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Mana General Name: Roana Age: 19 | October 13, X776 Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Ethnicity, Father: Pergrandi Ethnicity, Mother: Desiertian Class: Berserker Race: Demi-Human (Phoenix) Rank: D-Rank Guild: Dragon Order Tattoo: Neck, below jugular vein [Red] Face: Fiammetta [Arknights] Appearance Height: 5'6" Weight: 101 lbs Hair: Red Orange Eyes: Red Overall: Roana is a young, yet beautiful woman whose Demi-Human attributes otherwise distract from the horrific byproducts that her abusive upbringing branded her with. A fair complexion, her skin color a shade similar to that of what someone with both Desiertian and Pergrandi blood may have had, though slightly paler to the point where at first glance she would be more likely assumed Pergrandi and several other nationalities before Desiertian. Her complexion does compliment a model-like face, made all the more pronounced by her eyes; two rich red diamonds that carry in them a scorn and a thousand-yard stare that as much could cause one's heart to melt whilst imposing a look of dread. Her hair is disheveled, out of deliberatecy than that of laziness, having the same intensity in its red orange hue like that of her eyes, incredible to look at while also standing out in one's memory. Despite having a beautiful face and a female figure that compliments it, her typical style of clothing does not reflect it at all. Instead of something elegant to the female figure, more alluring or seductive, she almost exclusively wears an outfit more reflective of a traditional professional within the normal functioning world of Fiore. Typically, it is a linen, full-length shirt with short sleeves, fastened by buttons often partially hidden by a short red tie enwrapped beneath the shirt collar that conceals an impressive bust. Black suspenders reach out and wrap around her shoulders, connected to a short, thick black skirt that begins from her naval and extends down to a distance just above her lower thighs at maximum length, towards her mid-thigh whilst moving. On her right thigh are several black, leather straps arranged in a pseudo-pattern, extending past the length of her skirt to just above her knee. Heavy leather boots laced with the straps and buckles in the same manner as the design on her right thigh extend up past her calf muscles, only a short distance from being knee-high themselves. Lastly, it is rare for Roana to not be wearing the final piece to her attire, a thick black jacket that she tends to wear in an open manner, neither fastened by buckle, strap, or lining, nor is it uncommon that she tends to wear it falls off of her shoulders, sinking down towards her triceps, lending one to wonder how quite a look manages to remain rather than simply falling to the ground. Extra: Two 'ear-like' protrusions within her head that have the consistency and appearance of hair, yet behave like those of a pair of feline-like ears. Personality Personality: Few should be shocked when the tortured soul rebels against the world. It should be expected that one betrayal be met by another, and sadly, every step that Roana has taken seems to inevitably erode the young woman into nothing more than a vessel eventually set out to a destination of ruin and pain. But for as cruel as everything would come to point to her potential fate, none of that should detract or take away from the reality that Roana is a survivor, first and foremost. Having endured and come out of one of the most harrowing plights that any young child could imagine facing and emerge out of it as the capable figure that she is now, there should be no response towards it other than applause and celebration. Even if the accolades will further her down a horrid path. Roana is an extremely private woman, one who overwhelmingly keeps her feelings held close to her heart, more due to her inability to trust others than worry for how her feelings may be perceived. While true, her sentiments towards a number of topics may be viewed in the lens of 'more extreme' than what would be typically thought of normal, it does not take away from her preferring to believe that nobody is trustworthy by default. Though of course, people can prove her wrong, the burden to achieve this feat is a difficult and taxing one, just as the patience and willingness Roana would allow anyone to attempt such trust is short and second chances are seldom, if ever, given. Her sense of trust is largely shattered, the idea that people are inherently good or otherwise of good heart being nothing short of an outright lie. Growing up, the only thing that Roana encountered was cruelty; cruelty at the hands of her mother and cruelty at the hands of those whom she was sold to as a slave. Among the slaves that she resided with, those whom she thought there may have been a chance to build a loose sense of family towards, she was instead met with the same cruelty in the form of everyone looking out for themselves. This, in many ways, broke her. It broke her ability to trust, even in times of desperation, showing her that the only path forward was that of self-interest and showing cruelty in favor of it if needed. More than that, it taught her to never expect help from anyone, a mantra that she has largely carried forward, looking at every instance of aid shown to her with an incredible sense of doubt applied. Despite her doubts and warped sense of the world, Roana is not an inherently awful person. Sadly, her tale is more like that of a victim that never received support, received closure, or any reason to be hopeful. As such, behind the cruel demeanor that would forsake anyone and everyone, she is also a scared little girl that desperately wishes for a normal life. But a normal life is not something that she can ever realistically imagine for herself, not with how she views the world now. There will always be monsters amongst the people. People who lie and tell false stories of happiness that then betray you when you believe you are safe. The only truth, as she sees it, within the world is power. Having power makes you strong. Not having power makes you wish that you were important, and those without it are all too obvious. Family is a concept that Roana does not quite understand, nor does she believe that she can ever truly comprehend. Everything that she had heard of, the stories that she wished to have lived, they all depicted a family as something great. An opportunity to be loved and welcomed, where one can safely imagine that they would have a real life where they can pursue their dreams. Roana never got that opportunity to experience it for herself though. Betrayal is the extent of family that she knows of. The other half to that equation is abandonment, mixed with a hint of hatred. Over the course of years, this sentiment solidified itself further and further within her psyche, to the point that any deviation of it, any actual family-like company that she may find, she will expectedly act cold towards, if not even hostile to. But even in her hostility towards family, she deep down longs desperately to be loved. Her entire sense of self-worth is nothingness, a persistent feeling that her life is forfeit sadly lives rent-free within her mind, with only a driving desire for revenge and a desperate hope to be loved being the only thing that keeps her out of a suicidal descent. Yet in those driving motivations, there also exists a conflicting duality. To achieve revenge, she must be willing to sacrifice everything, including herself, including any hope for happiness for herself. But in finding someone - anyone - to show her love, the pursuit of revenge may run in direct conflict, the potential reality that if her life were to follow forward on both roads, Roana likely would be forced to make an impossible choice. See her life find meaning moving forward or finally right the horrific upbringing and torture that forever scarred and ruined her hopes for a future. Likes:
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Statistics Strength: 6 Speed: 6 Constitution: 6 Endurance: 6 Intelligence: 6 Magic Magic Name: Second Generation Dragon Slayer Magic: Metal Magic Element: Arcane Magic Enhancement: N/A Magic Description: Dragon Slayers are a unique type of people who utilize a form of Lost Magic, Dragon Slayer Magic. Each Dragon Slayer has their own form of Magic, just like each Dragon is a master of their own element. In addition, they also have the ability to consume the element that they utilize, just as long as it is not created from their own Magic. Dragon Slayers are known to possess keener senses than those of normal humans such as smell, as well as distinctive characteristics and features such as slitted pupils and noticeably sharper teeth. History History: The moon shines heavy over the sands of Desierto. And the child born to become the tale of tragedy on its lands, may they find either the strength to endure or walk the road of ruin. Let the nation of Desierto awaken to find itself standing strong or burning asunder in their dreams. Roana was born in Desierto, a child that was never expected. A child that was never wanted. Fate has a cruel way of interfering in the lives of mortals, an unexpected and unwanted encounter that took place between the two of them, a young Desiertian woman, beautiful, if not young, immature, and perhaps more than a little cruel. The other: a drifter, a cutthroat, an unruly fellow that took pride in their Pergrandi roots. An unexpected union between the two, lasting but a single night before they departed, never to be seen again by one another. That was all that should have happened. That was where their story together should have ended. But nine months later, simply the next chapter began. A woman, very much pregnant, surrounded by those there out of obligation and commitment, not of love. Truly, the woman was alone, enduring the hardships of an unwanted pregnancy alone, under the harsh eyes of her fellow Desiertian. As the sun began to fall one night, her screams were all that was heard for seemingly miles. As the sun rose the next morning, it seemed finally that the cries of the woman ceased. Replaced instead by a different cry; not a crying motivated by pain and agony, but that of birth. Roana was born. And as the community gathered, it seemed that in that same instant, Roana was not to survive. The light-skinned child was viewed in horror by those in attendance, no more cruel to her in her first moments than that of her mother, the young woman who almost a year before had never imagined being forced with such a burden. No name was given to the child, but instead a single demand. "Put it in a cage," she cried out, to which they were all too eager to assist in. For years forward, the baby that would grow into the young girl that was Roana would experience her earliest years not in the arms of her mother, but against the steel bars of the small cell she was confined to. A cage for animals. That was what she was viewed as. Her treatment was no better, if not worse than if she were an animal. For years, she would just barely survive, the allure of death so often being a more desirable and welcome option than that of what she had been burdened with, Roana did not get such fortunes granted. She continued to exist. There was no life to live. There was no passion within it. There was no hope for her. The only dream she experienced were the imagining that the cage that held her would be open, that she may experience the world outside of it. That dream came eventually, but her idea of freedom was quickly shattered. The steel bars that confined her were simply traded in for a steel collar fastened around her neck. A deal brokered by her birth mother, the selling of Roana in exchange for a healthy fee, the last time that she would ever have to bear witness to the spawn that was Roana again. Life was barely anything better than what she had previously endured. She were not alone, at least in the same sense. She existed with the other slaves, many just like her who had endured a cruel fate only to be united within the same environment now. But that was where any sort of connection between her and them ended. She was not them. She was not treated like them. Although all were slaves, all were deprived of any future, she was still less than them. She was treated as less than them, not only by their captors, but by the other slaves as well. Roana escaped one form of isolation for another. Over time, the sense of sorrow and pity eroded away from her. Beatings no longer phased her. It was not about pain anymore. Pain was expected. By then, that was not what mattered to Roana. Every injustice against her was simply one that she would return. One day. The day came on the eve of a revelation. Something that she never knew, was never told of. A means of buying her freedom. Coins, awarded to those who serve the slavers best, the ones who become their favorites. Enough coin and one could secure their freedom. But there were never hope that a girl like her would become one's favorite. She had never been a favorite to anything or anyone. If she wanted those coins, she would have to take them. When, she did not know. But it would happen. Just a question of when. That night came on a cold, dark night. As the rest of the slaves slept, Roana found herself an old piece of metal. Hardly an impressive weapon, by any stretch, but an effective one all the same. It was a long and tiring night, but as the sun rose once again, Roana left with no shortage of blood on her hands, and all the coins she would need for her freedom. Rather than rest, she sought to secure her freedom from the slavers, but her demand was rejected. Only to the favorites is that offer extended, they said. Even with their favorites dead, it did not mean she deserved it. They told her to leave and she did. They laughed at the foolish idea that she thought would happen. It would never happen, they bellowed. Then they screamed. They cried out for help as the smoke built up within the small building, the flames beginning to spread. It was only a matter of time before smoke and fire consumed everything around them, their only hope of escaping being barred by the same metal bar that a young girl had hoped to secure her freedom with. And so, when the first option failed, Roana resorted to the flames, a tear being shed in utterly delight as she heard the screams and cries begging for help. She simply left. She returned home. And she left again, this time with the money her mother had earned for her freedom. Roana took it. And she took her mother's life. When she looked back one last time, seeing the small hut that her mother's corpse lay in, the flames consuming it utterly, there was not a tear shed. Roana only wished that she could have heard the cries of her mother being burned alive. A shame really, that she was not able to hear that, having to settle for the sounds that came when her throat was ripped open. Some time later, Roana would find herself in a far away land, the Kingdom of Pergrande. There were some that believed that perhaps she sought to find her father, the cutthroat that she never knew, never wanted to know. Quite why she was there, it was likely something that only she would ever know. Discord: naksa Reference: Ryuko/Alisa |
Last edited by Roana on Mon Jun 03, 2024 10:24 pm; edited 1 time in total
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