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[color=2E2C2C][sup]_______________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center][hider=// INFO][indent][sub][b]P E R S O N A L  D E T A I L S[/b][/SUB]

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[b]Full Name[/b][COLOR=#807B84] – Moriya Mio[/COLOR]
[b]Age[/b][COLOR=#807B84] - 20[/COLOR]
[B]Gender[/B][COLOR=#807B84] - Female[/COLOR]
[b]Occupation[/b][COLOR=#807B84] – Blacksmith’s Apprentice[/COLOR][/color][/SUP]

[color=#2e2c2c]-[/color][/indent][/hider]
[hider=// PERSONALITY][indent][SUB][b]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/b][/sub]

[sup][COLOR=SILVER][b]Tempered[/b]
[COLOR=#807B84][color=f26522]“[i]That’s the problem, you know. You think you’re the fire, but you’re the metal.[/i]”[/color]

If it weren’t for her size, you might never know Mio was there. She speaks softly and maintains a serene demeanor, and it is by every measure an effort. She has encased herself in an armor of patience, and has not raised her voice in anger since she was still little. Her mind is filled with a myriad of calming mantras, meditative techniques, and sermons on tranquility. Quenched steel might lose its heat, but cold metal can still cut—she can’t afford to be complacent.[/COLOR][/COLOR]

[COLOR=SILVER][b]Imperfect Alloy[/b]
[COLOR=#807B84][color=f26522]“[i]You don’t smile right, girl. If a wolf shows you its teeth, it’s not happy—it’s gonna bite you.[/i]”[/color]

The urges and impulses that plagued her as a child never went away. She knew better than to believe they could be buried, and though she tried her best to quell them, they’re still there, baked into her every moment whether she realizes it or not. Though often well-composed, one can still see that the fire in the forge doesn’t leave her when she walks away. It’s still there in her eyes, in her gait, in the bridled way she handles the curtness of others. Against her wishes, the world seems bent on trying to pry violence out of her, but even if it’s a fight she can never win, she’s determined to do her best not to [i]lose[/i].[/COLOR][/COLOR]

[COLOR=SILVER][b]Sweated Steel[/b]
[COLOR=#807B84][color=f26522]“[i]Sometimes I think you wake up to remind the sun it’s got a job to do.[/i]”[/color]

Mio considers herself exceptionally hard-working, not out of arrogance but necessity. Each morning she’s up before dawn, fed and exercised and headed to the forge while the moon’s still watching. When an order comes in she gets to work immediately, heading a project herself, or assisting either Tetsu or Tsubasa as needed. In downtime she cleans, she organizes, she runs errands entirely unrelated to the forge. Anything to keep busy. Anything to keep the mind off itself. Idle hands tempt maligned action.[/COLOR][/COLOR]
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[hider=// SKILLSET][indent][SUB][b]S K I L L S E T[/b][/sub]

[sup][COLOR=SILVER][b]Blacksmith's Apprentice[/b]
[COLOR=#807B84]Mio knows her way around a forge. Be it structural components, tools, or, sometimes, little knick-knacks just for fun, Tetsu’s shop can do it all. She’s nowhere near as skilled as her master, and as a craftsman she’s fairly sure Tsubasa is the more skillful apprentice, but Mio is no novice anymore, and she excels at repairs in particular.[/COLOR][/COLOR]

[COLOR=SILVER][b]Body of Work[/b]
[COLOR=#807B84]A decade of hard work and diligent exercise has made Mio almost as strong as the metals she works with. If there’s heavy lifting to be done, whether it’s around the shop or out on the town, she’s your girl. As well, her years by the forge have granted her a slight resilience to heat, and if you get too close to her you might swear she took some of its warmth with her.[/COLOR][/COLOR]

[COLOR=SILVER][b]Independent[/b]
[COLOR=#807B84]The soft-ostracization Mio faces from both the village and her own family forced her to learn self-reliance at a young age. As a result, she’s incredibly responsible, able to take care of herself, cook, clean, and manage both a home and the forge without much trouble. It’s done nothing for her nonexistent social skills, but it does make her a dependable handywoman.[/COLOR][/COLOR]

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[/cell][cell][b]Physical Description[/b]
[color=#807B84][indent]Mio is imposing, and it stresses her out. She’s taller than most people in the village, even those older than she is, and practically a decade of working with heavy metals has given her a physique of hard muscle and the stamina of a field ox. Wherever she goes, Mio casts a long and intimidating shadow that most people would rather scurry out of than look up at. 

