Rosalyn Delane
01-30-15, 12:02 AM
Name: Rosalyn Delane
Nickname/Alias: Rosethorn
Age: 20
Race: Half-Celestial Human
Height: 5'9
Weight: 190 (Including wings)
Occupation: N/A
Personality: Rosalyn at first glance has an open and welcoming demeanor about her. Her smile almost never leaves her face, and her bouncy attitude can often be contagious. Though when she is alone with her own thoughts she begins to slowly become dark and brooding. If a person walks in upon her whilst she is in one of these moods they are faced with her true self. The self that is lost in a sea of creatures and beings that are nothing like her. This causes her to seem very awkward at times as well.
History: Rosalyn never knew her mother or father, having been told that her father had run off, and that her mother had died at childbirth. Rosalyn had been born with small, black wings, causing many people to be apprehensive about her. She would have most likely died from neglect had the local priest not believed that he could save her soul from the devil. He had taken her into his home, cared for her, and loved her like she were his own.
Behind the scenes, however, her “Father” made her life a living hell. He twisted the feeling of love for her, perverted it, and tortured her. Nearly every day she would be taken into a small room with her father where he cooed to her softly and stroked her hair lovingly to lull her into a state of calm, then he would take a sharpened knife and saw at the beautiful wings that adorned her back. Almost every day she would cry and scream for someone to help, and every day she would go unheard. Slowly she began to think that pain was the meaning of love. That the pain was love within itself, and that pain was a very good thing. When she turned twelve she began to stop screaming when he took the blade to her wings. She would simply sit there and allow him to take away the one thing that she felt was beautiful about herself.
There had only been one part of each day that she had enjoyed, and that had been going outside for an hour to play with the one child that had viewed her as something other than a monster. This boy had been a sweet little redheaded kid. He had also been chastised from the other children because of the odd colour of his hair, so they had taken solace in their shared alienation. For that hour they would forget about the ugly world that they lived in and just have fun playing games together. Though one day, when she was fifteen, he stopped showing up.
For three days she had arrived at the same spot and waited for him, but each time she was left by herself. She hadn't known what had happened to him until she had gone into the chapel with her father, deciding that it would have been nicer than to be locked up in the house to await for her father to take the knife to her once again, and she found that a funeral had been arranged. When she had made her way to the coffin, being avoided by the other attendees, she found her redheaded friend had passed away.
That day she had wanted to fly away into the heavens and return her friend to his rotting corpse, to find some way to get the only person that had been her friend back. She had run outside, tearing at her dress, attempting to get it away from her wings. When she had finally managed to bare her torso she had stretched out wings for the first time, nearly groaning at the satisfaction of finally being able to stretch them in the sunlight. Cries of awe and disgust had followed her reveal, but she hadn't cared. At that moment all she could think about was finally using muscles that had never been used before to fly into the sky.
She had nearly succeeded in rising four feet into the air before her father had grabbed her and threw her to the ground face first. Then he had put a knee to the area just between her wings and had begun to cut them again, muttering things like “Devil's child” and the such. After that day she had been locked into a single room, unable to leave, unable to tell what time of day it was. Her only companion then had been music and song. Unable to express the pain of losing her best friend, and what little freedom she had, she had to find a way to release all the pent up rage and sadness. So, in between waiting for her father to cut her wings from her, and for when she was tired enough to sleep, she composed songs. She often heard her father sit outside her door just to listen to her sing. Some days she even thought that he kept himself from cutting her wings off just so that he could hear her sing a little longer.
This continued on until her eighteenth birthday, the day when the priest had finally decided that it was time for his little girl to find her way in the world, devil stricken or no. Rosalyn had taken the opportunity without so much as a glance back.
For the next few years until the present day she had traveled all over the land of Althanas, finding out who she truly was, practicing her flight, singing in places that would allow her kind within, and becoming an overall more cheerful person. She now resides near Corone.
Appearance: Rosalyn possesses a strange, otherworldly grace not unlike a cat's. Her hair is a beautiful brunette with bright red streaks running through it. Her eyes are a deep green, almost appearing black. Her wings mark her as half-celestial, spanning about twelve feet in total. They are a gorgeous ebony black colour with very subtle silver highlights within them. Rosalyn has an unmistakable cheerfulness about her, that can make her skin glow with an almost golden light. Though when she is alone and left to her own devices a very drastic change in facade happens. She becomes very unfocused and almost somber, making her skin turn almost grey. This mood is not unlike a person who has become numb after a funeral.
