional other magic item, and in turn she brings him various gifts or steals things for him that he can’t get himself due to wards designed to keep out supernatural beings like him.
Though she’s constantly on the move, the one thing she can trust is that all she needs to do is go into the nearest woods, alone, and she’ll eventually run into him.
Alas, that scar she has beneath her ribcage? It has put her in a life-debt to Arowin, who has yet to cash in. Suspiciously, he hasn’t mentioned it since, but Nyx knows better than to hope that he’s forgotten about it.


On-Record Bio: As far as the official records know, Nivara Yasabelle Xonnovan died four years ago with her adoptive parents when the headquarters of the Risen Dawn was burned down, its members killed for treason against the Ruling Houses.
The records know that she was an adoptive member of the Xonnovan family, taken in when she was no older than two years old. She, with the Xonnovans, lived in the slums of a city called Ironvale.
It is believed that she worked alongside the Xonnovans’ in the Rising Dawn, and witnesses attest to having seen the teenaged girl enter the building that was their temporary headquarters at the time with her parents on several occasions.
The Xonnovans formed the Rising Dawn not long after the name of their biological daughter, Edlyn Xonnovan, was drawn to be one of their region’s offerings.
Nivara was only fifteen years of age at the time, Edlyn eighteen. As is customary once a human has been Offered and Chosen, Edlyn was forced to cut contact with her family, her fate unknown to them.
Not much else is known about Nivara. She otherwise had a clean record, and had bounced around between different low-paying jobs between attending a local school that admitted only humans.