Post by :; Keira on Jun 8, 2009 9:42:48 GMT -5
call me Keira !!
Name:
Keira (Ke-ah-rah)
Race:
Drow/Elf
Gender:
Female
Age:
120
World of origin:
Daevir
Allegiance:
She works for herself
Description:
Drow
Skin Color: Navy
Hair Color: Deep Blue
Eye Color: Black
Apparel: Refer to pic yeh?
As a drow in Daevir, Keira is very tall and attractive. Her skin is a deep navy in color, her hair an even deeper shade of blue. The length of her tresses is her pride, for they easily pass the small of her back and are beautiful in any situation. Other than her hair, she does stick to her traditions, and has numerous tribal tattooes all over her body.
Elf
Skin Color: Pale
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Blue
Apparel: Refer to pic yeh?
Skills/Weapons:
NICHOLAI:; Keira has many tricks up her sleeves of course, but her most prized weapon would have to be her shifter bow. The weapon holds the soul of her half-brother, and because of this, it is able to manipulate the shapes and movements of the arrows. These arrows can be shot and then formed into creatures, but as soon as the magic wears off, the arrow returns to its normal shape. Nicholai is good with both long and short distance attacks.
MAGIC:; Being a drow, Keira has been gifted with dark magic. Her skills are novice, but she is able to use basic attacks and break basic barriers. Although she isn't the best magician out there, it is a good asset to possess.
POISON DAGGER:; The mini blades of terror is what Keira likes to call them. These daggers are packed with toxins that could kill any thing that comes in contact with it. A seventy percent chance in death, Keira only takes these things out if there is a true threat. The blade is decorated to look like a plain kitchen knife, giving the victim the wrong idea. The poison lurks inside the metal, which is also a big advantage for Keira. These are only found in Keira's sheath, she made them herself.
Personality:
Keira is aggressive, cruel, and defensive. She is very independent and despises those of her race. The drow never takes no for an answer, and if she doesn’t like the way something is done, she will instantly change it for herself. She has little to no respect for anybody, and is rude and merciless to those who get in her way. Keira has a hard time opening up to anybody, and usually stands her ground when someone tries to pry. She is very skilled when it comes to defensive magic, and knows full well how to deflect mind readers. Keira loves a good fight, but will only oppose the opponent by herself, teamwork really isn’t her thing, save for Nicholai. Although Keira is hard to read, she can be open when she wants to be. She knows how to get what she wants. But other than that, she is very mysterious and deceitful.
History:
A woman, that was her first memory. A pale woman with lovely blonde hair and pointed ears, who cradled her with compassion as a black man stood draped over her. Her body was in a fragile state, but her lips were upturned as she stroked the baby Keira’s face. The man had tears in his eyes as his hand tightened around the woman’s shoulder, but the older elf brushed him off as she coughed, a strange red liquid seeping from her lips. A sob escaped the man’s open mouth as his arms wrapped around her, and her head fell into his bare chest as she held the baby girl, the infant’s black skin meaning she would be accepted, yes, she would be accepted here, unlike she herself had been. She took in a shaky breath, hugging the tiny child close to her, and then went silent, her body propped up on the dark man’s. The drow continued to sob visibly over her body, his arms keeping her and the child ever closer…
Keira’s upbringing was rather different then most of her species. For one, her father, the chief of a well-known tribe, had been secretly seeing an elf from the light realm. One night of passion went too far, and the woman was cursed with bearing the man’s child. The drow was devastated when this occurred, but promised to keep this hidden from his tribesmen. He was confident that he would have to kill the child within his forbidden lover, for he was afraid the baby would not only be a halfblood, but possess a pale complexion, one that instantly marked what it was. Keira’s mother was the only one who kept him sane, and assured him that their child would fit in perfectly with his tribe, she even began planning for her unborn babies future while the chief cradled her in his arms. The man was reluctant about this, but did as she wished, and allowed the being within her to make her lovely body swell until it was hard for her to keep up with hiding.
It was a sad day when the drows of the Chief’s tribe found her. They instantly attacked her, cutting off any way she had for survival, and leaving the woman panting in agony in the guilty drow’s arms. She begged for him to save the child, and he could not refuse. He cut her open, ignoring her muffled screams, and took the baby from within her, allowing her to cradle it in her last moments as he watched on in pain at what he had done. The new mother played with her child some more, before falling into what he knew to be death, and allowed the baby to take the last of her warmth.
After hours of sitting there like that, the male drow picked up the tiny child, and named her after her mother. Keira, or “Honorable Light” , returned to the tribe in her father’s arms, the tribesmen thinking nothing of it of course. No one was to meddle in the Chief’s business, and they merely thought that she was his daughter, and that was that.