Skills
Voice of the Ancestors: Rosalyn hears her forebears words, thoughts, and song in the very air around her. This can rarely lead her to creating new songs and songspells depending on her alignment. Light leads to healing and buffs, while Dark leads to debuffs and attack songs.
Celestial Singing: Taking after her father, Rosalyn has the skill to sing nearly as well as her Celestial parent could. She may still be prone to an off-pitch note at times, but she is mostly straightforward.
Excellent Archery: Rosalyn doesn't believe in killing people, preferring to talk it out rather than to fight, but she has taken up Archery as a hobby and often spends time shooting at targets to keep her skill up.
Stealth: Because of the aversion she finds with almost every person she meets she has learned to suppress herself and nearly blend with the crowd. If someone were to look directly at her she would most likely be spotted, but if she is able to make herself unnoticed then she can slip by without a problem.
Abilities
Flight: Rosalyn has been gifted with wings from her Father's bloodline, and as such she can take flight and average in speed of about twenty miles an hour, twenty five if she is in an adrenaline induced panic. In battle she can only use this to occasionally dodge away from an attack by taking a leap backwards with the help of her wings, but she will rarely use this ability.
Bardic Grace: Rosalyn has the starting abilities of a bard. She has only one song.
Emotional Swaying: As Rosalyn sings this song she can change the mood of others depending on her own mood. If she is happy and joyful, the people who listen to her become the same, or if she is dark and raging the person listening can become angry and give a chance of that person attacking another person.
Touch of the Celestial: Rosalyn has the ability to mend minor wounds, such as deep cuts, or very nasty bruises. The more power she exerts, the higher a wound she can mend. (She can only use this ability four times a day. Each use of the ability, if combined, is a more exerted use of her power, making it a slight bit more powerful. This also makes her unable to use the ability the maximum of four times a day.)
Equipment/Weapons:
A Staff: This staff is a shiny black colour with a red ribbon tied where the grip is and a raven head carved into the top with ruby's for eyes.
A Satchel: A simple leather satchel.
A Bow: A bow made of yew, complete with a quarrel of fifteen arrows.
3 Dresses: Each dress is similarly made, only in different colours. Each one of them has a modification to where the backs of the dresses are open and come down to a point at the small of her back.
A Leather Bound Book: A semi-large tome to keep her songs in.
Nickname/Alias: Rosethorn
Age: 20
Race: Half-Celestial Human
Height: 5'9
Weight: 190 (Including wings)
Occupation: N/A
Personality: Rosalyn at first glance has an open and welcoming demeanor about her. Her smile almost never leaves her face, and her bouncy attitude can often be contagious. Though when she is alone with her own thoughts she begins to slowly become dark and brooding. If a person walks in upon her whilst she is in one of these moods they are faced with her true self. The self that is lost in a sea of creatures and beings that are nothing like her. This causes her to seem very awkward at times as well.
History: Rosalyn never knew her mother or father, having been told that her father had run off, and that her mother had died at childbirth. Rosalyn had been born with small, black wings, causing many people to be apprehensive about her. She would have most likely died from neglect had the local priest not believed that he could save her soul from the devil. He had taken her into his home, cared for her, and loved her like she were his own.
Behind the scenes, however, her “Father” made her life a living hell. He twisted the feeling of love for her, perverted it, and tortured her. Nearly every day she would be taken into a small room with her father where he cooed to her softly and stroked her hair lovingly to lull her into a state of calm, then he would take a sharpened knife and saw at the beautiful wings that adorned her back. Almost every day she would cry and scream for someone to help, and every day she would go unheard. Slowly she began to think that pain was the meaning of love. That the pain was love within itself, and that pain was a very good thing. When she turned twelve she began to stop screaming when he took the blade to her wings. She would simply sit there and allow him to take away the one thing that she felt was beautiful about herself.
There had only been one part of each day that she had enjoyed, and that had been going outside for an hour to play with the one child that had viewed her as something other than a monster. This boy had been a sweet little redheaded kid. He had also been chastised from the other children because of the odd colour of his hair, so they had taken solace in their shared alienation. For that hour they would forget about the ugly world that they lived in and just have fun playing games together. Though one day, when she was fifteen, he stopped showing up.
For three days she had arrived at the same spot and waited for him, but each time she was left by herself. She hadn't known what had happened to him until she had gone into the chapel with her father, deciding that it would have been nicer than to be locked up in the house to await for her father to take the knife to her once again, and she found that a funeral had been arranged. When she had made her way to the coffin, being avoided by the other attendees, she found her redheaded friend had passed away.
