Post by ENFAI SIAO on Jun 23, 2015 23:13:42 GMT -6
ENFAI SIAO
17♦ FEMALE ♦ DEMISEXUAL♦ SHEEP ♦ SHOP ASSISTANT AND HERBOLOGIST ♦
APPEARANCE
Species: Half-Spirit (Kirin)
Distinguishing Features:
Distinguishing Features:
- Tends toward wearing boyish clothes and an accident with a tree has left her hair at a shorter level than usual. With her dislike of standing out, Enfai prefers earthen tones and simplistic patterns.
- Scars dot her lower-back, and tail, from an incident involving an ancient willow in her childhood.
- Her father's features become apparent in the following features:
- Satyr-like Hooves - The cursed girl has two elegant cloven hooves where many children have curving toes. Elegant dark brown fur wraps around ankles and trails behind the out-of-place digits.
- Ears and Antlers - Jutting from her skull, the length of a hand laid sideways, are two pairs of branch-like antlers. When spring is at its fullest, flower buds can be seen on the tips of each horn. Beneath these, shorter and coated in velvety skin-colored fur, are elongated and slightly pointed ears.
- Tail -and Claws The spindly appendage flowing from her rear is tipped in a chocolate colored tuft of fur. The appendage is an easy view into her emotions and twists when the girl is nervous. Tipping each finger, harder than nails, are tiny little claws.
- Scales - Wrapping around joints, sometimes prone to itching, are earthen toned scales. For the most part, congregating in her lower back, these features are covered by clothing.
PERSONALITY
Some, including her father, believe she is far more deserving of a feline moniker. Enfai, though initially timid, happens to be a being of both curiosity and abundant intelligence. Keen green eyes, when not directed at the tips of hooves, happen to quickly pick out the details of a situation or architecture. Loneliness drives the girl to learn. This is a fact that those she trusts may find annoying. When engaged in conversation, the half-spirit has a tendency to ramble, back-track, and fill terrifying silence with whatever random tidbits come to mind. Some issues have arose from this such as the tortured ears of her animals.
Born from two parents that did not truly desire a child, Enfai has developed a poor sense of self-esteem as a result. Born from a drunken mother’s ire, and absentee father, came an almost constant fear of abandonment and mistakes. Far worse than any enemy, is her own mind and it becomes apparent quickly. Constant aversion of her gaze, typically to the ground, make her self-derision and muttering all the more apparent to the keen onlooker. The paranoia drives her constant walking nightmares and darkly vivid imagination. The constant attention to superstition and anxiety about offending gods, which she lacks true belief in, extends to some of her more positive traits.
Simply put, Enfai is a golden-hearted soul with generous tendencies and a constant urge to assist others. Whether it is with helping an older woman cross the busy road, or assisting someone in finding missing cat, the half-spirit is one of the first to awkwardly volunteer. Some part of her hopes it will make her life improve and another adores the brief moments of gratefulness and embers of happiness that flicker in her chest. In these times, the teenager tries her hardest to succeed, persevere, and overcome. At certain moments, brief and flickering, it becomes apparent that something protective and self-sacrificing lurks beneath the surface. The urge to assist others has resulted in shadowing a local healer when she is away from her father and home. To be fair, something darker lurks beneath the urge to protect others.
Prone to lying, duplicity, cynicism, and mental sarcasm, Enfai is far from a saint. Bitterness, about herself and family, lurks deep within her soul. While she would never wish harm upon any being, her mind makes use of its ability to indulge in sarcasm and little white lies. Telling people the truth, when it may hurt them, is far from her desire. Self-esteem drives her to isolate herself from others and typically believe in the worst of them. At the same time, she desperately desires to trust in all beings and is willing to forgive almost any affront. People do things for a reason. People hurt her for a reason. She hurts people because she is, in her words, an unworthy little fool.
HISTORY
“Momma, why do I exist?” Large green eyes, reminiscent of a dew-coated leaf, blink up with that accursed curiosity. Claw like finger-tips gently tug at faded sleeves.
A gentle hand, calloused by recent months of hard work, lift to gently stroke the tell-tale red curls. A laugh emerged like wind-chimes. “It is merely because I drank too much.” Something about that, the way it was said, made the little child curl away with a frown. Did it give you a stomach ache?
