Post by MACHOmalli on May 25, 2008 9:14:30 GMT -5
n a m e ;
Delilah Anthon
a g e ;
Eighteen
d a t e o f b i r t h ;
July 14
h o m e l a n d s ;
Mountains of Gumar
r a c e ;
Half-Elf
Half-Angel
c l a s s ;
Seer
f i n a l ;
memory inflict
Sometimes, when gathering scenes from an object's past, one comes across terrifying and gruesome memories not wanted to be dug up again. And once that image has been discovered, the mere startling memory of the horrible scene would never be forgotten in one's mind. But when it comes necessary, wouldn't the memory serve well to be taken out of your own mind and moved into your enemy's? Which is exactly what Delilah can produce. After stirring up a memory she doesn't want to keep, she can take the scene and move it to her opponent's mind, where it immediately puts them into a trance-like state until they have witnessed the entire scene, giving her time to attack. In turn, the memory will never be given back to her, but will linger in the opponent's mind.
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w e a p o n ;
Voyant la Dérive - The Seer's Dagger
This small dagger is the only protection of Delilah's, and was given to her by her father as a parting present, for both new that it would be long before they saw each other again, once she left for Twilight Moon. It is just larger than her hand, with a dark brown hilt for her small fingers to grip on. The pommel, made of see-through amber, has long, flowing, bright ribbons and feathers hardened into the end, allowing the decor to hang from the tip and brighten up the tool meant for evil-doing. The blade is mainly a silver color, but hidden within the sliver are little streams of different colors, glinting brightly when hit just right with a ray of sunlight.
To preserve the ribbons and feathers on the tip, a preservation spell was placed on them: They will never wear away, and will always stay as bright, solid, and decorative as they were when they first began to harden within the amber.
a r m o u r ;
Lumière Manteau - Light Cloak
The thin, snow-white material which seems as though it could stand up to nothing, is the one source of Delilah's self-protection. The item she purchased from a traveling trader has always been very special to her, as she worked hard to trade it all by herself as a little girl, and after three years finally made enough to trade for the cloak. It's soft, silky feel is welcoming when wrapped around, not terribly stiffening in the summer months but providing an extra layer in winter. Light rabbit fur edges the brim of the hood, for decoration and warmth in the cold seasons. As of to this day, the silk cloak reaches down to her ankles, and at the bottom small, silver threading is intricately woven into a design hardly visible, but adding a delicate touch to the item.
How this item survives the wear-and-tear is far from a mystery; Much like her dagger, a preservation spell coats the cloak to prevent the delicate silk from tearing on a simple twig. However, this guard does not stand up to any damage in battle, unless used in the purpose they were meant for: Shielding her wings. The cloak, when placed over her wingspan (for it is plenty wide enough to do so), will triple in thickness, and practically harden onto her wings without damaging them. This provides protection when she needs it, to shield her precious angel wings. The armour, though definitely present with its weight when hardened, doesn't weigh terribly much.
a c c e s s o r y ;
Night Feather
Within the depths of the thick, white feathers of Delilah's wings lies one lone black feather, of which she has found always grows back, even if plucked, always just as dark and full. The dark blotch within the stunning white is terribly obvious, and she has never understood why the black feather lives amongst the white.
Though Delilah has not realized it yet, the black feather actually serves its purpose in balancing her whole stance as part elf and part angel. Without the feather, the two conflicting sides within her actually combine too harshly, and unless the black feather quenched the fire burning within her between the two, her physical health would be a mess. In short, it keeps her body accustomed to being the race mix that she is, even though it doesn't want to be.
p h y s i c a l ;
Following the major angelic custom, Delilah has let her hair grow freely since birth. The golden with a slight hue of red locks naturally became a beauty of their own. For some odd reason, her bangs never exactly grew. Instead they hang above her eyes, taking eternity to grow out so she might part them behind her ears. Taking consideration of her racial cultures, even when angels have been known to let their hair grow and let it be without styling it, sometimes her elven customs take over as well, and she may string ribbons into her hair, or design it in odd fashions.
Like many angels, Delilah is cursed with blue eyes, though not the same icy blue as many pure angels are granted with. Hers have become more of a teal instead, mixing in with the elven traits she was granted. Thick, long eyelashes often make it appear as though she wore human makeup, but her natural complexion is far from that. Thin, blond-red eyebrows rest just above the sea-green eyes, long and often aiding in expression.
