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Basics



Name: Netami Mikaelson
Age: A couple millenia
Gender: Female
Hair/Eye color: Her hair is blonde with splotches of white gradually bleeding through// Bright yellow
Race: Nephalem
Ethnicity: Scandinavian
Height: 5'4
Body type: Netami is a very lithe person, seeming to appear in the body of a child more than an adult. Her hair is long and reaches down to her thighs.



Personal

Personality: Netami is genuinely caring for others and her appetite is astounding when it comes to food. She is very soft spoken, and enjoys sparking up conversation as long as her past is not brought into question. She is very confident, yet cannot see her own brilliance. She's also a major klutz when she uses her ability on accident, except when she's cleaning, gardening, or any of those types, and she knows she is strong from her innate ability.

Netami is very reserved as she had no one to talk to growing up besides those who judged her, and she is a very private person in most occasions. That does not mean she will not tell people who ask the answer to the question, as she was never one to lie or keep the truth from another, even if it is of a personal matter. When she gets upset, or when she is very excited, she will revert back to her original dialect.

Likes:
❤ Food
❤ Fantasizing
❤ Reading and studying
❤ Pouncing on things
❤ Loves to clean
❤ Hurting others

Dislikes:
✖ Rotten food
✖ Being/feeling useless (which is constant)
✖ Those who won't help others
✖ Her cursed birth
✖ Judgemental people

Fears:
💀 Her darker side coming forth and hurting those she has found favor with
💀 Anyone finding out that her blindness is caused by self inflicting wounds

Bio: Bzou was the true demon, so then Netami was as well. "You are the only evidence we have to prove that Bzou is the true demon, you cannot leave us!" That's what they said when little Netami's monochromatic wings appeared at the age of 4. It wasn't evident that the small nubs would turn out to be wings, but as her body slowly grew, so did the appendages. But now we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Netami grew up in a very small village in the middle of nowhere of Sweden long ago. It wasn't much of a miracle, at least she thought, that she had such vibrant yellow orbs and snow kissed blonde hair. It was even less exciting for her when all of her small village knew every little detail about her, and treated her as if she was their daughter. It was weird actually, she would always think when the townsfolk would holler toward her and call her things like "blessed one" and "the chosen". Back then, it certainly took a village to raise one, but this was a bit extreme.

It got even worse when the four year old grew to not be able to hide her nubs anymore, and small speckled fledgling feathers started sprouting out randomly all over them. The towns folks' eyes grew wide and they all got down on their knees in the snow when Netami's mother, her long hair dripping down into the child's eyes, ripped off her coat and shirt to show the town the evidence of her findings. So there Netami stood, shivering violently- her inner furnace not having been activated yet- and afraid of what the town would do to her, waiting for the outcome. But... nothing happened. They just chanted strange things, and bowed their heads in prayer before getting up and slowly, as if their hands would burn with fire, touch her appendages softly. It was stupid, Netami remembered thinking afterwards.

When she was ten years old, her mother, her hair now longer than ever, and her father told them of the plan the townsfolk had for the family; Netami especially. Just as her own mother had shown her off like a prized pony, so thought that was what the town would do. They had never seen anything like her before, the chosen one, the one that shone like snow and beauty. The shining one. The towns people had already been showing any passerby, that was unlucky enough to find their little village, of Netami's glory and prayed for their souls to be saved from the fires of Hel for the one true demon walked the Earth once more. She was just a walking attraction, she had thought bitterly before being pushed up onto what would laughingly be called a pedestal and shown off again to a traveling family. There was only one other village over, and yet they always would come to the neighboring village to see her. It was so stupid, she remembered thinking afterward.

At 17, Netami finally worked up the courage to show her family the small marking's she had made on a stone with kindling. It was to jot down their life, most importantly her thoughts in scribbles and symbols. Before she could even open her hands to show her, her mother had grabbed it from her after her protests, and threw it far away after breaking it in two. "The town must never know of this!" she had cried to her before slapping her across the face. The sting of her words hurt more than her hand, and Netami had sat there in silence as her parents left the teepee. Her wings, these damn nuisances, were writhing in place, demanding justice for the assault. But Netami was ignorant.

Going quickly to the town elder, she told the man of her innocent writings. The man said again what he told Netami when she was 4, and ordered her not to leave the town or think herself better than they; scared of whatever she could possibly be jotting on the many stones and what others would think if they could ever read them. The threat came when the snowy haired girl turned and began walking away: "If you leave now, your parents will die for your sacrilege!"

Needless to say, she didn't believe him. Netami couldn't believe him. She couldn't be trapped there for any longer, couldn't be subjugated to prayer after prayer, offering after offering. She couldn't do it, her mind couldn't do it. So she fled to her home and she packed her things quickly. It was modest how small her bag was, and she had just finished packing the broken stones into her back with enough food to last her for weeks.

Her body went rigid when she had heard the familiar cry of her mother come from outside of the tent. Netami bolted outside immediately and found her father lying in the dirt, his eyes wide yet unseeing. As she watched, just after a split second of crossing the threshold and running outside, her mother's throat was then slit in front of her. The town elder spoke those same words to her, over and over again as he cleaned the silver knife on his handkerchief, and simply... looked toward the frightened girl.

