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Isis Hain :: Female :: Wyrmling; Nacre :: Female :: Air
Topic Started: Feb 5 2014, 06:43 PM (313 Views)
Zinc
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The Owl Waife
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[align=center]Disarm you with a smile
And leave you like they left me here
To wither in denial
The bitterness of one who's left alone
Ooh, the years burn
Ooh, the years burn, burn, burn

I used to be a little girl
So old in my shoes
And what I choose is my voice
What's a girl supposed to do?
The killer in me is the killer in you
My love…
[/align]

Character Number- 17 I think…? Oh god I’m losing track help me (Candidate Week IV)

Name- Isis Hain

Age- 21

Gender- Female

Sexuality- Heterosexual, extremely picky

[align=center]Posted Image[/align]

Appearance- When you first spot the woman, it seems that more often than not she spies you first. Alert and aware, glimmering blue eyes are captivating and sharp, alluring in the soft features they have been nestled within. Porcelain face smooth and without flaw, slightly touched by the sun to color it to warmer shades, and graceful arched brows soften the tenuous fragility that her otherwise doll-like features might give off. Pale blond hair hangs in untamed waves around her face, framing it like some work of art. On many an occasion one might even be capable of finding it artfully pulled back into a graceful style that keeps it out of the way of the day to day tasks that the young woman goes about. Sometimes a braid, other times a graceful coil. Though they appear to be the work of handmaidens, Isis actually has the skill of coifing her own hair should the need arise, and has never lowered herself to the basest of styles such as the ‘pony tail’. She can think of nothing more distasteful than her head looking like the rear end of a horse.

Willowy grace is what Isis is comprise of. She is a woman who seems light, and airy, but when she moves that false frailty that she seems to be crafted of gives way to the gracefulness of motion that she seems to have picked up in her years alongside the upper crust and their games she’s navigated. Every motion, every movement is suited to a purpose, and she seems to contain a confidence to her actions that causes those with lesser hold on their intentions to clear out of the way so that she can step forth in their stead. Despite her less than grand height, standing at a wispy five foot five, she commands the attention of any good aristocrat, and has the presence of a giant, demanding the eye to follow as she moves.

Even as she moves regally and acts with the same presence of one of aristocracy, Isis seems to follow the same pattern of thought in their taste for garb that is amongst the cutting edge and catches the eye. Isis has always had an eye for the pleasant things, and a taste for the richer aspects of wardrobe, and thanks to her brother has never been left wanting. As a result, most of what she chooses to wear may be considered quite stunning in a modest sort of way, flattering to her slightly curved figure, enhancing what is already there. Her tendencies tend to migrate toward effeminate with little inclination towards much else unless a situation directly requires it. She has even mastered the art of riding horses in skirts and dresses, but she is not adverse to wearing breeches or leggings if it is absolutely necessary. The next thing to understand about Isis is her tendency to accessorize. She will always be wearing at least one piece of jewelry, but the thing to understand is, though she enjoys the fineries that the world has to offer, she understands subtlety to a degree as well, and tends to gravitate towards smaller pieces, even if she does stare longingly at the rest from time to time.

Despite the deceptiveness of her graceful motions and her love of all things feminine and beautiful, this woman is by no means ‘soft’. She has skill with weaponry, and has, with some assistance from outside sources, crafted her own tools with which to shed blood should such things be necessary, though she prefers to leave such things to her brother to deal with. Her favored tools are leather bracers with metal plating, though they extend farther down to cover both her palms and the back of her hands. To a trained eye or perhaps a dragon, these steel riveted tools are quite horrifying. The leather itself is dragon-hide, tough and strong, taken from a fallen Taint, and to accent were the fangs of the fallen beast himself, capable of rending apart a foe even in death. Though only those Isis points him at. Aside from this, Isis has varying skills in things such as poison play as well as in the art-forms of swordplay, though the latter has never been her strong suit, and has always been for show though she can hold her own for a short time, the skill acquired mostly for buying time or for distraction.

