' At the peak of a high mountain, where the ice never melts and the snow is ever-falling, lay the remnants of an ancient civilization. Ruins of a kingdom that had existed before the Black Plague and was once revered throughout the land. Here lived a peculiar creature. One that fed on darkness; the blood of evil beings. The Black Angel. They say she was once the princess of the Old Kingdom, cursed by the gods to wander the grounds of her people until the end of time. Whether the story is true remains a mystery. Word has it that she has found a new home, but who can say for sure? You may wander the forlorn mountain one night and find the Black Angel waiting.
Will you seek her out?
Her full name is, currently, unknown to anyone but herself. Most simply referred to her as the 'Black Angel', while her friends call her Kiara. She's been around for a very long time and, on the 6th of September, will have been alive for six hundred and eighty years. However, she appears in her late teens to early twenties. Her real age is given whenever asked.
Kiaravell is much more petite than most notice, due to her large wings giving off an illusion of height. In reality, she's a mere 5ft. She has porcelain skin that is rendered nearly translucent under moonlight, a stark contrast to her raven hair. Her eyes have cerulean irises with scleras that are dark blue instead of white. She sometimes hides the latter (making her scleras look white) to appear less odd.
She has a soft spot for young children and fur-covered creatures, affectionately naming the latter her 'fluffies'. She is immune to poisons, but there is a way to poison her. She is unwilling to make friends and expand her circle, but cares deeply for those already in it. Another fact about her is her photographic memory; she doesn't forget. A useful gift and a terrible curse.
⊹ BEHIND THE CHARACTER
Hello there, it's the puppetmaster speaking. My real name is often butchered by people everywhere, so just calling me Kiara is fine. As of the sixth of September, I am now eighteen. I love writing and have aspired to be an author since the tender age of ten. I also have a big, fluffy cat. More gaia-related, I'm a laidback person who enjoys roleplaying, whether it be in guilds, forums or towns. That being said, I despise god-modding and combat. Don't expect my character to interact with yours if the latter keeps trying to make her look like a weakling. She wasn't created to stroke your ego. Just because I hate your character, though, does not mean I hate the person behind it. We are not our puppets. I think many forget that. That's all for now, hope you've enjoyed the profile!
Answer correctly and the Black Angel may grant thee a boon;
Brightest in darkness, Swaying in subtleness, Raging in mutedness. A shadow it does not possess; Of that trait we are in likeness.
What is it?
May 26th, 2016.
It was a raven that woke her. A beautiful one. It landed atop a boulder not too far from the spot she'd remained unmoving from for the past sixty days. she stared at it. It seemingly stared back before letting out a caw that echoed throughout the mountain. And then, as swiftly as it came, it left. Kiaravell watched it go, something tugging at her heart.
She rose up shakily, willing her feet to bring her to the edge. From there, she could already see it. The place she'd left without so much as a word to anyone. Memories flooded her then; of snarky demons, wayward swordsmen, and troublesome ex-mercenaries. Of cigarette smoke and burnt eggs. Of a beautiful fountain sat amongst shady trees, where friends of all shapes and sizes often gathered.
Kiaravell looked down at her arms, both of which were covered in bite marks- her own. It was how she'd managed to stay alive without feeding for so long. Shame filled her. She cursed her weakness; for having let this drive her to the breaking point- to the edge of sanity. For making her believe that she had nothing left. She did.
And so, after wrapping her arms with black bandages in an effort to hide any traces of what she'd done to herself, Kiaravell erected a small monument in memory of her people. There, she left a single black feather. This would always be her birthplace, that she knew. But it did not necessarily have to be her home. Kiaravell turned to the direction the raven had flown, just as the first rays of sun graced the earth.
The Black Angel returns.
• • •
March 23rd, 2016.
The Black Angel's illusion is shattered. For the past couple of months, Kiaravell has been returning to what she thought was her former home; the kingdom of Impiria. It looked every bit as pristine as she remembered. She was told that she'd cursed them by abandoning her duty to to the kingdom. That it was the reason why time passed by and not a single one of them had aged. She believed it. No matter how painful it was or how difficult it would be to revert back to her old life, Kiaravell was willing to do it. It was far better than being alone.
But it was all a lie. One day, when the Black Angel returned to her so-called kingdom, she saw only a desolate mountain full of ruins. Reality. Of course, she didn't realise it immediately. No, it took hours for the truth to sink in and when it did, the Black Angel wept for hours more. She tried to deny it, thinking of how painful it had been when she was whipped for her crimes. But there were no marks on her back. Not one. Her kingdom was a thing of the past; gone. It was what she, too, believed before having been tricked by such a cruel illusion. Once the tears had dried, all she could think was; Who?