Daeva

[Daeva Timandre]

Name: Daeva Timandre
Race: Akontak
Age: 475 AV (35 years)
Gender: Female

Daeva is an even 6’, give or take a few inches. She has rich, blue skin akin to all of the Akalak brothers that thrive in Riverfall, but sports cascading waves of pure white locks. At 160lbs, she is lean, with sturdy muscles brimming underneath clean skin, not too curvy, and not too flat. Always perpetually in the middle. On either side of her neck gills may be made apparent, a feature granted to her by her mother, in conjunction to her frosty hair and shimmery silver and turquoise scales which spiral down her neck, back, arms and legs. Daeva’s eyes are a surprisingly bright silvery white, further illuminated by the rays of the sun or moon.

On the underside of her wrist is a mark of entwined flames, signifying her as an Azenth.

Languages:
Kontinese - Fluent
Common - Conversational
Pavi - Broken

Gift:
Undecided

[Daeva Timandre]

[

Daeva, the dark sister born in the limelight. She is an insensitive and apathetic soul given form in the body of an Akontak who has no qualms over disposing of unnecessary and irrelevant obstacles that may stand in her way. Citlali looks to her as her guardian; there is an grudging truce between them where Daeva is the unspoken protector of their joined body, but one who can be ruthless, absolutely merciless and is not afraid to shed blood. Daeva is a woman who speaks her mind, blunt and to the point, subtle when the moment is necessary, seductive if the action is called for. She sees her sister as an aggravation at times but rarely holds enough power to rid herself of her for good.

Citlali is an enigma. She was born in the shadow of the dark twin, living quietly in the subconscious of her sister. It was gradual, her appearance after the Akontak’s birth, and Daeva rarely felt her presence throughout much of her childhood. But she was influenced. Oh she was influenced by the steady hand of Citlali, who is calm, patient, and so incredibly hard to anger. She has no real interest in governing the body and allows Daeva to do so for them, although she has never truly tried to wrest control from her either. Citlali holds only gentle words, even in the wake of her sister’s fury.

Born to the Konti named Nokomis Timandre and an Akalak in Mura, it had come as a shock of joy and bewilderment to see a daughter with blue skin a mop of pure white hair. Her father had gone to fulfill his duties in the Knighthood of Syliras, and Nokomis was left to care for their severely sickly daughter, who came into this world frail and weak. She was watched over continuously by members of the Opal Order and House Timandre, where at times bouts of fevers would leave the poor child breathless throughout the early stages of her life. But careful decisions and a watchful eye made sure that the young Akontak would survive her childhood, despite the constant over protectiveness displayed by most of the Konti women.

She was given the name Citlali, and treated like any normal daughter of a Konti. Cautiously taught the arts of crafts and magic, but despite the constant compliments her daughter received for being such a lovely mix of two pure races, there were certain distant family members who had an underlying feeling that there was something odd about little Citlali. She was quiet, always quiet, and rarely reacted to words of appraisal. Sometimes an aunt would catch Citlali pushing other Konti daughters down, and giggling when they began to cry. Why did Citlali act this way? Was she not the kind daughter she believed she would become?

Years would pass, Citlali would suffer health problems until she was in her early 20s, but her personality became harsher, much more blunt and shocking to the calm and content Kontis of Mura. An older Opal Healer named Tiali believed the kind soul in her daughter might be influenced by the underlying dark soul, and she wondered if Nokomis' daughter might be the same way. It was one day whilst Citlali occupied herself with menial chores that this healer approached her with the intent to question.

“Citlali, love,” She said softly, approaching the much taller form of the Timandre daughter, who glanced at her with a look that belied her aggravation, “Why do you act this way? You have been distant, even cruel to your peers. You push them, you insult them, what have they done, daughter of Timandre? Why do they deserve such treatment from you? Where has the kind Citlali gone?”

“There was never such a girl.” Came Citlali’s harsh response, “You are just like the rest of these frail, stupid women. You believed from the beginning I would be kind, didn’t you? You never stopped to think that maybe this blue skin meant something. That I am different?”

“There is no difference between us, only the pigment displays your uniqueness. There is something in you that is influencing your mind, perhaps we should take you to the Opal healers--”

“NO.” It was a blunt cry that escaped her lips. She had tossed the vase she was cleaning to the ground where it shattered into thousands of pieces and splayed all across the floor.

“I’m not SICK. I am not ILL. You believe there’s something wrong with me, and I laugh. I laugh in the wake of your misery. ‘This poor child, what has become of her?’ I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I have always been this way. You women are too caught up in yourself, the fragility of your minds and what you want to believe. There is no kind Citlali. She is buried. She is dead.”

“That’s not true--”

“Oh but it is, healer. You are frightened, and I can sense it.” Citlali approached, towering over the small Konti and eyeing her with glowing orbs of white that tore into her soul, “I protect her from your insanity. Yes, she is here, the kind one you seek so much, but she was not born into this world. She came after, and damn it all if I let her experience this level of pathetic.”

There was something in Tiali’s blue eyes that cried for escape. A single tear trailed down her pale cheek and she stepped back. “You have always been cared for, always been loved, this cannot be your choice!”