Personality- If you were to describe Isis in one word, that word would probably be ‘viper’. She’s got the coy smile and the charming demeanor, but she’s got plenty of venom just waiting behind her winsome smile to bring you crashing down and she really isn’t afraid to use it on any she deems fit for the occasion. On many an occasion, she appears to be more the socialite than the traitor, and is deemed a charming acquaintance and friend by many. She tends to play up the friendly demeanor and ear to listen, though most of this is for show. Any true deep friendships that Isis makes are few and far in between, most efforts exercised are saved for the purpose of finding and garnering information to be passed on or used at a later date. That’s not to say however, that she doesn’t enjoy being around other people, if only for the excuse of exercising her abilities to ‘befriend’ as well as for the simple pleasure of having someone pay attention to her, even if it means she has to do the same in return.

However, possibly as a throwback to her childhood, Isis has an ingrained dislike of nobility. If she so much as hears the words ‘Lord’ or ‘Lady’ or what have you as your title before your name upon introductions, though she may act friendly, she seems fairly more…dismissive and cold. She’s learned in her life that the rich are more often than not, just another group of people that look down on the unfortunate, which has become a perspective of more irony and hypocrisy given her current state of affairs now a days.

In times where she is not expected to put her trickery and deception to good use, Isis is more withdrawn and tends to keep to herself. She observes mainly, perhaps where her initial skill of learning secrets and putting them to use came from. She also has a keen wit and enjoys sharpening her mind with creative puzzles as well as learning new things. When it comes to the Academy and all that it has to offer in a wellspring of knowledge, she’s reveling in her element. Knowledge is power after all, as their adoptive father once used to say.

And if there’s one thing that Isis certainly appreciates, its power. And not always in the manner where she respects it either, no, more or less, she covets it. Perhaps ingrained into her by her brother and his own desires to garner and deceive, she’s grown used to the finer things in life, and knows that there’s only one way to get more of it, by wielding the biggest stick. This is where her and Samael’s entry into the military originally spurred from. There is only so much they can do as mortal woman and man, but with a dragon bonded, not only will they have added longevity to add to their repertoire, but an elemenetal force at their backs to aid them in their endeavors. Though it will doubtless not be that simple, Isis is more than willing to give the procedure a shot, and though she and her brother are understanding of the fact that if things don’t work out this time, they’ll seek their answers elsewhere amongst the Taint, she has a higher preference for the Academy and the bounty it offers than the stinking mud-hole in which the Taint sire their young.

As it is, Isis is quite fond of her sibling, and though her aloof demeanor may indicate otherwise while she’s in his presence, she is very protective of him. Not in the overbearing sort of way, but rather she will confront him to his face with blasé words if she thinks his ideas are stupid and will get them both killed. In the face of woman fawning, she offers little more than cold glares, but is otherwise unthreatened by them, figuring him incapable of much feeling for any female aside from her when he feels like doting from time to time. After all, his last marriage was merely a ploy for more power, so she feels little threat from any that he decides to display affection to. As far as she’s concerned, it’s all a con in of itself and she’s fine with that. She doesn’t always follow where he leads, having a mind of her own, but her whims are heavily swayed by his opinions and his own decisions in most cases.

Rank- Wyrmling

History- Compared to where she and her brother sit near the top now, Isis and Samael were quite close to the bottom, if not on it, when they were born. Though Lihn was considered a prosperous place to live, all the cities that lined the river that heralded it’s inland ports were merely leeches, trying hard to live off the lifeblood that it’s economy brought to them. Unfortunately, not all people managed to maintain the highest walk of life. When you live in a small town of nobodies, you don’t see much work, and you don’t see much coin. Such was the fault of Isis and Samael’s parents, it seemed. Their father a sailor struggling for work and their mother doing the best she could when he was absent trying to bring home coin. Isis was brought into a world of poverty that her brother had already spent four years enduring. Those early years still stick in her mind like a brand, a reminder of what she and her brother managed to elude by luck and fate’s intervening hand, and something she never wants to go back to.

Not long after she had turned three, Isis and Samael’s father left by boat, presumably on a job, leaving coin to their small family to survive upon until he returned. But whether by a con of the man’s own devising or ill fortune, he seemed to vanish into thin air. Days passed, then weeks, then months, and it seemed that the family slowly began to accept that he wasn’t coming back. No news came of him from those who had known him that frequented their small river docks. The event itself was a bit hard for Isis to grasp, but even as young as she was, she understood the concept of abandonment. Being left to fend for herself. She and Samael did that for themselves every day in the absence of their mother when she, too, went out and sought to scrape by for the three of them.