If they did though, they wouldn’t find much comfort. Mio isn’t an angry looking person, but being around her, you’re likely to be struck by a disconcerting anxiety. She tries to keep on a warm smile, and on another face, her eyes might be considered safe and comforting. On her though, people swear they see something in them. They hold firelight too long and too easy, and their brightness makes it hard to tell whether she’s happy, or about to do something…bad. 

Her hair is a soft sunset color, and goes down to her back. She dresses lightly for the hours spent around roaring fires and scalding metals. There are a fair few burn scars up and down her arms, and across her sides, from the early mistakes all apprentices make, but she makes no effort to hide them.
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[b]Character Conceptualization[/b]
[color=#807B84][indent]When Mio was six years old, she smashed a frog’s leg with a rock. She remembers it vividly, and the gut-wrenching horror that rooted in her as it hopped oblongly away even more so. She remembers running to her parents, screaming and crying that the trees were going to eat her for being evil. Of course, when they found out what she’d done, they did their best to comfort her; then, when she’d finally calmed down, they scolded her gently, and brought her out to pray forgiveness for what she’d done. Kneeling there with her head pressed to the dirt, Mio had never felt so scared. Ultimately, it seemed the kami decided to spare her the agony of eternal damnation, or exile, and she went back to being a normal child. 

When she was ten it happened again. Sitting on a bench behind her family’s home, a small bird perched itself on her hand. It wasn’t the first time; Mio had a penchant for stillness that most wildlife found amicable, and she often found herself subject to the company of birds, and squirrels, and wild cats. It was pleasant, usually, and there was warmth in being trusted by something so small, so soft. So fragile. 

It didn’t move when she slowly closed her hand around it, but when she squeezed it fought back. It shrieked, it thrashed, it pecked at her hand with its sharp little beak and drew blood, but Mio didn’t let go. She just squeezed, until her mom found her and wrenched the poor thing out of her grasp. 

This time there was no comforting. Her parents demanded answers that she didn’t have; she knew it was wrong, she felt terrible, and she didn’t know why she did it. They looked at her like a stranger, they treated her like a yokai in the shape of their daughter. 

Animals didn’t come to her anymore after that. She felt an eerie discomfort whenever she drew too close to the forest, and soon that anxiousness began to follow her everywhere. The villagers seemed to sense it; there was a wariness about them when she was in their presence, even when she was still little. People stopped talking to her, stopped visiting her house. They averted their eyes like they could see something in her own that upset them. Before long, her company was scarce. Just about the only person who would actually speak to her was the local blacksmith, Tetsu, and he was more disliked than she was. 

Her parents didn’t care that she spent so much time around a delinquent; it got her out of the house, away from them. Whether the man was taking pity on her, or just wanted an extra pair of hands to dump his work into, at ten Mio began to work as Tetsu’s apprentice. 

The work helped. Smithing gave her a focus, a channel for the feelings she had but didn’t understand. She turned her impulses to the forge, and the crucible, and gave what remained to the flames. She started to smile again, even if she didn’t often have anyone to share it with. 

As time went on, Mio grew taller than her mother, then her father, and eventually you’d have been hard-pressed to find an adult in Heisana who could stand at-eyes with her. Combined with her muscled build and the unnerving air she’s been unable to shake even into young adulthood, her regard in the village did not improve, despite her best efforts. In some ways she began to adopt Tetsu’s ill reputation, though she attended few parties and never touched alcohol. 

But she doesn’t mind. In ten years, she hasn’t hurt a single breathing thing, intentionally or otherwise. The urges have become a part of her, and each day they pass from head, to heart, to hand, to hammer and finally to metal. Never thanked for her work, never welcomed as warmly as the forge, as long as she can keep her peace, Mio is content to be who she is. 

It’s better than what she could be.[/indent][/color]
[b]Other Information[/b]
[color=#807B84][indent]Mio has only learned a couple of signs to help out around the forge. [u][i]Reinforce[/i][/u] to make handling white-hot metals less of a danger, and [u][i]Mend[/i][/u] for when a project just needs a little touching up.

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