...Netami does not know what happened after that. If anyone were to ask, she would say that at least. But in her mind it plays over and over again: the dashing toward the elder after elongating her 15ft wingspan all the way across, and of tackling the man quickly. The way her fists made contact with flesh that turned to squelching hits as the skin finally broke underneath her relentless attack. And how, for the first time in her life, she took the life of a human being. It wasn't until she saw the redness of blood, her electrified orbs staring down at what she had done, did her mind suddenly calm itself, and she was able to think again. Turning round, all of the villagers now afraid and a few feet away in terror, Netami with her face and wings bloody, stooped down to her mother's corpse and gently undid the necklace around her neck. She knew it to be his grandmothers, and that was all that mattered.

Looking back toward the townspeople one last time, Netami looked toward the open sky that was now not just a beckoning call but a trumpet of salvation, opened her wings yet again, and pushed herself off as she traveled higher and higher into the air with each downstroke. She was free. And it was at the cost of her parent's lives...

When she finally stopped, her wings growing tired from such overuse, Netami was nowhere familiar. She had traveled to the mountains in her haze, her pack by her side as she nestled into a small cave that had formed in the alcove of rock. She had taken the elder's gleaming knife when she had left, and she looked a the stained blade. She had no idea what kind of material it was, but if it had killed her parents, killed people that were so very hard to...

Netami had taken the knife in hand and brought it to the nub of her wings. Without a second thought, she began to cut. Eventually, with many screams and huffing breaths later, both appendages were sliced from her body and lying bloody on the ground behind her. She threw the knife away from her deeper into the cave and curled into a ball, falling down in unconsciousness before she could move away from those vile wings. When she awoke, she wondered how she had survived from the cold howling into the cave. Her father and mother were also burning warm, warmer than all others in the village, and as she placed her hand to her chest, she felt the same warmth. What did that mean? It would take Netami many centuries later to find out. Regardless, the girl simply ate, forgetting about how she could have survived such blood loss, and walked deeper into the cave. She found the knife and slowly, wishing she had cut the bloody things off after she had left such a high incline, left the cave.

On her way down, the young girl slipped upon a snowy ledge, falling presumably to her death. She had let out a violent scream as she fell, her pack swinging against her harshly, and she shut her eyes before the sickening splat came. But it never did, and when Netami opened her eyes, she saw she was only inches from the ground. Horror was upon her face when she looked behind her, feeling her back muscles growing tense, as those disgusting wings were pushing the air beneath them so she could hover there. She fell onto her backside on the dirt of the forest floor, beginning to scream and cry. Eventually she got ahold of herself, and the trembling girl slung her pack back over her shoulder and continued onward.

She came across a small village without attracting any attention as she slipped from shadow to shadow. Her pack was almost empty, having traveled so far on foot, and she quickly found another pair of clothes and shoes, she scavenged for food easily enough before exiting. That was the first interaction with any others she had ever had in her life, those who didn't see her as a sideshow attraction or a freak. It was... nice.

Netami did not know what she was when she was younger, not understanding that those who raised her were not her parents. That she was a freak of nature. She killed multiple people in her youth, the years slowly passing but her age seeming to stay the same as traumatic event after event shrouded her life. She did not know what she was doing, or why she did it, until a group of kind people found her after her anger subsided. They took her in, having fed her goats and reindeer and comforting her aching thoughts. They were the kindest people Neta ever met, her life seeming to be happy for a time as they taught her how to hunt and that of being a halfbreed. They told her the secret of their own affliction of lycanthropia, and it didn't pass by her that her parents sounded exactly the same. She was nothing like that, and thus realized slowly she had been adopted at birth. For centuries they lived in peace there; feeding on the livestock and wildlife when the full moon appeared, Neta using her own abilities to keep them in check when they turned. The deep seated anger she had would subside when she did this, the release just enough to keep her also in check.

It all crashed down around the girl when the hunters came and razed everything she had built with the family. She had just learned of her stasis in age, and of her ability of... something, when the bleating of the sheep caught their attentions. The elder wolves had protected her, informing her with hushed and quickening whispers that they were about to be attacked by those called hunters. They were from her home village many miles away, hunting Netami down as she had murdered the elder. The guilt that washed into the woman's brain was profound, but she was pushed back, into a closed alcove, when the door suddenly burst open and three large men cascaded into the small home.

She stayed quiet as the blood dripped across the floor and she saw her friends for centuries murdered before her through the slit in the wall. Her hands were pressed to her mouth, unable to move for fear of being heard but also because there was simply no room. Eventually they left, cursing under their breaths at having missed the half-breed, and only after the night fell many hours later did Neta move an inch. She cried over her friends' body for hours after, her rage taking her over in that moment but as she watched the blood flow, it was quenched. She had killed someone the village held dear, and they had done the same to her. If she continued that cycle, what good was she? No, she could not do that to them, to perpetuate such hatred. Instead she had done what she had to to receive her penance. Taking the olden dagger from many years ago from her pack, the woman held it in front of her; hands shaking as her breath huffed. She took her eyesight that night, her screams of agony muffled behind the walls of the cottage as she held her bleeding eyes.