Their father going missing seemed to hit their mother the hardest, and it became more and more clear as the years went by that she was slowly losing the battle to grief and the strain of the world. Then like their father before her, one day she simply upped and vanished without a trace. Isis and Samael awoke one morning to it simply being the two of them, and like with their father’s disappearance before, her absence bled from days to weeks until they finally accepted that she wasn’t coming back. When they were older, they would speculate that perhaps she had run off to join up with their father somewhere, free of them both. More inclined to be together somewhere than to have to continue to struggle supporting two mouths to feed. Whether or not this is the truth remains to be seen, but Isis holds no love in her heart for her mother or her father.

In the months that followed, Samael brought in most of their means of survival, though Isis pushed herself to help provide as well. It was a tough job for them, young as they were, but it seemed for a time that things might get better if they could manage to survive through the oncoming winter when things got a bit scarcer. If they could figure it out on their own for their first year, then perhaps they could do it again and again until they found out how to get out of the backwater town and earn real coin for real food they hadn’t filched. But unfortunately plans don’t always go accordingly, and on a run involving the two of them stealing fish from a small freighter, they were caught. Isis was certain that this would end with both of them missing their hands or in the stocks or even drowned in a lazy bend in the river where the currents ran deep and hid bodies for weeks.

But instead, they met Lor.

Brought before the merchant who had a sly eye and a charming personality that seemed to flow smooth and sweet as poisoned honey, he saw something in the two of them that Isis is grateful of possessing to this day, lest she likely be dead in a gutter somewhere. The old merchant took them under his wing, more or less adopting them into his own business under the precedent to teach them so long as they both earned their keep and followed the rules he laid out for them. It was a blessing, even if it was something for Lor’s own benefit down the road. It was better than starving in the depths of some backwater, forgotten town.

Isis and her brother took to the training of social manipulation and conning deals like ducks to water, and, if she might say so herself, she thought herself damn good at what she did. She and Samael sometimes working individually or in tandem, managed to amass their own sources of income that they began to split amongst both themselves and Lor, sometimes skimming a bit more off of their profits than they should, though Lor was always favorable enough to return the favor. It was a game fueled by the winsome smiles of adders and cobras, the losers were always the weak-willed, and the winners were always Lor’s business and the siblings that were his protégés.

Things seemed to be going wonderful…that is until they weren’t anymore.

An older gentleman, but by no means that old, it appeared that Lor’s rich lifestyle had meant he had also indulged overly in the fineries that it had to offer. A love of rich foods and wines had led to what was likely as not some form of internal complication and the man simply passed away in his sleep one day. Upon this discovery, shareholders in the man’s company took what they can and ran, while the siblings did the same, quick to grab what they could before the rest of the scavengers took the rest. They were abandoned once more, but this time they were hardly defenseless and youthful as they had been this time. Her brother was a man grown now, and she was well on her way to being the same soon enough.

With Lor’s teachings at their backs, and the small amount of funds from his now broken empire they had amassed and absconded with, they began to carve out their own kingdom of lies, deceit, and treachery, breaking ground in places they’d never before gone, and preying on the weak to make themselves the strong. There’s no room at the top for those who can’t bear to stand on others, after all, and Isis saw it as merely removing those lesser beings to a position where they might be more comfortable. She wasn’t afraid of heights nor power. And her brother certainly wasn’t.

Three years of crafty and careful work and they had created their own empire that seemed nearly as fruitful as Lor’s had been, with homes and estates spread about Sekkai’s lands to several corners of the country. Though there was always the Taint interfering, aside from minor set backs, they continued to keep their fingers dug into both the east and the west of the continent, putting their heads together for their next hits and jobs that would garner them the highest yields, and as they bided their time with smaller games, they began to plot something larger than the two of them had ever done before. Isis found it both nerve-wracking and exciting, though all emotions leaned heavily towards the latter, and the former she would never admit to her brother.