Most evidently, wings protrude from Delilah's back, once more showing her more dominant angelic race. Her hair and eyes, as previously mentioned, also contribute to her angel blood. Her sharp, scrawny outline is merged lightly with angelic complexion, stirring up a combination between the elf's sharp features and the angel's smooth, commonly 'perfect' skin. And the most evident trait of her elven blood: Obviously her pointed ears, small and laid against her head.
As stated, the figure of Delilah is rather hard to describe. Her legs are long, her stature thin, but when it comes to the debate of 'sharp' features and 'delicate, rounded' features, there is a strange mix of the two. Her face is most obviously elven, despite the eyes, with a sharp, pointed chin, and obvious, high cheekbones. Her shoulders follow suit, along with hips and knees; all her other joints are oddly rounded out, contrasting with the points and ferocity of her elven traits. If without wings and her ears, one human might mistake the angel-elf girl as a very young human, though she is but 18. Her short stance often gives the image of one very young, but her knowledge keeps up for her size.
Most often one might find Delilah in a white, flowing dress, from strapless to long-sleeved depending on the weather. Most commonly they are of a silky texture, or some other comforting, light material. Of course she hardly ever goes anywhere without Lumière Manteau tied around her neck, ready for anything to happen. Her feet are often simply barefooted, for she doesn't care to walk around in shoes but rather let the air rush between her toes.
b a c k g r o u n d ;
Plie never saw a reason as to why not. Ambur didn't see a problem with it. The two young, confused adults of different species hadn't learned anything about intermixing with other races. To them there wasn't a problem.
A few glasses of ale after a long party, and what little sense they had was gone, both drunk and dazed. Even if they had known anything on how their races were strongly against breeding with other cultures, they wouldn't have remembered the facts, so strangled their minds were from the celebration and the lovely elven ale.
The two never saw what trouble they were stirring wandering away from that party on the crisp, summer night.
x
It took only a few months for Ambur to realize what had happened, as her stomach slowly began to bulge. She could hardly even remember the night, but knew the friend she had wandered away with: Plie. A Light Elf. Another race.
And she. Ambur. An Angel.
She soon realized what she had done, and how terrible this would look on her. She was an angel. A rare race to come across. And here she was, blowing herself away from any high stature she'd ever had, by simply letting herself wander away from a party. Shame would be cast upon her by anyone who might have found out.
Months passed, and she'd seen Plie a few times. They'd talked once, and apologies were all that spilled from the Elf's lips, until Ambur finally broke in. The baby was discussed, what they were going to do. And whether or not to leave their cities.
There was hardly a doubt that the shame would be terrible on Ambur, and she would most likely be cast out from the small city of the rare angels she'd grown up in. But as for Plie, no one knew of his interference with the angel, but he still owed Ambur quite a bit of his help with the child.
And so they decided, one month before the birth, so as not to take any chances, to leave their cities and head for the Mountains of Gumar, a territory open to rouges and one looking for time alone, owned by no city or town in particular. They'd have to raise the child there, for no doubt was the child going to be denied living amongst the angels, mutated with other blood as she was, and Ambur couldn't bear to leave Plie to care for the child all on his own at his city.
The time came to move, and the day of the birth drew closer and closer. After long days of traveling and escaping unnoticed except for a note left back to simply state they had left, they'd arrived at the mountains. They would've begun the climb, but any day now the child would find it a suitable time to reveal itself to the world. So instead they made camp at the base of the mountain, and presumed to live there long after the baby's birth, in fear of the altitude harming her developing lungs. Indeed, the baby was a girl, and evidently a cross between elf and angel. The world had finally seen its glimpse of Delilah.
Her ears were obviously pointed, and little white stubs on her back were evidently wings. The teal eyes were something neither could make out, for they fell into neither race's traits. Despite the fact that they had merged two races together when they shouldn't have, they treated their daughter as a thing of beauty and a pure miracle.
The years passed by in Gumar slowly, but exceedingly fast at the same time. One minute her silent, curious eyes were all that spoke for her, and the next her mouth had begun to form words and put them to use. Anyone who might have stumbled upon the odd three might take a moment to linger, and puzzle over the baby as if wondering how origins could mix to form this contrasting racial figure.
By two, flying by any human's time, Delilah was able to mesh words into small sentences, and communicate to her young parents. Her growing teeth ached, her extending wings were much too large for her own body weight, but she never once complained or cried throughout her babyhood. The quiet child didn't talk much, even when she learned correctly. Her parents fretted constantly over whether or not this was healthy for her, though she truly was perfectly fine.