Eventually, very slowly, Netami left the cottage after recovering the next day. Left her friends on their pyres after singing her songs, and she left. The cottage went up in smoke, the woman waiting for it to burn out so that the forest would be safe, and she released the sheep from their captivity. She became the wandering girl again, a red cloak draped about her visage as she went. Her friend had made it for her years ago, and it reminded her of him to the point she wore it at night even if she was overheating from her natural warmth. The senses afterwards cascaded through her and almost drove her mad. It was as if when she lost one prominent ability, all others became stronger. She could hear into people's bodies, sense all living things. It almost drove the woman mad as she wandered.

There was nothing left for her in those following milleniums, her life meaning little as she took every precaution to stay away from villages, and keeping to herself as she recovered from her self inflicted wounds. It wouldn't be until such a very long time later, the world turning drastically, would she find anyone to live her life with... for a time anyways. Now she finds herself at a mysterious hotel she heard much about. With it, perhaps she can meet others that understand the deep seated rage that has delved in her for years.

Profession/Occupation: Comic Book Expert/ Appraiser

Other:

Magic Abilities:
❇ Electroreception: Netami can use electroreception to locate objects around her. This is important in places where she cannot depend on vision: for example in caves, in murky water and at night. Predators who have this sense use electric fields to detect buried prey. This sense can be passive or active:
Passive: In passive electrolocation, Netami senses the weak bioelectric fields generated by living beings and uses it to locate them. These electric fields are generated by everything living due to the activity of their nerves and muscles.
Active: In active electrolocation, she senses her surrounding environment by generating electric fields and detecting distortions in these fields using electroreceptor organs. This allows them to detect non-living objects as well as living beings. (This is how she still has perfect senses without having the ability to see.) {Constant. If it were on a cooldown/lasts for she'd be at an extreme disadvantage. If another electric user disrupts this ability, Netami will not be able to see and must rely on her other senses to continue.}
❇ Electricity Empowerment: Netami become stronger, faster, more durable, etc. when she comes in contact with electricity enhancing her existing powers. {If she comes into contact with a powerbox directly, empowering lasts from anywhere between 2-4 posts, 5-9 cooldown.}
❇ Electrical Healing: She can heal herself or others by using electricity by absorbing the electrons and using them to stimulate molecules, renewing damaged cells. Electricity can also provide energy to reduce fatigue, allowing optimal health, as well as restarting the heart and repair any brain damage. (This is how she heals faster than most werewolves.) {Anywhere between 1-3 posts, 6-10 cooldown.}
❇ Electric Field Manipulation: Netami can create, shape and manipulate electric fields, the force that hold atoms together within objects, machines and/or a field that surrounds and dwell in a person/being. She can generate electrical fields of her own to form tangible force-fields and many other feats or negate existing electric fields. She can surround herself with electricity. Nullifying strong attacks and causing more damage with attacks given. This also allows her to fuse lightning into combat, making hits far more devastating if made contact with. Likewise, she can negate an object's electric field as well, thus removing any form of structure. She can reduce any object into dust and the dust into atoms and atoms into nothing. She can shoot lightning from her fingers, infuse it into weapons, and absorb lightning. {Manipulation of electric fields, and generating, is a constant- must have permission to kill a character of course. Electric shield lasts for 4 posts, cooldown 6. (Short cooldown as electricity is all around her. Doubled that cooldown if she's in the forest without any source.)}

Strengths/Skills:
✩ Netami has excellent vision, and can see during the night (Well, she did.) Her hearing is better than the normal humans, and she can hear heartbeats, blood flow, and through thin walls
✩ High reading ability (is able to read at an extremely fast level and comprehend things at superhuman speeds. This is used in conjunction with her active ability to perceive the ink in the pages and the symbols it makes to form letters.)
✩ Photographic memory and deduction (Form of Panmnesia) and because of this she is a great technical intuition and is, she would never admit, a genius in the field
✩ Her element is unforgiving against water. Because her lightning can cause flames and it has a higher frequency burn than fire, she can somewhat harm wind users more so than normal.

Weaknesses:
☢ Normal weaknesses for conflicting hybrids; slightly muddied because of her age. She has immense rage that even with her calm demeanor can sprout unexpectedly, and because she has to hide her wings underneath large clothing for fear of her race being known, it is always on her mind that she is trapped- making her even angrier of everyone else's possible perceived behavior.

☢ When Netami is riled up, usually in terms of true sadness and loses herself, red lights calm her mind to the point of submission. She can still do things, but when she sees a red light she becomes instantly submissive.

☢ Earth is her elemental weakness solely based off her lightning attacks, not her infusion of it into her attacks. She cannot displace the particles in the rock at the frequency that she desires, and therefore finds it bothersome to resort to hand to hand combat against earth based users.

Theme song: End of Innocence

Voice-claim: Brina Palencia- Holo Spice and Wolf