LovelyAnastasia

Mirage Ablaze

Works for me! And would you like to? I have a doctors appointment early in the morning?

Mirage Ablaze

Name:

Chiyoe no Kurushime "Tormented Thousand Generations"

Age:

47 in human years, but rather young for an oni

Race:

Nure Onago, a Nure Onna

Gender:

Female

Appearance:

How the Artists Render Her

Weapon(s):

A dagger called Saigo or Last Breath

Class: Mage - Masters of the mystical arts, mages are proficient in one elemental spell, but their skills with warrior weapons are very poor.

Bio:

She was born of sorrow like more Nure-onna are. For a child of her bloodline to live, their human father's lives must be taken in exchange. And this usually leads to contempt and bitterness to lie between mother and child. But not in the Kurushime women. For three generations the female oni have fallen in love with human males. And for three generations their lovers have been so enchanted with their beauty, so enraptured with their love and so loyally dedicated to their happiness that they have willingly given up their lives for the Kurushime women.

And it was so exception on the night Chiyoe was born, a full moon as her mobile and the lapping lake waves as her lullaby. At first her mother could not stand the sight of her, for even one look at her daughter brought on fits of sobbing wailing cries. It was Chiyoe's grandmother who cared for her mostly in the every early years of her existence. For, sincerely, that was all it was. An existence.

With no battles against humans to wage, the Nure-onna and their magics were abandoned. Living either in brothels or as mistresses to high officials, there was seldom a need for any other talents than their beauty. And, in her grief, Chiyoe's mother gave her body to a wealthy man, for his pleasure. The smiles that graced her mother's face were no more than those of a well painted mask. With the death of her father, her mother's love as gone with him.

And Chiyoe was nurtured for by her grandmother, though her mother was indeed kind enough to ask her new master to let them live in their luxurious estate. So Chiyoe was not uncomfortable growing up, even though the other concubines' children never played with her, for fear of the oni blood in her veins. And there were often whispers of envy among the human women, since the Kurushime women were all youthful beauties that aged far too slowly and never seemed to get sick or come down with pox. But it was the men's eyes Chiyoe disliked most of all.

Those leering eyes came from boys, guards, tutors, and even the lord of the manor. They all fell on her with heaviness and tried to worm their way into her nightmares. Leering eyes and lecherous gazes making her skin crawl as if she could fell their hands all over her... Her grandmother trained in the manners of a proper Nure-onna. To remain removed, aloof and distant from the terrible humans. To rise above their scorn and poisonous words. And to never lose herself to her magic.

For an oni that harms a human is intolerable.

Special Ability:

Heavy magic spells over water
+Drawing the water from plants to form mists to hide in or use as a sphere of protection

magic

Misc:

Her Grandmother And Her Mother

Artist Renderings of Her Kind

Theme Musics

((i know it's in Chinese but it fits her perfectly))

A song to find a lover to

Traveling theme

All around theme

Mirage Ablaze

How about "A Blazing Path"? Or "Setting The Path of Destiny On Fire"?

Event Horizon (Old Thread)

Miora Sphere: Pilot and Always Amused

Mood Music

_{Interactions/Mentions: Gera & Doctor Metal @BurningCold, Horror Girl @The1Rolling1Boy, Glaring Bulldog @Starlance, @Kaiachi Ms. Nervous Giggles, @FortunesFaded Mr. Mountain Lion and his friend (Royland)}

---

"Well, al'ight then!" she beamed up at Gera and gave him a companionable smack on the arm, "Ye ken yer growin' on me fast, that's for bloody sure!" She grinned and chuckled, eye gleaming with mischief as he added a whisper back. "Ah, yer a smarta** of a lad, aren't ye?" she grinned, putting her cigar to her lips once more, "Good, good, it make ye far more tolerable."

"The ship? Oh, aye, she's lovely, she is," she grinned a bit softer, "Young thing is bound to kick up a good bit o' star dust. we've just gotta take care of her and push her to her limits nice and gentle. I gotta feelin' she'll be a good tough ship to work with."

She puffed out a ring of mist and looked about the group again, noticing the wary and mistrustful looks she was earning. D*mn yuppies, glaring at her. They'd see why she was chosen for this job and then they could swallow back all that poison pouring from their eyes.

Even the Doc and Ms. Nervous Giggles were looking at her sideways. Now she could understand the scientists and gun-toters, but et tu Doctor Metal? Ah, such an unscrupulous lot they all were. Well, her included. The pilot grinned like a wolf, but that smile faltered a bit with the look on the Mountain Lion's friend's face. Concern and worry were two things she hated seeing on rough and rumble types. And if their friends were worried, that also made her worry. And she hated worrying. Gave people wrinkles. Taking a long deep drag of her cigar, she blew out mist from the corner of her mouth without ceremony.