Keira was raised as the princess to the high tribe, and she never thought herself of being lower than that. She made friends with people she wanted to be friends with, she trampled on those who did not respect her, and she practiced her skills with only the best. Her father loved her dearly, but as she grew, somehow, his depression heightened. Keira tried to reason with him, but by the time she was mature, it was too late for him. The drow died an isolated death, his new wife pregnant with his new child. Keira wept over his body, and loathed the fact that the council had chosen her father’s advisor to do the job, and she was betrothed to him. The marriage would take place in ten years of course, for drows had unbelievable life spans, but she still hated her fate. Her father’s old wife took pity on her, and took her in with her new son in her arms. Nicholai was merely an infant then, but as the years passed, he and Keira became the truest of friends. He had a kind heart towards her, and the siblings enjoyed every moment spent with each other.
Then, one fateful day, Nicholai was found practicing forbidden magic without any reason to, and the drows sentenced him to death. They stoned him, and left him struggling on the ground where Keira managed to find him. She wept over him as well, but Nicholai told her not to fret. He asked for her bow, her prized weapon, and as soon as the two came in contact, the boy’s very essence entered it with the use of the convicted magic. Surprised, Keira dropped the bow and stepped back, struggling to keep herself stable. The bow was now entwined with golden strings, and the handle was crested in silver. It was remarkable, and as soon as she picked it up, Nicholai was present in her head.
The two were planning to leave the tribe, but first, Keira aimed to perfect her skill with Nicholai, and once this was complete, the two set off, betraying the tribe and becoming wanted refugees for good. One night, Keira was caught between the rift, and entered the light world as an elf. Surprised, she looked over herself shocked. The gift her mother gave her, was protection and deceit for both worlds.
RP Sample:
Her stature was somewhat composed as she stumbled through the crowd, but every time she made a false mood and stumbled over a foot or piece of trash, a look of surprise would flash across her face before she could compose herself again. A long slur of sorrys, are you oks, and I’ll look next times came from her mouth as she continued in this somewhat predictable pattern. It was some sort of miracle that she had not lost anything that was hiding in her jean pockets as she danced broken circles around pedestrians. She had taken on crowds like these before, but the last time she had attempted to do so, she had ended up bruising both of her shins. Still, she had managed to last through the past few days without gaining a new scab to her collection, and she hoped to continue this streak. It wasn’t looking to good though, for a tiny slit on her knee had proclaimed its presence by spilling a flowing stream of crimson blood down her leg. As soon as she had noticed this little cut, she sighed a usual sigh and through her back upon a grimy wall before rummaging through her bag for a napkin.
"Stupid blood. Always making a mess…” She grumbled as she dabbed at the little red river with a dirty napkin that happened to be sitting between her phone and wallet. As soon as she had calmed the flow, she placed the napkin back in her bag with a casual glance towards the merchants that lined the streets, desperately attempting to sell their wares. She vowed to properly dispose of the napkin as soon as she got home, but for now, she would have to wait.
This street had to be her favorite out of all the streets in all of Brooklyn. Budding artists presented their masterpieces to the citizens of New York in hopes of earning a name for themselves, which was rather inspiring. Plus, the unique moldings, sculptures and paintings were certainly a sight. She always came this way on the weekends with a full wallet in case she saw something that met her appeal. Today was no different, her eyes always found a new sight to gaze upon in wonder, smiling at the detail that was put into the piece. She would only stop her viewing if she was pestered to buy it. It was rare for her to spend her money on things such as these, but when she did, the piece usually always found itself upon her wall in her tiny apartment.
As she traveled the boulevard, she watched as numerous people with unique characteristics passed her by, eyeing her purse that was slung safely on her shoulders. Her fists clenched as she bravely strode to the next stand, trying to ignore the glares she was receiving by the tattoo artist that was sizing her up the next stand over. She returned the glare with one of her own, but she saw that it had little affect, for all the man did was smirk at her before he continued with his work. Sighing, she pivoted to the side and stomped off, her mood dimming as she continued on. The threat of getting her cash taken was something she had to face day after day, and at first it ticked her off. The men who had taken her purse were surprised to know that she had speed within her bones, speed that was somewhat unmatched by other girls her age. Dot had then begun to get used to it after the third time it had happened, and now carried a loaded pepper spray in her bag, just in case someone was willing to strike her a fourth time… Dot looked up with a bored look and sighed as she pressed the button to cross the busy street. “Hurry up stupid thing…”