General Name: Aria Yserai Age: 29 | June 6th, X765 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Ethnicity, Father: Joyan Ethnicity, Mother: Desiertian Class: Summoner Race: Demi-Human [Fox] Rank: X-Rank Guild: Utopian Dawn Tattoo: Lower Abdominal | Fuchsia Face: Yae Miko [Genshin Impact] Appearance Height: 6'1" Weight: 138 lb Hair: Muted Pink Eyes: Amethyst Overall: Aria possesses the physical traits of a beautiful woman; majestic, if not radiant. Flawless features oft-hidden beneath garments accustom to that of Joyan Shrine Maidens, those that are able to look through this will bear witness to a goddess, an irony not lost upon her more meager attire. A gracious figure, more often eyes that gaze upon Aria instead focus upon her head, of eyes that radiate with amethyst luster that enthrall those who look upon them. Long, flowing hair, a faint pink of color, descend down, bangs that reach past her cheeks, down atop her shoulders, as well as long down her backside, lengthy enough to just barely grace the ground whilst still appear to flow forever. Aria's beauty, though immaculate and a divine sight to behold, is betrayed by her frequently-worn attire; simple robes immediately recognizable like those worn by the Shrine Maidens in Joya. Made of the most meager of materials, these robes present one of the most unique displays in being both beautifully conservative while also being surprisingly revealing. As well as being surprisingly complimentary to that of Aria's body, a symbiotic relationship so perfect that those ignorant to Joya would only assume it to be a custom robe made only for her, not that of traditional garments. In spite of being a Demi-Human, Aria's most notable feature, her fox ears, are an attribute that can be completely missed by those otherwise mesmerized by her beauty. Naturally lower unlike that of foxes and others who may share her same Demi-Human qualities, often Aria's ear are simply mistaken for some of the stylized bangs, having the same muted pink color as the rest of her hair. Extra: Often, long jeweled chain composed of thin, almost thread-like gold intertwine within her hair. Though often most apparent caressing along the fox-like ears, further descending down upon her shoulders and the rest of her hair. Personality Personality: Petty. Jaded. Cruel. Broken. No shortage of terms to describe the woman known by the name of Aria Yserai, a woman whose beauty and exotic appearance mask the utter contempt and hatred towards the world around her. Having lived a life that some would characterize as a 'rags to riches' type of plight, one that many would assume would make her stronger, few could have imagined that instead it simply intensified a venomous outlook upon everyone and everything around her. Put simply, everyone is beneath her. Nobody is worthy of her. Nobody deserves compassion from her, yet should still revere her. It's in that singular thinking that Aria has come to fully cement her identity, as a woman that should be treated to the finest of things. But yet, for the God-given rights that she holds to herself, the reverence expected, it should not be something of which she should have to struggle to attain or otherwise be expected to reciprocate. The world, its people, all of them abandoned her years ago; a youthful girl, left upon the worst of circumstances only to survive in spite of the adversity, with each hand that was never offered to being a hatred allowed manifest amongst society tenfold. Her hatred, perhaps not unwarranted, does not erase the dark recesses of her own mind, the feelings of loneliness, of being unwanted, that persistently echo within her. The taunting cries of an ego so fragile that the simplest of rejections is enough to send the woman into a conflicted state of dismay combatting bewilderment. She wants for nobody. Only herself. Yet she remains desperate for affection. Terrified that it may disappear before her. In her malady, Aria exposed herself to the darkest corners of the Abyss, the bones and broken lives of the numerous people whose lives she destroyed in order to reach them being nothing short of an expected price that the world were to pay. Hardly a drop in the bucket of what was owed to her, but in discovering the horrors, so came a new way for the people to attone. Through contracts. Through their own service. Aria's dealings, by nature, offer those who deal with her little hope. Whatever illusion of benefit they give, it is fleeting, only lending way to absolute despair. It matters not who suffers as a result. Man, woman, child, even those of more heavenly and demonic nature, have found themselves victim to Aria's cruel contracts, her meddling with demonic influences offering no salvation and the woman in her cruelty offering no pity. What happens afterwards, whether they recover, whether they suffer the ramifications of the deal, none of that is concern to Aria. They all deserve damnation. Why shouldn't she benefit from the fate that's awaiting the rest of the world? Despite all of that inherent cruelty there is a sliver of humanity within Aria's heart, if only just in a self-serving manner. Those condemned, provided they possess something of worth to Aria; wealth, a worthwhile tradecraft, a level of attractiveness, an indescribable attribute that makes one stand out, in that may one find the agony of their condemnation spared, in exchange for their absolute service. If one is capable of serving Aria up to whatever her standard may be, why not allow them to live a bit longer? Once she finds herself bored of them it will be easy enough to simply be rid of them again. Likes:
Dislikes:
Motivations:
Fears:
Statistics Strength: 61 Speed: 319 Constitution: 251 Endurance: 160 Intelligence: 501 Magic Magic Name: Sacrificial Art: Service from a World Asunder Magic Element: Arcane Magic Enhancement: Additional Spell-Type: Debuff Magic Description: Monsters exist, even when you think they don't. Some fear them. Others revere them. And others work alongside them. Aria is one such example, having formed into contracts with some such monsters within the world. They serve her, protect her, and carry out her will. In return, she provides them with freedom; the opportunity to lay waste to the world that had long since rejected them. History History: Tragedy comes in all forms. For some, they envision the family struggling to survive, the circumstances of a fate beyond their control overwhelming whatever hope they may have clung to. Others, they see the futility of peace, whatever closeness to it that a people are able to achieve being stomped out before them, leaving only panic, chaos, and the inevitable pain awaiting. So often the focus is put upon the many. The idea that hardship must be viewed through the eyes of how many suffer, that the plight of many outweigh that of those who may suffer alone. Those torn away from their home, left to flee from the cruel flames of violence and racial divides, abandoning what meager possessions they may have had to escape with their lives. All they wanted were a simple living. A Desiertian harlot and a Joyan merchant, two souls who came from distantly-apart worlds and indulged in lust with one another. Their lust gave birth to love and their love brought with them a child. Daughter Aria. But the young girl, with her birth came hardships none envisioned. Violence, driven by the rise of nationalism throughout the various nations of Earthland, severed once reliable trade routes. The reliability that existed and had served merchants for generations were gone, lifestyles shattered, fortunes vanishing before their very eyes. 'Never would it happen to me', they all believed. Holding onto his young girl, the purple eyes radiating through the faint strands of pink hair, the Joyan merchant thought the same. Day and night came and went, everyone eagerly awaiting the rain. But it did not come. The shriveled remains of the year's harvest weltered away like dust in the wind. As the innocent child slept soundly, the world around her began to shatter. In desperation, violence came. Fear gave way to the death of reason. Each passing day came more and more cruelty, it being only a matter of time before it consumed them all. They left in the middle of the night. Them and a few others, seeking amnesty from the ever consuming brutality eroding their homeland. What was left of her memories ceased. She remembered her name. 'Aria'. One of the few things that the young girl fully knew. Her past; what happened to her, how did she end up in this foreign land, it was all a blur. Joya, they called this place. Her homeland, she had once thought she heard it described. Her father hailed from here, but where was he? She could not recall, it had been so long. Not even his face she could remember. Nor her mother. A Desiertian whore, that was the extent of what she could remember. Someone had said it, not the voice that she could recall, but a cacophony of them, the venom in their words swirling throughout her memories, what little memories they even were. The girl carried herself throughout the streets, struggling to survive. What kindness was shown to her was met with violence and cruelty multiple times over. The crying eventually stopped, her eyes too exhausted to bother shedding any further tears. The fatigue that ate away at her, the pain that radiated through legs that aimlessly wandered becoming something that she had grown accustom to. Looking to the sky, a part of her just wished for it to end. Out of the corner of her eye she happened upon a bird, flying within the air. Moments later, arrived another bird, much larger and faster, claiming the smaller for its own motives. She would not remain the smaller bird. Either she would become the larger bird that imposed its will, or she would fall. Years passed, and the girl whom the streets had sought to destroy had matured into a beautiful woman. Elegant. Exotic. A life reimagined, the opportunities that had been once denied her now commonplace. The mysterious woman with the pink hair, radiant and regal, she relished in how her life had come to change. There, resting calmly upon the table near the bottle of wine, lay the cards. Simple things, a gift that she had been given by a dear friend. A friend whom had been very gracious to her. For each card within the deck, the price had been paid. Bodies, their literal blood spilled by their own hand. Families torn apart. Fortunes drained in a single evening. Destinies denied and ambitions crushed into the ground. A lifetime's worth of suffering carried out one hundred times over, the blood price for the cards that gifted her the chance to carry out the agony again and again and again. It was the least that she could do, return the favor to the world that for over a decade she harbored unbelievable hatred towards. Her mind raced, a part of her shaking with excitement to whom next would write their name upon a card, condemning themselves to the cruel eternity that would inevitably await them. And just what it would be that she would foster for herself, what riches would be the ante paid for the illusion of glory that she would providing. She loved every second of it. And taking another sip from the wine, the red liquid cascading against the rim of the glassware, her eyes, bright as a glowing amethyst and as cold as the deep grave that this poor soul would inevitably find themselves in, she wondered just what it would be next that she were to offer. What illusion of fortune would be written upon her cards, and just what she were to get in return from her latest guest. In the end, she knew exactly what she would be gifted. Everything. Possessions, riches, hopes, dreams, ambitions. All of it were the price that the people had come to pay Aria. And those that did not pay, inevitably she was going to take it from everyone. They had denied her her past. She would deny them their future. Reference: New Year, New Me [Vyra Emrakul] |
Aria Yserai [NYNM]
Wed Jan 25, 2023 6:33 pm
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