But then Miroa caught a less than favorable glare from a solider looking Bulldog. Or was it the other way around? She could never tell with hired guns and military hounds. Glaring at her. Honestly. Smirking at him and giving him a spiteful wink, she chuckled to herself, bringing her cigar up to her lips for another scentless puff.

Ugh, but creepy molly baby doll was really getting under her skin. Horror girl really knew how to set someone on edge. And she hardly made any sense, like a victorian novel without any punctuation or capitalization. Oh, getting bored, was she? Something about this girl irritated her immensely. She frowned deeply, narrowing her usually gleaming eyes. "Then maybe ye should sit back down and practice how to tie yer shoes," she grumbled, "Have ye seen the ship? She'll be purring like a kitten when we get the orders ta leave. Till then, hands to yerself. I donna want no one breakin' my beauty before she even gets up in the sky!"

Right and proper irritating, this one. No she didn't like the mechanic at all. She made no sense and acted as if someone had laced her crazy pills with three shots of expresso. "Ye canna fix what's not broken," she bit out, before turning to look at the Mountain Lion himself, "But I hope we are gonna get it started soon? Longer we have this tea party, longer it'll be for us to get to where we need'ta be goin'."

Tears of Ameratsu [Feudal Fantasy Japan] [Seven Samurai/Lord of The Rings inspired]

@ReaptheMusic I would love to continue RPing with you!

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

I shall post after @A Tattooed Girl posts ~

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

Poetry Bluebell Carolina Sundance

Never Be Like You feat. Kai by Flume

Dᴀᴛᴇ: Sᴇᴘᴛᴍʙᴇʀ, Fʀɪᴅᴀʏ 11ᴛʜ.
Lᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Eɴᴅ ᴏғ Dᴀʏ, Hᴏᴍᴇʀᴏᴏᴍ.
Iɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs: Mentions [several] and interactions with @King Tai @A Tattooed Girl
@smarty0114

Poetry had been singing softly to herself in whispers, begging Time to move faster. It was becoming a bit of a habit to do that here in school. But then again, she didn't do it because of classes. She did it because of her own actions had most likely killed any potential chance at gaining close friends and she couldn't bare the shame.

Her loose silver-gold hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. In her pale blues, her cheeks only just barely hinting at the warmth beneath the soft skin, the girl not only appeared a ghost... It seemed she was treated as one too. But that was probably her fault too, considering how withdrawn she had been lately. Eyes glazing over, as if sitting for so long was starting to ice her over both outside and in, Poetry practically jumped out of her skin when she felt something hop right onto her lap.

A crumpled piece of paper. Her surprise turned to confusion as she looked up and around. Ezera was looking at her, almost signaling for her to read whatever the crumpled message contained. Dread slid like oil through her veins. Oh trip-tailin' cyclone, there was no way this could be good. What would it be then? An apologetic explanation of how he didn't ever want to talk to her or have her talk to his girlfriend ever again? Or maybe he was good at acting and his anger had reached the tipping point and it would be full on threats?

This is why aggression never paid off. Wilting like a dying flower in vase, she slowly, listless undid the crumpled paper, remembering the lesson the teacher had given on their first day. 'Some things can't be undone...' B*tchin... Her social life was dead it couldn't even come back as a zombie...

But there was no venom hidden on the paper. And as she read the little letter, life seemed to flow back to her cheeks, her back straightening a bit more, her shoulders not shrinking so much like a whipped dog's tail. So he and Amelia weren't mad at her any more? They were going to forgive her? She looked up at Ezera with shining clear-water eyes. A smile split over her face. Bobbing her head, as if to tell him she was alright, she pressed the paper in between her books.

Running her finger through her hair, patting her cheeks till blood rushed back into them, making them bloom just a bit more. She stood, shedding her oversized white sweater. A deep purple tee-shirt with orange and blue mosaic designs revealed her zest was back. A true hippie-chic shirt for a revitalized sensitive. Standing straight, she lifted her arms above her head, stretching out her arms. The willowy fae grinned even though her pale belly showed a bit, and her eyes went over to Quinten and Lily. How unfortunate for them. They'd have a fully charged Poetry Bluebell Carolina Sundance to deal with.

Picking up a few things from her bag, she handed a stapled five page outline to Ezera. Then she moved through the desks over to the small group of popular people. Each step she took was like a step on across air, and she slipped through each small gap with a dancer-like grace that mimicked pure ballet. Standing in front of them finally, she grinned her full hundred-watt sunflower smile.