Enfai did not understand, for many years, why her mother had spoken in such a way. In truth, the half-spirit wished she never had. Childhood ignorance could be a vehicle of bliss.
Opening the tale are three items: a bottle of strongest wine, a young noblewoman far from home, and a spirit. The woman that birthed Enfai, one of beautiful auburn hair and deepest blue eyes, was not known for her reputation of chastity and dislike for the drink. One small mistake in a forest glade, trapped in beautiful emerald gaze, left the woman with a gift. Offended by her family’s reaction, though the child would have had a home, was met with hostility from the hot-headed lady. At the same age Enfai begins, sixteen years old, her mother ran from home to start anew in a town far away.
In this place, away from other influence, the young child was raised. When the baby emerged into the world, screeching like some sort of demonic Sidhe, her mother was horrified. When the midwife turned to count the toes upon the beautiful bundle, a noise of alarm was heard. All of the images of a perfect little life, wih a perfectly normal little daughter, crumbled for the woman in the bed. Resting upon pale legs were two pair of cloven hooves. Regardless of her distaste for her daughter’s heritage, for her own mistake, the woman would raise the child with as much love as was possible. A small cottage on the outskirt of a town, amongst the frogs and hum of distant dragonflies, became home. Sometimes, when seated outside, she would watch as her mother penned letters. Other times, sent to her room, she would listen to the banging on the wall the woman occupied. Why did mother never sound that happy around her?
The child, shoved aside by many villagers for hooves and tail, spent much of her time in solitude or amongst the family’s animals. When her mother smelt of drink, anger and bitterness apparent, the redhead would try her best to hide in a fence or cower. All of the words said in those times, the blame, drag on her to this day like a cloak built of shame and spiteful spittle. In those days, the child merely felt scared and hurt. The only friend without fur in that time was a man that was just as lonely. A former soldier retired by injuries and a tired old soul. Unlike the other men, he never visited Aubre’s mother alone, and spent much of his time encouraging the child and indulging in all of her silliness. It was this man, Gin, that gifted her with her first book and began to teach her of plant magic. Mother, seeing it as a way to indulge in other activities, began teaching in earnest. In that time, sat between her mother and the friendly man, Enfai began to blossom. Stories were told. Stories of heroes and magic and boxes.
A speck of blood upon a napkin. The cough of death. Skin paler than the trees of ashen wood. When the doctor arrived, face solemn, the diagnosis was spoken away from the bright-eyed girl. A letter was sent on fastest horse to the lost family requesting a home for the child. Large words were thrown around: illness, death, and passing away. The little girl, six at the time, did not truly understand—she just knew she had to help! When her mother fell one day, alone, the little satyr flew from the house and straight to that of the doctor. Sobbing and crying, she guided him into the door. “I am truly sorry, young one. There is naught I can do.” Wide eyed, the child retreated to her room. The nurse outside, worried, found herself unable to enter.
The stories would help! Heroes! Dark gaze settled upon the box of wooden lacquer. Desperate, Enfai found strength in scrawny limbs. Claws scrabbled against ribbon. Clang! Lid fell backwards as she jumped from bed with a cry. “Momma! Wait!” By the time she arrived, clinging the accursed package in hand, her mother was gone. All that was left was a statue. A sheet. A doctor. A shout followed at the sight of box upon the floor.
Enfai, frightened, fled to the only safety she knew: Gin. By the time her mother’s family had chosen its representative, arriving to reclaim its child, the redhead had vanished into a larger city. Cursed. Lonely. Morose. Time may heal wounds and still leave scars.
Gin, while not experienced with children, found himself unable to return the little girl to her true home. A life such as his, filled with violence and killing, seemed all-the-brighter for this child. Buying an old herbalist’s shop, he began his time as an entrepreneur and tried to forget those times. He was a father now. The redhead grew beneath his gentle hands into the generous woman he adores today.
Adulthood, on dark hooves, is approaching. Enfai, as she offers another herb to a customer, cowers at the thought.
OTHER
PLAYER BACKGROUND. The site was found via advertisement a little bit after its opening. I am certainly glad I clicked.
PLAY BY. BEAST MASTER AND PRINCE - TIANA – ENFAI SIAO
PLAY BY. BEAST MASTER AND PRINCE - TIANA – ENFAI SIAO