“Stop throwing your lies!” Citlali cried. There was a sense of adrenaline that fueled her steps as she slammed her mother into the wall of their home. “All you do is lie. I can sense your shame, it’s on your face and in your words. “ And when Tiali began to speak again the Akontak slapped her clear across the mouth. There was fresh shock on her mother’s face, and her hands trembled.

Calm…

The threads of the light twin crawled into her mind, steadying her hand before Citlali delivered another attack on the healer. The unnamed sister-soul had always been an observer, but now there was reason to react. Citlali stood quiet for a time before turning to exit the home.

“My name is Citlali no longer. It’s Daeva.”

At the age of 28 Daeva was unsure of their destination, but she had heard of the Akalaks of Riverfall and understood, partially, the nature of the two souls. She had given the name Citlali to her lighter self, a name that fit her well, and the days spent traveling in caravans left Daeva wondering if Citlali was growing in strength and prominence. She could feel the light twin’s activity in her mind, and occasionally they would spark a conversation, one that was entirely lackluster and uninteresting in the eyes of the devious Daeva. But the dark twin, amidst her travels began to grow increasingly paranoid of the soul that inhabited the body she had called her own. For the first time, there was a possibility she could lose control, and when she did, would she find herself trapped like her sister?

The threat lingered, but her sister never acted upon it. Citlali would be the voice of reason in the chaotic vortex of thoughts and plans that swam in Daeva’s mind. But she would not be fooled. She was always wary, always angered by her presence. Annoyed, threatened, and most of the days were spent passing snide remarks, no matter Citlali’s reactions. The Akontak traveled the roads of Mizahar, seeking purpose beyond knowing fear.

[Daeva Timandre]

1 mark from Ivak

The story. :

The forest was old.

It smelled of something so distinct, so different than the rest of the forests she’d traversed in her time spent away from the White Isle. Daeva was unsure if this was comforting or just another indicator of the risks one took to escape something they so abhorred.

And she was alone. Straying far from the sanctity of cities for several days, unsure of her direction or purpose. There were strains of anger that fueled her steps as she walked, constant, as if she meant to crush the insects beneath her feet, or stir up dust clouds that would whirl into torrential tornadoes capable of disposing of this entire vexing forest.

She had settled herself beside a stream, illuminated, white eyes jerking from disturbance to disturbance of the brush and the foliage. Daeva felt a hand on her shoulder at all times, and it was more irksome than unsettling. The akontak managed to get a fire started, and it blazed in the coming veil of darkness, licking the sky in all its fiery glory, for a lick of what Akajia had to offer.

The akontak moved to wash her face beside the stream after having felt the strain of her travel finally weigh her skin down. She bent low, cupping her hands and splashing it in her face, and watched as Leth’s light glimmered and reflected her own image. But there was something odd, something transitory in the existence of her reflection. Daeva stared, scrutinizing her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, but finding nothing, not a scar, not a blemish. What could it have been?

She cupped her hands once more, cleaning the side of her neck and forehead, until her eyes strayed to the water once more, and what she found were eyes of bright cyan, full of wisdom and inherent purity that for some reason, deathly frightened Daeva. It was the smile, directed at her so impeccably.

“NO!” She shrieked, and Daeva splashed the water, the ripples erasing any remnant of the lighter twin in it’s surge through the stream. Her hand trembled, and from her stance above the bank, Daeva cautiously turned to look at her reflection once more, only finding herself.

I’m the voice inside your head you refuse to hear.

Why do you fear me?

Daeva’s eyes widened, because as her reflection was staring back at her through the wall of water, it merged and morphed, into the image of Citlali. It was no different from her own face; they were one and the same, but in Daeva’s mind, those beautiful eyes, those kind lips, they were horrid, they were imperfect, something to be rid of not to achieve.

“Get out of my petching head.” She hissed at the reflection, “You don’t belong there. Not in my mind, not anywhere in my body.”

The reflection laughed, a silvery laugh that echoed in the forests that seemed to loom over her, shutting her in.

Your fear is what feeds me, Daeva. I am all you fear and more. I am all you wish NOT to become. I am kind, generous, pure. You cannot be rid of me, as I am a part of you.

“LIAR.” She cried, “I can be rid of you and I WILL be rid of you. Why do you think I left Mura? They wanted to destroy what was me, and replace me with YOU. That will not happen, bitch, not while I still control this body.”

You refuse to hear.

You think I do not have the power to overcome you, Daeva? I can do it as easily as I can crush you. But doing so would have me reverting to what you are. A child that has yet to acknowledge the presence of a sister.

Daeva’s body shook as she screamed at the reflection, who spoke so fluidly through the ripples that contorted her lips, “Liar… You’re a liar. You don’t have the power, that’s why I’ve been in control for so long.” Was she reassuring herself or stating the truth? “You don’t have the power, Citlali. You never have and never will!”

I’m the face that you have to face, mirrored in your stare

You have issued a challenge, Daeva. Now you will witness what I can and cannot do.

