Zehira

Zehira Al'thor
Status	Active
Race	Human
Gender	Female
Guild	Necromancer
Instance	Prime
Relatives	Murmer

Ershta Zehira Al'thor, Nightmare of Velaka

You have an oval face, ears accented by some animite earstuds dangling night black butcherbirds, unflinching and hardened lurid saffron eyes, a disdainfully scrunched nose and dimples accented by some slender erythraean-hilted stilettos. Your red-streaked void black hair is hip length and wavy, and is worn in a haphazard tangle bound by a rope of briolette-cut night diamonds twined with bloodlace star's tear lilies. You have a ghastly scar on the left arm, pasty white skin painted to look like it is drenched in clotting blood and a partially dried gore and a delicate array of tiny crimson poppies following the lines of a sleek, sylphlike figure.

You are captivatingly compact for a Human.

A nightmare black top hat rests askew on your head, slanting over one eye.

A single black-and-white card juts jauntily from the shadesatin band.

Your left wrist has a tattoo of a crimson eye surrounded by a black sphere.

Drawing of Zehira by the player of Delani

Chaos, it's always about chaos. My mind is nothing but chaos and for a long time that's all it's been. There are sometimes calms before the storm, but it is never easy to be me. It is not something anyone would want to do lightly. To walk in my shoes, to hear the whispers, the words not spoken directly to me. So much chaos. This life I chose, it was of my own doing. Not one person forced me to be what I am, perhaps they drove me to be what I am. Harsh words come and go but I never forget.

Brash, impulsive, cruel, all words I've been accused of being. It was a steep plunge off of that cliff, but my path is my own, my work is my own. There is one light in it all, one moment when the chaos calms. He is the calm in the center of my chaos, he is my person. It may be hard to understand, how that can be, how can I have a person. Once in a lifetime it happens and you have to make sure you never let go. He is my person. He has always been and he will always be my person.

They fear monsters. They run from them. Sometimes the world no longer needs a hero. Sometimes what it needs... is a monster

It has been said that time heals all wounds. I don't agree. The wounds remain. Time - the mind, protecting its sanity - covers them with some scar tissue and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.

You're right. I am a monster. And I've done bad. I've done things you can't even imagine. Horrible, evil, messy things. And I've loved every damn minute. So thank you, for reminding me who I really am.

“MEMORY'S SO TREACHEROUS. ONE MOMENT YOU'RE LOST IN A CARNIVAL OF DELIGHTS, WITH POIGNANT CHILDHOOD AROMAS , THE FLASHING NEON OF PUBERTY, ALL THAT SENTIMENTAL CANDY-FLOSS ...

THE NEXT , IT LEADS YOU SOMEWHERE YOU DON'T WANT TO GO...

...SOMEWHERE DARK AND COLD, FILLED WITH THE DAMP, AMBIGUOUS SHAPES OF THINKS YOU'D HOPED WERE FORGOTTEN.

MEMORIES CAN BE VILE, REPULSIVE LITTLE BRUTES. LIKE CHILDREN, I SUPPOSE. HAHA.

BUT CAN WE LIVE WITHOUT THEM? MEMORIES ARE WHAT OUR REASON IS BASED UPON. IF WE CAN'T FACE THEM, WE DENY REASON ITSELF!

ALGHOUGH, WHY NOT? WE AREN'T CONTRACTUALLY TIED DOWN TO RATIONALITY!

THERE IS NO SANITY CLAUSE!

SO WHEN YOU FIND YOURSELF LOCKED ONTO AN UNPLEASANT TRAIN OF THOUGHT, HEADING FOR THE PLACES IN YOUR PAST WHERE THE SCREAMING IS UNBEARABLE, REMEMBER THERE'S ALWAYS MADNESS.

MADNESS IS THE EMERGENCY EXIT...

YOU CAN JUST STEP OUTSIDE, AND CLOSE THE DOOR ON ALL THOSE DREADFUL THINGS THAT HAPPENED. YOU CAN LOCK THEM AWAY...

FOREVER.” ― Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke