__________________ Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception. I have taken The Oath of Sangus Most people are not just comfortable in their ignorance, but hostile to anyone who points it out.
Description: The Fey world delights in human children, so Petrichor wasn't allowed to grow much during the years of her captivity. She's still about the size of a seven year old girl, but uncounted years in that magic realm have changed her in myriad other ways. The bird feathers growing around her eyes are only the most visible changes wrought by her captivity, and the quick, darting eyes they frame have seen much more than any child should. Petrichor's skin is mostly pale like alabaster, but has patches that are rough and ruddy. Lithe and fit, her movements are quick and sharp, but also furtive - almost as if she fears getting caught in whatever she's doing, no matter how mundane.
Personality: Whimsical and a bit bird-like. Petrichor is very bright, but has a child's inattention and lack of focus. Her cleverness is one of her main assets, but also can be a major weakness. She's used to being able to use her smarts and quickness to get out of problems, and can definitely struggle when patience and attention to detail are the keys to success.
Background: Feylost
Trait: Like a nomad, I can't settle down in one place for very long
Trait: When I have a new idea, I get wildly excited about it until I come up with another, better idea
Ideal: Mystery. "A secret lost is a tragedy; a secret found is a gift."
Bond: I made a promise to a Fey princess to help a mortal lord in exchange for my freedom. Breaking this promise would have dire consequences.
Flaw: I'm always operating under a tight timeline, and I'm obsessed with keeping everything on schedule
Flaw: I delight in revealing truths that others would prefer hidden, either out of a sense of Fey justice or simple mischief, regardless of the consequences.
History: She was a human girl once, but doesn't remember much about that. She had a name, a family, and a village, but they're all long forgotten. The fairies took her, just like Granny said they would. Granny wasn't Petrichor's real Granny, she didn't have one of her own, but she was really old, like 60, and everyone in the village called her Granny. She probably had a real name once, too, but if Petrichor ever knew it, she'd forgotten it long ago. "The fairies will snatch you up!" Granny had cackled when she said that, and smoke from her ever-present pipe poured from her mouth and nose when she laughed. To the little girl who'd become Petrichor, her face looked like the gates of Hell. Petrichor remembered those things very vividly. "Snatch you right up if you go in those woods." Granny scared Petrichor, but she wasn't scared of the woods. They were so pretty, full of tall trees and colorful flowers. And there were no such things as fairies, fairies were just stories for little kids. Petrichor was seven, she wasn't a little kid, and she didn't believe in fairies anymore. She just loved the flowers in the woods, that's all. And foxes. She really loved foxes.
Now Petrichor knows that the fairies are real. The Feywild, the Witchlight Carnival...all of it. Their world is dark and joyous and beautiful and sad. The Feywild is a place of flourishing decay, where there are no rules and the rules are all iron-clad. It's the most horribly glorious beautiful wretched place there ever was, and Petrichor gave everything she had to finally win a chance to leave. Now she'll give it all to find her way back in.
__________________ I have taken the Oath of Sangus
Last edited by Berith; Nov 21st, 2024 at 01:55 PM.