As she grew older and morphed into a playful child, Delilah finally began talking more often than not, and became very social to her parents. She saw them as her friends, for she met no one else except for travelers who happened to pass them by, maybe exchanging a word or two, but then they were all much older than herself. The angel-elf grew up figuring that this was how all lived, either with their family or as travelers. She had no idea was a city was, what other species she should've come across at her age were. What a difference it would make if she had friends her age.
Ambur knew it must be terrible to grow up so buried from civilization, but she couldn't bear to bring her into a social life, and deal with the consequences of her mixed race. She herself, however, couldn't teach the girl, for she had hardly attended school herself, her mother having taught her, but she couldn't phrase her mother's words right for her own child to understand, without hardly ever getting a chance to experience half the things she should have.
Years passed, and as Delilah grew to become very mature, she grew increasingly lonely. The inexperienced parents, commited to eachother despite their differences, had made a terrible decision by bringing the girl to live in the mountains in the first place; Her life so anti-social as it was, was bound to lead to problems in the future if they ever left their 'home.'
As another winter dawned quickly upon them, Plie and Ambur made the decision that finally brought them out of hiding: They would return to their homes. So be it if they wouldn't accept them back, they would move on to other cities where they could be granted a place to live. But, for the sake of their daughter, they couldn't just let her be as she was, secluded from the rest of life and lacking in simple knowledge she should've mastered by then, at age ten.
The long journey through the cold autumn days seemed to take much longer returning then striving toward your destination in the first place, for a mainly of two reasons. Most evidently, the constantly exhausted and confused Delilah, who thought they were just becoming a 'traveler,' as she had seen many times, was repeatedly urging them to stop, or carry her along. But hidden within the hearts of the two odd parents, they were nervous to return home.
Then came the fateful day, at the part in the path of the forest. The day had finally arrived. When Plie and Ambur would have to split up. They'd debated on this secretly for quite some time, away from Delilah's listening ears. And at the part, a confused Delilah became even more baffled as her mother went off one way, she herself in the hands of her father going the other. In seconds tears streamed down each of their cheeks as, one step at a time, they grew farther and farther away. Soon nothing stopped the angel-elf, her desperate plee for her mother screaming through the forest, kicking and yelling and choking on her own tears in her father's arms.
It was a terrible sight to come across, and the tears of pain, mentally and physically, of seperating his daughter from her mother, streamed from his own eyes as well. It was evident from the look on their faces that this was not some sort of kidnapping, but a dreadful decision parents had to make despite themselves.
Hours passed until Delilah finally calmed down, and when she did, Plie finally set her down and began into why it must be him to go with, and not her mother. He explained of the disgrace Ambur was all ready buried in, and how she couldn't possibly bring her daughter, which had been the very beginning of her problems, along with her. She had to go alone, and would be having a hard enough time explaining herself without struggling with a child whom would be looked upon with the utmost disgrace, even when it wasn't her own fault.
He mentioned that her mother would not be hurt or wounded in any way, for angels were not the kind to do so, but would rather face many a hard time letting herself think of what she'd done, and many reconciliations were bound to be assigned to her. So instead, he would be taking her to live with him, where hopefully his city, much larger and much less strict, would accept her despite her origins.
x
seven years later
Delilah fit right into the city, amazingly, and despite her wings, no one paid much attention to her as a queer figure, but rather as an interesting, loyal friend whom they could trust and confide in. Even without the years of schooling she missed, she caught up quickly and soon was even excelling many of the other students.
She became quite a young lady, and learned to merge her two cultures together in memory of her mother, whom she'd never seen since the part in the road. Delilah was quite the combination, and against all odds fit in wonderfully.
Life was good for her. Until the startling news came from her principal.
Mr. Plie Anthon:
We have come to conclude that your daughter, Delilah Anthon, highly exeeds the standards for our school. We are sorry to say that we cannot quite cope with her intelligence level. However, we are sending you this letter for a pamphlet is enclosed, on information on a school we would much more highly reccomend for Delilah. Twilight Moon Academy, I assure you, will highly suit her needs.
In just months it was decided that she was off to Twilight Moon, and taken out of her school. Departure was hard, but parting gifts from her father gave Delilah memories that she could hold onto of him forever, before she left for a term at her new school.
