Name: Rosel
Text Color: #465c3d
Race: Constellation
Abilities: Control over the black lightning that emanates from her body. It can be called forth even when she is unable to move. Because it is tied to her will, the power is most often also tied to her emotional state at the time.
Personality: Somewhat anti-social, Rosel speaks slightly fast, in a rather inexpressive, clipped tone. Cares very little for the well-being of others, and will only step into any kind of action should it benefit her. Has no qualms about death or killing, having killed before. Has absolutely no patience for children. She holds grudges for a very long time, to use the words of a famous gentleman, "My good favor, once lost, is lost forever."
History: (unabridged)
The only daughter of a nobleman, Rosel was betrothed to a man from a neighboring kingdom to strengthen alliance ties. She learned quickly that this new family was weak, and she easily bent the household to her will.
Unfortunately, the grandmother of the family moved in, and took away Rosel's ultimate control. Unable to combat decades of experience in controlling others, Rosel slowly lost control of the household. During a confrontation one night, her anger burst out of her in a bolt of lightning, killing the grandmother.
The feeling was so incredible, Rosel tormented the household for hours, finally slipping away when after the house had become an inferno. Escaping to Earth, where no one knew of her crime, she made her way to the Village of the Red Moon and took up a quiet, biding, residence.
Recent History: One of the four destroyers of the Village of the Red Moon, as well as responsible (in part) for the massacres at Pryial and Allestia, the biding existence she's forced to endure has her on the edge of a knife. Unable to come up with a plan for finding the last Sigils, she forces herself to stay her hand when pushed to violence. Her quick temper can no longer be backed up with sheer power, and others take their entertainment from teasing her.
Rosel's Interactions
Meeting of Seir and Aeos ~ Concluded
Second Meeting of Aeos ~ Concluded
Once Upon a Hallowed Eve ~ Concluded
Curse Me ~ Concluded
Purification in the Sigil Ruins ~ Concluded
The end of the Curse, pt. 1 ~ Concluded
Sigil Arc: That which sleeps in stone ~ In Progress
I am a killer. ~Concluded
Rosel's History
The only daughter of a nobleman, Rosel was betrothed to a man from a neighboring kingdom to strengthen alliance ties. She learned quickly that this new family was weak, and she easily bent the household to her will. Servants obeyed her every word for fear of being banished or worse, the mess of non-inheriting family members bent over backwards at her feet in the hopes of gaining favor or a small slice of the bit of countryside her new family ruled. They were all weak, and Rosel enjoyed what seemed limitless power for a time.
Things changed, however, when the grandmother of the house came to live. Though now bedridden, having ruled over the family for generations, the grandmother was not about to let Rosel take control, and the household turned into a battleground of conflicting orders and underhanded insults. What was once hardly a challenge was now a full-scale war and after only a scant year after the grandmother had moved in, Rosel realized it was a war that she could not win. Decades of experience could not be outdone by sheer creativity and Rosel avoided direct encounters with the grandmother if she could. Losses face to face were more than she, or her reputation, could bear.
Her sniveling husband could be easily controlled through anger, but the rest of the household was slowly aligning itself with the grandmother's wishes. Her insults lost their bite without the peripheral family members gossiping about them, her orders would not be obeyed by servants who had no fear of retribution that would only be taken back by the grandmother. The blood of a family was thicker than the spun gold of her wedding band, and Rosel was only a new wife who had yet to produce an heir. Not that she had ever bothered to try; her ingrate of a husband was not fit to touch her in such a way.
It happened on the most mundane of days. It was after dinner, sitting in the parlor, exchanging veiled threats as conversation. A poorly delivered insult left Rosel wide open for mockery, quickly taken advantage of by the grandmother's sharp tongue. Underhanded abuse was heaped on top of crafted insults and insinuations when Rosel finally snapped. She didn't know how it happened, but when the lightning burst from her body, it was a release so energizing she laughed aloud for a full ten minutes. The grandmother was dead, charred body slightly smoking, and the family members dropped their tea, cried hysterically, and most of all, did not touch the laughing Rosel.
When the laughter died, all in the room looked one by one to the maiden on the floor, still holding her sides. When she looked up, she sneered. Ingrates, useless peasants, imbeciles, every one of them. If they were smart, they would have ran from her.
The household dissolved into screams of chaos before long, servants falling under bolts of lightning as black as night. Fire erupted from the walls and tapestries and decorated bedchambers, ensnaring those it could. Those it did not found themselves facing a nightmare with glowing green eyes, sneering as they tried to escape lightning that burst forth from her body.
As much fun as the destruction was, it became tiresome, and when the villagers started swarming the manor in desperation, if only to loot what they could get before the fire did, Rosel knew she didn't have enough strength to kill them all. Their small countryside knew her face and her position, if they knew she was alive there would be no mercy. Not about to go through something so mundane as imprisonment, or even execution, she threw a cloak over herself, still wearing the black pearls from the dinner and pushed back through the crowd. Escaping into the falling night, she leapt onto the moonbeams and traveled to earth. In the inferno of the manor, a plain gold band slowly melted on the floor of what was once the parlor.
It was the rain that woke her, nearly a day later. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with a sky shattered with lightning and sheets of cold rain on her face. Somehow she had gotten lost on her way down, and now lay across the trunk of a fallen tree in a dead swamp. Her cloak was ripped and soaked, useless. Aside from the lightning, the only steady light came from green fluorescent mushrooms populating the trails of interlinking fallen trees. Alone, unharmed, and in a place that probably didn't know of her or her crimes, she left the swamp for the Village of the Red Moon.