The initial steps of their plan to overthrow and infiltrate a small village on the plains mostly involved Samael and his guile. Isis was left to sit back and organize the details behind the curtains as the young man dyed his hair black and slunk into the small civilization to woo their young princess away from the fools. Isis could only watch in amusement from the shadows as ‘Konran’ did his job all too well, sweeping the young Tejani off her feet and dazzling her with all the charm and grace of a cobra mesmerizing it’s prey. She almost felt sorry for the clueless girl…almost. Moreso, she was rather disgusted that a woman could just…throw herself at a man like Tejani did. She’d played the part that Tejani was now willingly indulging in, and she’d not liked it one bit. Most men were useless to Isis and her own games and schemes unless they had something to offer her or something to be taken. She tended to do the craftier work behind the scenes, and enjoyed the shadow-play more than the center stage where her brother seemed to thrive.

Planted in the community of the village, Isis, then ‘Miya’ was left to watch as Konran eloped away with the young bride of the village and set to work in the girl’s absence to begin embezzling the profits of the village to her and her brother’s own coin purses. The work was mostly quiet, but as the years went by, it became clear that the village was beginning to struggle where once they had not, and ‘Miya’ was on the verge of suspicions from angry, honest workers that were looking for a place to lay the blame. Seeking her brother upon their estate, the two deviants held a harried conversation, with Isis urging her brother that now was the time to cut ties and clean up the mess that they might have left lest they be tracked by any vengeful souls.

‘Konran’ gave her clearance to finish the job as she saw fit, and slipping away, the dark-haired ‘Miya’ sought out her means of making the final bit of money and clearing evidence that she could find. Enlisting southern slavers from the desert of Essam, she pointed them to the village, for which she was awarded money per head of every man, woman, and child they removed. So swift was their assault that there was little chance for struggle. Any accidents were swiftly dealt with by Isis and those whom she and her brother employed. Cattle and herds were sold to merchants and caravans, crops followed suit, and fields were left fallow and empty. The village had fallen silent, ghostly, and like a ghost herself, Miya faded out of the picture entirely, leaving a blonde haired orphan and viper of a sister in her place to return to her brother’s estate, only to find that things had not proceeded as planned on his end.

Their last end to tie had escaped without Samael’s realization, the little princess was loose. She was estranged from her family, Samael had assured her the threat was little. Isis was not wholly convinced, but she and her brother came to an agreement to shift their location to another estate, leaving their current one abandoned as they relocated. Several months passed in quiet as they enjoyed the spoils from their latest acquisitions, including several herds of horses with fine bloodlines that her brother began breeding for sport.

But as with all sharp minds, stillness began to dull and chafe, and the two began to speculate on where might be the next best locale to strike, though they both agreed that things could not proceed as it being just the two of them as it had been for so long. Contemplation led to the suggestion of seeking out the Academy to stand for one of their dragons. There were few who could argue with a hand that wielded elemental power behind it. Isis could only agree. Signing onto the Academy as a candidate would be little more than another game wherein she and her brother would play the part of strangers and infiltrate to get what they wanted, just as they had every other time before. Hopefully things would prove fruitful for both of them the first time around. Due to their constant meddling in the siblings own estates and trade lines, the Taints had become a rather despised faction to the youngest Hain. But if push comes to shove…power is power.

Pet(s)- Pickpocket’s Game, aka “Joker” A Silver Andalusian stallion given to her by her brother.

The Dragon

[align=center]I knew you were
You were gonna come to me
And here you are
But you better choose carefully
‘Cause I, I’m capable of anything
Of anything and everything

Make me your Aphrodite
Make me your one and only
But don’t make me your enemy...
[/align]

Name- Nacre

Age- >1 ((Hatch Date: March 7, 2014))

Gender- Female

Element- Air

Parents- Air Narcissa x Air Zeal
[align=center]Posted Image
Art by Nim!

Height: 15 feet, Length: 48 feet, Primary Wingspan: 86 feet, Secondary Wingspan: 37 feet
Vocal reference[/align]

Appearance- [This must include where the crystal is kept.] (2 full paragraphs minimum, remember, one paragraph equals about six full sentences!)

Personality- Mercurial, Grandiose, Importuning
(2 full paragraphs minimum, remember, one paragraph equals about six full sentences!)

Siblings
-Earth Karst
-Earth/Air Prometheus


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[align=center]Yes pls.

Accepted![/align]
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