That day she had wanted to fly away into the heavens and return her friend to his rotting corpse, to find some way to get the only person that had been her friend back. She had run outside, tearing at her dress, attempting to get it away from her wings. When she had finally managed to bare her torso she had stretched out wings for the first time, nearly groaning at the satisfaction of finally being able to stretch them in the sunlight. Cries of awe and disgust had followed her reveal, but she hadn't cared. At that moment all she could think about was finally using muscles that had never been used before to fly into the sky.
She had nearly succeeded in rising four feet into the air before her father had grabbed her and threw her to the ground face first. Then he had put a knee to the area just between her wings and had begun to cut them again, muttering things like “Devil's child” and the such. After that day she had been locked into a single room, unable to leave, unable to tell what time of day it was. Her only companion then had been music and song. Unable to express the pain of losing her best friend, and what little freedom she had, she had to find a way to release all the pent up rage and sadness. So, in between waiting for her father to cut her wings from her, and for when she was tired enough to sleep, she composed songs. She often heard her father sit outside her door just to listen to her sing. Some days she even thought that he kept himself from cutting her wings off just so that he could hear her sing a little longer.
This continued on until her eighteenth birthday, the day when the priest had finally decided that it was time for his little girl to find her way in the world, devil stricken or no. Rosalyn had taken the opportunity without so much as a glance back.
For the next few years until the present day she had traveled all over the land of Althanas, finding out who she truly was, practicing her flight, singing in places that would allow her kind within, and becoming an overall more cheerful person. She now resides near Corone.
Appearance: Rosalyn possesses a strange, otherworldly grace not unlike a cat's. Her hair is a beautiful brunette with bright red streaks running through it. Her eyes are a deep green, almost appearing black. Her wings mark her as half-celestial, spanning about twelve feet in total. They are a gorgeous ebony black colour with very subtle silver highlights within them. Rosalyn has an unmistakable cheerfulness about her, that can make her skin glow with an almost golden light. Though when she is alone and left to her own devices a very drastic change in facade happens. She becomes very unfocused and almost somber, making her skin turn almost grey. This mood is not unlike a person who has become numb after a funeral.
Skills
Voice of the Ancestors: Rosalyn hears her forebears words, thoughts, and song in the very air around her. This can rarely lead her to creating new songs and songspells depending on her alignment. Light leads to healing and buffs, while Dark leads to debuffs and attack songs.
Celestial Singing: Taking after her father, Rosalyn has the skill to sing nearly as well as her Celestial parent could. She may still be prone to an off-pitch note at times, but she is mostly straightforward.
Excellent Archery: Rosalyn doesn't believe in killing people, preferring to talk it out rather than to fight, but she has taken up Archery as a hobby and often spends time shooting at targets to keep her skill up.
Stealth: Because of the aversion she finds with almost every person she meets she has learned to suppress herself and nearly blend with the crowd. If someone were to look directly at her she would most likely be spotted, but if she is able to make herself unnoticed then she can slip by without a problem.
Abilities
Flight: Rosalyn has been gifted with wings from her Father's bloodline, and as such she can take flight and average in speed of about twenty miles an hour, twenty five if she is in an adrenaline induced panic. In battle she can only use this to occasionally dodge away from an attack by taking a leap backwards with the help of her wings, but she will rarely use this ability.
Bardic Grace: Rosalyn has the starting abilities of a bard. She has only one song.
Emotional Swaying: As Rosalyn sings this song she can change the mood of others depending on her own mood. If she is happy and joyful, the people who listen to her become the same, or if she is dark and raging the person listening can become angry and give a chance of that person attacking another person.
Touch of the Celestial: Rosalyn has the ability to mend minor wounds, such as deep cuts, or very nasty bruises. The more power she exerts, the higher a wound she can mend. (She can only use this ability four times a day. Each use of the ability, if combined, is a more exerted use of her power, making it a slight bit more powerful. This also makes her unable to use the ability the maximum of four times a day.)
Equipment/Weapons:
A Staff: This staff is a shiny black colour with a red ribbon tied where the grip is and a raven head carved into the top with ruby's for eyes.
A Satchel: A simple leather satchel.
A Bow: A bow made of yew, complete with a quarrel of fifteen arrows.
3 Dresses: Each dress is similarly made, only in different colours. Each one of them has a modification to where the backs of the dresses are open and come down to a point at the small of her back.
A Leather Bound Book: A semi-large tome to keep her songs in.