"Get trippin' and set your eyes on something I drew~" she practically sang in her airy light melody, "Group Five, get hip to this jive~ On this project you'd think you flew~ Keep up with me and maybe you're grades will stay alive~" She giggled jovial music that bubbled up and spilled over her lips.

"Catch it," she practically snapped to attention, though her lips were still tilted in an amused grin, "I already pulled books from the library on two of the most slammin' lava-shooters." She handed copies of her outlined research to Quinten and then placed one by Jacob and Lily. Oh and of course she gave one to Nathaniel and Nicoletta too, but she was more concerned with the cool kids understanding the task master they were grouped up with.

"Pompeii or Mt. Fuji," she grinned brightly, "Both are listed, twisted, and totally rung out of all the info available in our library in the outline I drew up." She put a hand on her hip and held up her copy. "History is somethin' pretty ace wit' me, so I got my wheels spinnin' on day two~ Anyway, it's not like I had much to do~"

She tipped her head to the side, beaming cheerfully, though her pale eyes seemed to gleam with a challenge at Jacob's friend with the guitar, since she all but assumed he'd be the weak link in the group. Populars always had stuff going on, so they were the hardest to work with, but if he made at least a small effort, she'd be down to help him out.

Oberon Demetrius Grimbald

Drowning feat Badbadnotgood by Mick Jenkins

Lᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Homeroom
Iɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs: His group

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed. Of course she'd see him as the villain. His tone hadn't helped any. But this whole situation of having to work in a group had him on edge. If any of them slipped up on their responsibilities and the entire group go a low grade... Well, maybe most parents got mad and yelled, but his... 'guardians' were less conventional. And he had the bruised ribs and fresh itching tattoo to prove it.

The newest addition to the gallery of ugly on his skin was at his neck this time. Pulling on his collar, he tried hard not to itch the damned thing, but it was proving difficult, now in a conflict with their grade's Boxing Aphrodite. His uncomfortable situation was pressing down on his stony features, making him subconsciously glare down his nose at her.

"I apologize deeply if I offended you tender sensibilities, miss, but I am... itching to be done with this entire experience," he looked away from her, trying to keep the edge from his quiet, deep, rolling voice. He rather failed, though he kept his glare from hitting her. He tugged on his collar some more. His uninterested and almost completely bored glower hit Jacob instead. But Aria was demanding his attention it seemed, and from his rather unconsciously rude introduction, he deserved her narrowed eyes.

"And I fear my mannerisms are due to being most unenthused at dealing with..." he held his tongue, eyes coldly sliding over to Jacob before letting a sigh slip from his mouth, "Well." And his stoneset features held their usual cold and somber expression once more. Should he get lower than a C on this project because of that... hollow log, he'd have to exact revenge for any torment he got at home. And revenge took so much energy and time...

"We were never going to work as a well oiled machine, miss," he ran a hand through his hair once more, his cynical gaze hitting the floor by her feet, "As you can already tell, I am not well received by other and enjoy working alone." His gaze softened with something a kin to gentle pity as it fell on Clyde.

"I merely do not wish to spend a large portion of time in this... crowd," he ran that hand over his face, before adding a deep mumble, "It's exhausting..." He let the hand fall to his side, the other hand deep in his pocket. He stayed quiet for a moment when she suggested he smile. The victorian goth gazed at her unblinking for a moment longer.

"Smiling is something to do when you are happy from the bottom of your heart, is it not?" he asked quietly, "Well... If it is... I doubt I'll smile till the day I graduate."

Clyde asked if they had any ideas about the project and his gaze softened with something a kin to kindness towards the tragic boy. He knew how much trouble the other had with speaking aloud. Much less around the girl he liked. His dead gaze returned to said girl.

"Any ideas, hm? Well, I can do the mathematical calculations for dimension and supplies to be used. Construction shall have to be someone else's job however... The project would doubtless be reduced to utter destruction at my.. 'house'. Any writing I can do as well. Tell me, miss, are you willing to protect our little science project at your place? I hear you are good at that sort of thing."

@alexfangtalon Derek had dropped a paper on Clyde's desk, so Oberon engaged the disgusted Aria with his little facts and inquiries. It made him shift uncomfortably, getting so close to talking about his 'home' to strangers such as this. He didn't like it, but Derek was one of those few people who's secrets Oberon actually tried to guard. The guy could get deep and he respected anyone willing to plunge within themselves to seek and purge out their more genuine and undiluted feelings.

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

@A Tattooed Girl Thank you so much for adding him in! I am so sorry for pushing you to change your post! I really do appreciate it though. I wouldn't have had much to react to without it ^.^"

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

@A Tattooed Girl Oh thank you! I'm sorry! And I completely understand! I've done that too!

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

*nervous sweats* er, pardon pardon @A Tattooed Girl Oberon interacted with Aria