Stage || Prentice
Race || Hybrid (½ Ice - ½ Water) Earthling
Gender || Female
Path || Sorcerer - Staff
*note: Colors and patterns will be the exact same as her brother, Farah’s. They're basically gender-bent versions of each other in every way except hairstyle.
Hair Style and Color || █ - She keeps a short, wavy bob.
Skin Color || █ with █ Matori speckling (no two-toned skin, please)
Clothing || She prefers loose sundress-esque things in light grey-scale and pastel colors. Sandals are optional.
Description || █ - eyes (Ice pupil and eyebrows) /// No crystals!
Faydis is a rather short, curvaceous, pear-shaped girl. She was not born skinny, and that has become exaggerated due to the laziness induced by her medication. She has large, pale yellow eyes reminiscent of her Ice heritage (with pupils and eyebrows to match), a dainty snub nose, full, perky lips, and a small, round face. Her ears are fin-shaped, like the Matori, and her pale green, wavy hair and speckles also stem from her Water blood. She and her brother have spring-y pastel like coloration, and she keeps to that with her clothing, as well. Faydis doesn't accessorize well (being so careless), but she'll wear whatever trinkets her brother offers her.
Three Base Traits|| Daring, Devious, Boorish
Additional Traits|| Alert, Incisive, Energetic, 'Optimistic,' Agreeable, Sneaky, Forceful, Imaginative, Subjective, Observant, Impersonal
Personality||
- Faydis has an innate personality that is in a similar vein as her brother's. While she was never invested in, physically aggressive, or outgoing as it pertained to strangers (unlike Farah), she always had more of a passing interest in them as a detached form of entertainment. People to her are part of a play or show. They're out there, and can inspire a great variety of emotions from her, but they aren't 'real,' and can't actually do anything to her. She has been physically assaulted by Matori villagers before, so it's not that she thinks they can't actually touch her, like a ghost or a spirit wouldn't be able to, but more that they can't have an impact on her as a person. The things they do and the things they say are up to her interpretation and of no real value. They don't have 'feelings,' and if she were to hurt them, that wouldn't necessarily be bad.
This is true of everyone. Literally everyone, except Farah. If Faydis is the play's audience, then Farah is it's writer. She does not feel any need to interact with the world at large, herself, but she is consistently very interested in how her brother makes people behave. Despite his aggressive mood swings and volatile behavior, she holds no fear of her twin. Rather than try and temper his tempestuousness or encourage him to avoid those who dislike them, she prefers to feed his paranoia with rumors, secrets, and outright lies to see what he'll incite in the people around them. She can be a bit of a sneak, and despite her love for her twin and her belief that he, like her, is 'real,' she will, on occasion, intentionally find and act on whatever is upsetting to him at the time, as a sort of learning process.
This is something of interest to her with anyone. She doesn't like direct meetings with 'outsiders,' but as a teenager she learned that she had an affinity for magic, and she uses that to experiment from afar.
Like a storyteller can control his characters, Faydis thinks she has some sort of power over strangers. She likes the idea of being informed of other peoples' lives, manipulative, in-control, and she tries to be as such, but she's not clever or patient enough to successfully see most of her antics through. She isn't easily distraught, though, and even failing in this regard is of no consequence to her. Success or fail, neither is bad, just another learning experience.
She is quietly inquisitive, trustful of anything she sees or is told until new information develops, and is unnervingly clingy to none but Farah.
Her lack of concern for her own safety, coupled with the notion that no one else can really affect her, will lead her to try bold, dangerous things, often at the suggestion of the 'outsiders' she and her brother interact with. These, too, are learning experiences, often in what not to do, but rarely something else. It is one such suggestion from her father that spurred Faydis to medicate herself. He brought home herbs to her, and she carelessly ate them because why not.
The above is her natural state and how she feels on any given 'normal' day, but after being introduced to her medicine, Faydis' behaviors changed. While previously passively curious and interested in behavior more than action, Fay became disinterested in everything. She became detached from her hobbies (and her magic). While previously always engaged with Farah and his antics, she became too lazy to bother keeping up with him, if he was going to be constantly on the move.
Her mood has mellowed, and she's assumed a sort of lack-luster carelessness about herself and everything else. Farah dislikes the medication and they do argue about her continued willingness to take it. Unfortunately, she's become rather addicted. On days that she misses her pill, Fay has symptoms similar to withdrawal, on top of her already skeezy 'normal' attitude. Of all the things she could've decided she didn't like, withdrawal is among her top three.
History||
- Farah and Faydis' parents met on the road. Their mother, Sigrun, was traveling from Zidel to a smaller village when she came across a stranger half frozen in the snow. She took him to the nearest inn, and stayed by his side as a healer tended to his ailments. In the time it took him to heal, Sigrun learned that the man's name was Taavetti and that he was a wanderer who, in his youth, wanted to see as much of the world as possible.
There was much to admire about the iceling woman who had rescued him; she was beautiful, if not cool tempered, and in her distance from him, Taavetti could tell she was strong of spirit. He tried to charm Sigrun into traveling with him, but the woman openly told the wicked little fish that she had a family back in Zidel, a husband and two daughters, and was simply on her way to visit with her sister.
Still, there was something about Taavetti that Sigrun couldn't stay away from. Her marriage was one of love, at least in appearances; she knew her husband had affairs, but had kept herself from doing so out of pure principal. At least one of them had to keep up appearances in front of their daughters. At first, she detested that she was now trapped in that little inn, forced to stay by Taavetti because of a strong storm that made all travel dangerous, but after a few weeks of near constant contact with the man, Sigrun's defenses began to wear down.
Taavetti was a cad, a horrible flirt, terribly attractive, and attentive to her in a way she hadn't seen since she was first married. She tried to explain to him over and over that she was a married woman, who was well over ten years his senior, and he should keep his distance. Taavetti did no such thing.
He selfishly desired the iceling, and though she tried to fight it, Sigrun felt the same. Before the storm was through the two had spent more than a few nights in each other's beds, and when the snows had cleared Sigrun was gone. She claimed that her senses had returned to her, and that she needed to get away from her 'mistake' as quickly as possible. In truth, she feared that she could very easily stay there for the rest of her life, curled up in the younger man's arms, escaping her duties to her family.
When she arrived at her sister's home, Sigrun was ill. At first she thought it was merely anxiety over her misdeed that kept her retching, but when her sister made the comment about having similar signs when pregnant, Sigrun only became worse. How could she not only sleep with someone who wasn't her husband, but now be carrying his child? And a hybrid, at that?! There was no way she could return home with it, So in her letters back home, Sigrun lied to her husband, claiming her sister had taken ill, and she was having to stay longer to take care of her.
In truth, her sister was aiding in her lies to keep Sigrun's pregnancy a secret. She remained in the woman's home until the time of her labor, only to come to the sickening realization that she carried not one hybrid child, but twins. Once the babes were born, plans were made.
Taavetti had been sought out. In the months Sigrun was pregnant her brother-in-law and his sons scoured Zena, then Sauti, and finally Tale to find the man. When he was finally found, buried in another woman's curls in a bar, and dragged back to Zena, Taavetti was just as horrified as Sigrun. He wasn't ready to be a father! At least, not one that was present and ready to raise children.
And yet he had to. Sigrun gave him an ultimatum; be there with her as she smothered the childen, or take them with him to Matori. Her husband could not find out, no one could, and she was willing to go to any lengths to make that happen.
As opposed as Taavetti was to halting his adventures so early in life, he wouldn't allow his offspring to be killed. He called Sigrun out on her callousness and her coldness to her own infants, before being tossed out with the babes in hand.
In the weeks that followed Taavetti made sure that his twin childern, Farah and Faydis, survived. He paid wet nurses to travel with them as far as they could and tried to do his best. Taavetti wasn't experienced with children at all, let alone newborns, but he tried. He wouldn't just ignore the life he'd produced (like Sigrun seemed to be able to do), no matter how unexpected it was.
He took the twins to Matori, to his old home in Besaji, where they grew up in relative happiness. Taavetti's parents were long since dead, and the man raised his son and daughter as best as he could with the help of friends and neighbors.
At least, until they started to show peculiarities.
Once they were around the age of six, Taavetti began to notice that his children weren't like the others. At first he had just assumed they were shy and awkward because of their mixed heritage, but as they aged more specific issues came to light.
Farah's erratic mood swings would often scare other children away. One moment he seemed reserved, even hiding to cry, and the next he would show such a force of aggression that it scared even his father. His lack of self-restraint left Taavetti with no choice, but to keep him away from the villagers, out of fear of what he would do them or himself.
Faydis proved to make matters worse, when given an opportunity. She felt less of a need for direct interaction with strangers and non-family, particularly when the brunt of her entertainment came from egging her older brother on, encouraging his moods, and consistently pitting him against 'outsiders' whenever they happened to cross paths. She was clingy with Farah, regardless of her brother's temperament at the time, and always interested in whatever he was doing.
When they turned ten, Farah would often speak of seeing people that weren't there, or hearing voices when no one else was around. He became paranoid, jumping at every little sound and snapping at Taavetti for 'sneaking up on him' even when he'd announced himself at least three times. It was during this period that Taavetti was introduced to the idea of 'medicating' his children.
While Farah adamantly refused, and could not be tricked, coerced, or pleaded into taking anything, Faydis decided she would try whatever anyone put in front of her, so long as it was wrapped in sticky taffy and she didn't sense anything out of the ordinary with it. She was a bold and reckless little girl, and wasn't afraid of what 'medication' could do to her.
Farah was kept isolated in their little hut, as it seemed to calm him. He returned to a somewhat 'normal' child, finding most of his peace and delight in the ocean. He never seemed to understand why his father didn't like him laughing when a beloved pet died, or why it upset Taavetti when Farah's emotions didn't seem to be the same as his. Farah tried to understand, but in the long run, his oddity just drove a wedge between him and his father.
As ever, Faydis chose to stay close at her brother's side. She didn't question whatever drugs she was given, but on the days when she took it, it sapped most care for anything right out of her. While she'd once been jittery, chattery, clingy, vocal, and active, after taking her medicine, she became lazy, soft-spoken, careless, and despondent. The siblings have their fair share of argument over the matter (what with Farah being offended that his right-hand lady doesn't have his back at all times, anymore), but as a creature of habit, Faydis can't be bothered to change her routine. There are days that she misses taking her pills, and both she and Farah are happy for those, but it's easy enough to take them up again.
By the time they were sixteen Farah and Faydis were living on their own. Their father had moved to a larger hut near the village and was openly courting women to marry, leaving his two children to tend to themselves for the most part.