The reflection shimmered and elevated, the waters slowly dripping off the form of a woman who rose from the stream, an akontak who’s face reflected Daeva’s own, and whose lips now spoke with her own voice. Daeva stumbled up the bank, but she was met only with a wall of trunks that blocked her path. The fire licked the air, sending sparks sizzling to the ground nearby.

“Stay back!” She shrieked, “Go back into the shadows!”

“I do not tread in shadow, I tread in light.”

Daeva curled on the ground, tears freshly streaming down cheeks of deep indigo as Citlali’s gentle hands turned her face to look into the white hue of her eyes.

“You are the shadow, Daeva. You are what’s meant to disappear. You are the illness in this body.”

“No, no, no…” She sobbed, “I am me. I am me….”

I’m what’s left, I’m what’s right

I’m the enemy

“And, I, Daeva… I will be the vindicator.”

Her words ringed in the Akontak's ears, surging in her head like a tidal wave. Citlali was brimming with determination, one so strong it fueled her words and her actions, and her hand shot forth, sending waves of light that enveloped Daeva whole. A single hand touched the dark twin's forehead and in an explosion Daeva found herself pushed back, further into her mind so forcefully she attempted to shout. To push and shove and fight her way to the dominance she craved. But Citlali held fast. She was laughing, tossing her head back and echoing her laughter in Daeva's thoughts. The light consumed Daeva, and it sucked her back, into a vortex of shadows.

Daeva’s scream echoed in the trees just as the fire blazed grand and mighty, sending a wave of flames that enveloped Daeva’s arm and licked at her skin. A warm touch, a comforting one was sent through waves on her wrist. A voice echoed through the flames, one that felt otherworldly, wise and powerful.

"This is the first step to the final truce between you and your sister. You have what it takes to overcome the anger and fear that so consumes you, but there's more to it than just a mark. There always is. Find the in-between."

And as if a blazing inferno had surged through the area, the trees parted themselves, the image of Citlali vanished in the fires of renewal and strength, and Daeva was left where she had begun, in a forest that groaned from pain and defeat.

The akontak quickly gathered all of her belongings, dousing the fire that had burned so vigorously through the night and left the mystic forest. It was only after she caught sight of a city ahead that she glanced down at her exposed wrist, to see the mark of a flame entwined on the underside, pulsing with heat.

[Daeva Timandre]

Name: Masou
Age: 3
Species:Gray wolf
Gender: Male

Bio: Masou was found by Daeva whilst on her travels in the wilds. A lone pup whose mother had been poached by men on their journey through the forests. He was deathly ill, and on the edge of starvation, and only Daeva's desire for a hunting companion motivated her to take the pup under her wing and find him something to eat. She nursed him to health and trained him as well as she could, treating him more like one of the Ivaski of the Konti Isle she'd seen so often and even occasionally interacted with. Masou came to bond himself on Daeva, and although he might go off on his own on occasion to hunt or do as he pleases, he always returns to the hand of his mistress at one time or another. Masou knows the call to which he is summoned, and always finds a place to rest beside the Akontak.

[Daeva Timandre]

Auristics 12 (10RB, 2IG)
Suvai 33 (30SP, 3IG)
Dual Wielding 11 (10SP, 1IG)
Shielding 11 (10SP, 1IG)
Philosophy 2
Detection 1
Teaching 3
Observation 2
Rhetoric: 2



Lore:
Konti Isle
How to raise a wolf pup
Religiousness of the Drykas
Heightened Understanding of Strider Bonds
Letting Citali Navigate Her Own Conversation
Witnessing the Bond of Eldon and Vanah
Kendall (basic)

• Set of Clothing (Cotton cloak, high boots, linen shirt, leather pants, leather belt)
• Waterskin
• Backpack
• Set of Toiletries (comb, brush, razor, soap)
• Food for a week
• Eating knife
• Flint & Steel
• Gray Wolf - 75gm (SP)
• Studded Leather -25gm (SP)
• Suvai (SP)
• Heirloom: Suvai (SP)
• Fine dress (Strapless) - 20gm
• Leather gloves - 5sm
• Linen blouse (Ruffled) - 1gm
• Linen blouse (yellow) - 1gm
• Sandals - 2sm
• Velvet tunic - 2gm
• Leather shoes - 3sm
• Basic Squire equipment (Earned IG via Chevaliar)
  
  600gm(No Housing*) - 100gm = 500gm
  - 24gm 10sm = 475gm 0sm 0cm
  
  *Is currently living with the Squires in their barracks in Syliras.

[Daeva Timandre]

3rd, Winter 520AV Hope is for pansies (Kendall/Sulavik)
10th, Winter 510AV The colors of our words (Abashai)
68th, Winter 510AVBe careful she bites (Various PCs)
73rd, Winter 510AV The past comes back to haunt us (Edalene)
84th, Winter 510AVSlampigs aren't pretty (Denen)
85th, Winter 510AV I long for rain (Eldon, Aron)
87th, Winter 510AVDrinks all around, or maybe just for him (Murdoch)
10th, Spring 511AV As the rush comes (Raiha)
20th, Spring 511AV Getting in a lather (Dayn)