Zehira: Difference between revisions
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''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. It may be hard to understand, how that can be, how can I have a calm in the storm. 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...'' |
''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. It may be hard to understand, how that can be, how can I have a calm in the storm. 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...'' |
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''Never letting go of chaos sinks you into |
''Never letting go of chaos sinks you into a storm that swirls around you like a neverending hurricane. The calm inside the center of the chaos,g at times gets swept away. It's not a thing that's expected, but through unknown expectations sometimes comes a solid center. She said 'You smell like poppies.' I grunted and said 'Because they are beautiful yet deadly.' The storm still raged, even with the solid center that came.'' |
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Revision as of 11:43, 9 June 2018
Zehira Al'thor | |
---|---|
Status | Active |
Race | Human |
Gender | Female |
Guild | Necromancer |
Instance | Prime |
Relatives | Agalea, 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. It may be hard to understand, how that can be, how can I have a calm in the storm. 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...
Never letting go of chaos sinks you into a storm that swirls around you like a neverending hurricane. The calm inside the center of the chaos,g at times gets swept away. It's not a thing that's expected, but through unknown expectations sometimes comes a solid center. She said 'You smell like poppies.' I grunted and said 'Because they are beautiful yet deadly.' The storm still raged, even with the solid center that came.
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.
She is so lovely she could kill you without you even noticing it. A monster girl who knows when to kiss and when to kill.
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.
I've proved my point. I've demonstrated there's no difference between me and everyone else! All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. You had a bad day once, am I right? I know I am. I can tell. You had a bad day and everything changed
― Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke