Essentials
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Height and Weight: 170 cm, 57 kg
Birthday: 45th of Winter, 494 A.V.
Birthplace: Ravok
Appearance Evarista is easy to overlook, but hard to ignore once you start paying attention to her. With a stature on the tall side, a lanky figure, deathly pallid complexion, long black hair and impossibly dull blue eyes, she gives off an uncanny vibe. Obviously well-groomed and cared for, but somehow still seemingly unhealthy. The vacant stare behind half-closed eyelids makes her look perpetually sleepy, or at least not entirely present. She possesses a posture, manner and movement of ostensibly aristocratic elegance, but is in some ways dismally awkward, rigid and clumsy. Thin and colorless lips hardly move on the rare occasion she speaks in her smoky, humming monotone. The near-total absence of natural wrinkles on her expressionless face suggests someone who hasn't smiled or frowned in years.
Her fashion sense is like the rest of her: easy to overlook, but hard to make sense of once you do start looking. She can never be seen wearing any colors other than stark black and white. Her wardrobe is clearly made of expensive silks, but is unfashionably simple and conservative in design. Any jewellery and other embellishments that would be expected from someone of her standing are glaringly absent. Her feet are adorned by polished leather flats – unusually unimaginative, and quite harmonious with the rest of her.
Her aura tells a different story than her appearance. A terrifying, disgusting, pulsating, bizarrely warped mass, showing in patches a monstrous turmoil and a corpse-like stillness, along with a slew of other qualities that positively do not belong in a human, or more sincerely speaking, in anything at all. Contrary to the rest of her, it's nigh impossible to miss for anyone who can see it, but a very easy thing to turn away from and hope to never see again.
Personality Evarista represents the rare type of individual that has survived in the harsh world of Mizahar while being a complete deadbeat.
Born into luxury and privilege, she had the best imaginable position to carve out a good life for herself. Unfortunately, she turned out to be a real good-for-nothing. She's not good with words, she's not good with numbers, she's not good with chisels, needles, hammers or weapons. There are few people who have no qualities at all, but they exist. Evidently.
Evarista hates humanity. Above all, Evarista hates her own humanity, and yearns to escape it. This is perhaps the only endeavor in her life that she has been moderately successful in. Having discovered Morphing, she works on curing the human condition by repeatedly twisting her body into the most grotesque and alien forms she can find.
Despite being rather young, Evarista is already showing alcoholic tendencies. Staying sober is becoming increasingly difficult, especially when having to deal with other people face to face. She's also looking into trying drugs. Living to a ripe old age was probably never part of the plan.
Evarista's family, and indeed anyone else, know next to nothing about her. This is less because she's good at subterfuge and more because no one gives a crap. As someone who hates receiving attention, she quite enjoys this state of affairs.
Evarista has no pride. She's not burdened by her social and educational failures, and has no drive to live up to any duties or become an upstanding citizen. She doesn't feel that she owes her family anything, and her siblings' occasional expressions of contempt get only sardonic responses.
Evarista hates responsibility, and will do whatever it takes avoid getting saddled with any. For the same reason, she's reluctant to make promises and will break them as soon as they become inconvenient. She won't help or support anyone in a situation that requires actual effort from her side. Appealing to her sense of compassion or justice is useless because she has none.
While not particularly violent, Evarista is a dangerous individual. She doesn't care much about money and power, and won't go far out of her way to get them. However, she is profoundly sadistic. You would not want to find yourself in a situation where she has you by the short hairs.
History Evarista was born to Sitanos and Milina Nitrozian, making her a part of the Nitrozian main branch. The pair's other young children played together as all normal children do, went outdoors, wanted to explore the world around them, and formed their own little social hierarchy, complete with alliances and feuds. Evarista refused to participate in anything. The only thing she cared about was finding various crawlies around the house, putting them into jars and neatly lining them up on her windowsill. Worrisome.
When she was old enough for schooling, the truth turned out to be worse than Sitanos had dared to fear. His daughter was an imbecile that couldn't do anything right. Business skills like negotiation and accounting, creative skills like painting and music, physical skills like crafting and fencing, even basic housekeeping skills like sewing and cooking... no matter what anyone tried to teach her, nothing stuck. The total inadequacy was appalling, especially compared to her many brilliant siblings.
Sitanos decided to do one last thing before he gave up, and that was to enroll her into the Institute of Higher Learning. Something smooth and low-risk such as Auristics would surely be a good fit. Maybe she had a hidden talent for magic all along! Alas, that wasn't the case. The Auristics instructor took an immediate dislike to the girl due to her laziness and ineptitude, but she didn't care about that. In fact, there was something else that had stolen her attention.
At the student library, she came across books detailing Morphing, a form of magic to alter the shape of one's body. This was her first contact with something that catered to her hidden urges of removing herself from the human environment that she had no place in. The books also contained a wealth of text in Nader-Canoch, which appealed to her for the same reasons: it's alien nature.
Every day after the Auristics lesson, she cooped herself up in the library, turning the pages of those books dreamily. Fantasizing about becoming the nigh-surreal beings in the pictures and stringing together the ancient words. It was a sort of happiness. Unfortunately, it didn't take very long before her instructor politely asked Sitanos to stop wasting everyone's time, and Evarista's enrollment at the Institute was cancelled.
It has become completely clear that she was not fit for any kind of work. But that was alright; everyone can't be a winner. Rhysol willing, there may yet turn up a niche for her. Until then, she had better lay low and avoid embarrassing the family. While nothing of value would be lost if he decided to kick her out on the street, Sitanos was not quite that cynical.
Suddenly left alone, Evarista enjoyed the freedom. Having taken a cursory interest in books while at the Institute, she asked her father for a book. On the front page, the author claimed that his stories were based on true events, but they read more like fairy tales. The script was elaborate, and there were colums with Ancient Tongue transcriptions attached. A rather opulent form of entertainment, though not unbefitting Sitanos. The text bored her quickly, but the pictures were neat.
Having soon gotten weary of such intellectual pursuits, Evarista discovered the wonders of wine and liquor, getting drunk alone in her room every day. Having nothing better to do, she caught an orb weaver in the hanging garden behind the house and kept it in a jar on her windowsill for old times' sake. Being an overgrown child with no obligations felt fantastic. It seemed that things were about to get nice and comfortable again.
And that's when the morphing began. She didn't meditate much on it, she didn't particularly care about bugs anymore, and she hadn't even consciously decided on it, but eventually it just started to happen. After having enough to drink and staring at her brighty striped prisoner, her fingers seemed to turn the same color. She thought it was the alcohol at first. Well, the alcohol was probably a large part of it, but the changes themselves weren't a figment of her imagination. Every evening, she idly observed how strange mutations crept across her body, being gone when she woke up in the morning.
After getting reasonably accustomed to that routine, she eventually got the idea of trying to entertain herself with the phenomenon. Climbing out of the bedroom window at night, she found it suprisingly easy to climb up on the roof using the hook-like spider appendages. Relatively easy, anyway. And quite fun. She has accepted the numerous bruises and tumbles into the cold canal as part of the experience.
Once she had enough courage to try doing that in sober condition, she began to notice that she wasn't the only one who liked to stay up at night. Tiny strips of light and quiet voices leaked between closed shutters, and the subjects discussed were, understandably, not for her ears. She learned many embarrassing anecdotes about her family members while dangling from the drain pipes outside of their windows those nights. Some of it could even be called blackmail material. Fortunately for everyone, she wasn't brave enough to get creative with the information, so she continued eavesdropping just for the voyeuristic pleasure of it.
It didn't take long before she expanded the radius of her nightly excursions to the nearby buildings and alleys, though she didn't dare to venture any farther than that. She didn't see the need, either. The more secrets she found out about anyone, the less and less she thought of them. The outward image of her siblings and parents used to make her see them as truly superior and beautiful people. But once peeled back a little, everyone's glamour and puissance turned out to be a bluff. It was a huge letdown.
There was no room for despair, however. At least not for any more despair than she already wallowed in. The ubiquitous person was a lost cause, and Evarista's only reason to cry was having to deal with that ubiquitous person every day. She couldn't run away from the ubiquitous person, because she herself was one. There would be no peace made with that fact. The quest for the alien would continue, and she'd follow that tiny yet ever-burning hope until it brought her to an exit.
And if there was no exit, she'd make one.
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Evarista Nitrozian 
by Evarista on August 2nd, 2016, 6:14 pm 
