Z'le, Anemone [WIP]

[Flip]

 Z'le, Anemone 
( Uh - Nem - Uh - Nee, | Zell )

» Free bird, please tell me why you have chosen to stay ;

GENDER: Female

AGE: 2 Sagitta Rau Orbits (7 Earth/Human Years)

SPECIES: Dasyati

HOMEWORLD: Thirope

AFFILIATION/JOB: Survival

APPEARANCE:

Anemone, despite being of young age, already bears her fair share of the scars and blemishes that are impossible for Dasyati to avoid. Really, their buttery skin is only virgin of marks and scratches for a week or two. It feels like a pebble washed up from the ocean that's been smoothed over from tagging between waves.  Anem's skin is a slightly lighter shade of grey than most of her species are known to have.

The most recognizable score Anemone has reaches from her right temple, extending laterally across her right eye and over the bridge of her nose. The eye affected by the encounter isn't totally functional, but her left eye makes up for it with exceptional vision capable of seeing details like every ant on any leaf. The abrasion was the result of a brash episode with a Thiropian animal that has a feline-like body equipped with a set of buck-like antlers. These antlers could sever elephant skin, so at a disadvantage from the start, it was the one impact that really tore Anemone up.

All of the other marks peppered around her body, her shoulders and hands being hot spots, are due to rough and rocky ocean turf that the Dasyati swim in.

Anemone's eyes are both different colors. Her left iris is a thin ring of murky cadet blue, whereas her right is the purest of whites, like a swan's feather. Her thin, defined lips are a rich and deep plum that contrast against her silvery skin.

Several stripes of surging, glowing energy trace her forehead. They act as transportation tunnels, like blood veins and arteries do in human beings, delivering energy to her whole body. Though very visible and giving off the impression that they're close to the epidermis, they're buried under protective tissue so that tears and rips in the skin will not interfere with internal functions. They comb over her head and trace down her spine, splitting at her legs and curving under her heel to end at her toes.

Her cheeks are covered in scales that are otherwise invisible, excepting when direct sunlight reflects and beams off of them. Where on a human one would have dimples, Dasyati have a pair of gills. They also, however, have another set on the base of their necks so that they can adapt to living and breathing in any condition of water.

In her earlobes is a pair of thick gauges, pierced for cultural reasons. Made from a mineral rock similar to obsidian, they're about three quarters of an inch in diameter. Her father had made that pair for her, and she hasn't dared take them out once in her entire life. In addition to the ear piercing, a small sprig of clean crystal pierces her left nostril. A lizard engraving in ivory is secured to the tail of her braid, serving as yet another totem from her father.

Her wiry hair, a thick charcoal-colored length, is usually kept in an elaborate braid for convenience. Dasyati hair is a strange thing. Awhile ago, it was a development in the species as they slowly began to spend more time on land, but it was made with an indescribable texture for no interruption in swimming. The water sort of has friction with Dasyati hair, so rather than billowing up in front of their faces, it stays back to optimize aquatic mobility. 

Standing only at about a few inches under the three foot mark, Anemone definitely still has some growing to do. But even once she will be done growing, she won't size up much, at a maximum height of four feet. Her frame was thin, but has developed enough muscle to keep her alive on her own adolescence.

The cartilaginous spine-like protrusions sweeping off of her arms and legs are notorious for getting caught on vines, seaweed, etc. However, they do come to their uses. Dasyati often carve arrow-tops to place onto the tips of these, so they could be turned into defense mechanisms.

Of her three fingers, the one naturally intended to be used as a weapon - the sickle-shaped mid finger - never really is. Anemone, close to nature, disbelieves in killing anything that she need not. However, she also realizes that she'll need to consume meat to survive. She goes about hunting in the most respectful and humble manner possible, makes sure none of the animal goes to waste, and thanks the universe for the gift.

» If I had a feather every time daddy said I could fly away ;

PERSONALITY:   

Logistic

The Dasyati are an intellectual race in general, but Anemone is brighter than the sun. She hasn't just got book-smarts, though. She's got street-smarts, common sense, and wisdom. This comes as a surprise to most because she's so young, but people quickly learn that she can't be outsmarted. She's a rapid problem-solver and has the ability to think on her feet, which is vital for her lonesome state of being while trying to survive in the unforgiving Thiropian wild. Anemone knows to think twice about what she's going to say or do. When there are a few ways to handle a situation, her knowledge combined with Dasyati power enables her to run through the results of each and pick the best one. Her transactions are usually successful, but only because she's learned from previous mistakes. She's also very good at understanding the handling of weapons because the mechanical part of her brain is strong, and that's always scared her father. SWRD knew she was valuable in that way, which made her something to chase for, if it weren't enough that they wanted her dad back.

Mousy

Virtuoso

Anemone is a musical prodigy. Part of her soul resonates inside of her instrument: a hand-made ocarina safely attached to her via necklace. It has her initials on the front, and on the back is a seashell painting. It has become distressed, faded, scratched, and aged over the years, but it works perfectly, sounding like the lungs of an angel. Anemone could use any instrument she really wanted to, but she's become close to the little material item and it's the only instrument small enough for portability. She knew how to play it without learning how to, and could create the most beautiful melodies and songs. She and her music were favorites at cultural concerts. Now, she plays it when in need of hope, or on the seldom occasion she has a moment to breathe.

Indigenous

Stubborn

Distrusting

» Can't you read the signs that a wave is about to break? ;

HISTORY:

[WIP]

» Go off to search the sky, and see just where you wake ;

RP EXAMPLE:

[The following is an rp example from an rp regarding supernatural humans.]

Well, this is it, Relic's first day on the job. In movies, everyone jumps out of bed in some sort of enthusiastic manor and skids out of the house, somehow managing to miss the bus despite having gotten up early. No one's mornings were like this, and certainly not Ms. Foster's. She tried to sleep in as long as possible, finding her bed to be like an addicting drug. Once her alarm clock screamed for the seventh time, she cut herself off of snooze opportunities and rose like a zombie from its grave. Without even getting out of bed, the phoenix reached for her pack of Marlboro's and her yellow lighter that lay on her nightstand before igniting the cancer stick and shoving it into her mouth. "Good God, I'm a glutton for a smoke." She stretched out her legs and brought them to a stance, where she toppled to the floor and ended up kissing her suede slippers. "Ow," she sighed monotonously, dragging herself up with extreme amounts of lethargy.

After getting dressed, brushing her teeth, and showering to rid herself of the tobacco's obvious stench, her feet brought her to the kitchen of her flat where she operated the cheap coffee pot and took a seat at the plastic dining table. She crossed her legs, watching the coffee bubble and brew, before running her fingers through her raggedy hair. Grabbing at the skinny, black hair-tie at her wrist, she pulled her locks into a disheveled ponytail. Then, her Russian Blue hopped up onto the table and brushed her tail by Relic's cheeks. "Good enough, Treasure?" The cat gave a haunting meow while Ms. Foster scratched the "oh-my-amazing" spot she knew Treasure had behind her ears.

After downing a mug of straight black coffee, Relic staggered into her bathroom. Cramped, but a bathroom, right? She slathered on some pale pink lip stain and then some, throwing the thing into her purse after application. Her feet slipped into a pair of black leather oxfords, though she didn't bother to tie the laces. She merely tucked them into the sides of the shoes so that she wouldn't end up pulling a faceplant reminiscent of earlier's, only at school. That would be one her students wouldn't let go of.

She emerged back into the living room, fishing around for the keys to her Jeep. The couch cushions of the love seat were hiding them, she discovered, after tearing up the room in the process. She took a glance around, checking that she had everything. Nope, not everything. She fetched a Cherry Dr. Pepper from the side cartridge of the refrigerator door and tossed it into her bag. She spotted a clipboard out of the corner of her eyes and gasped. "I almost forgot you!" She said, tucking it into her purse as well. "I'd have gotten a taste of hell if I left you," Relic commented. It was too big to fit, so it stuck out slightly. Some papers were attached to it... Important papers, by the looks of it. She'd gone through the trouble to print them on yellow stationary. Her last tool of the trade? Treasure. She swooped down and held the feline in one arm, and finally headed towards the door. She had her hands on the doorknob and started to turn it before she paused.

"Here we go, Treasure," she whispered, then proceeded to venture out of her flat and start the first day of the rest of her life.