Sia
Pet Information
Pet Name: Sia
Owner: STAR
Theme / Type: Wintercursed Braenon
Born: February 2, 2011
Gender: Female
Disease(s): Love Sick, Bites: 3
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 3 / 3
Strength: 2
Defense: 2
Speed: 4
Intellect: 5
Misticpower: 2
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]
Pet Profile
Nicknames | Flower
Age | Around 17
Personality | Sweet, kind; though slightly scatterbrained. Slowly being driven mad by her... condition.
Flower raised her hand and waved it around jovially; a sweet sign of greeting towards the hundreds of villagers that had gathered to see her. They shrieked and hooted in delight at the face of their beautfiul Queen, joy overcoming all their senses. Flower couldn't have looked happier, either: Her red lips were pressed in a wide smile, her sleek black hair was swept back effortlessly but still classically. Her colorful dress reminded everyone of the spring time approaching, of another hard winter lived through. The small honey blossom in her hair matched her lovely name. No one could be more perfect, no one more a symbol of strength and goodness. If only they knew of her demons, destroying her from the inside out...
Flower was, at the beginning, perfect. Beautiful, with sleek hair and shining eyes, she made for a fitting Queen. Her personality could only be described as pure; she was kind, an active participant in all charity events and eager to meet and socialize with the crowds that were bursting to recieve her. An only child, she was destined to become the ruler of her country alone. Normally, people would have been outraged with this fact, but due to Flower's obvious intelligence and acceptance of the public and their opinions it was more then happily welcomed.
It began when she was thirteen. Whether it was a curse from the a jealous witch; or a simple mental illness she wasn't sure. She was at an event; a dinner for the prestigious and wealthy. Voices. They poked at the back of her head, rang in her ears. Urging her to massacre all those surrounding her. She assured herself she was simply tired or developing a cold, nothing more. She tried to ignore the rough drawl that demanded she kill; and close to screamed in terror when her hands twitched toward her thick steak knife and violent images appeared in her head. She managed to fight it off, but it was strong; the urges so powerful at times she had to sit on her hands to control herself. She came to the realization this wasn't normal; wasn't plausible. Not even the most delirious sickness created those voices, so direct and so cold...
Flower figured the voices would fade quickly. That she, maybe by some feat of hope, had a simple sickness or an odd patch of mind and it would go away. But it didn't. She became desperate, worried. She contemplated and came close to telling people of her ordeal, but it would only panic the nation over which she would soon rule; as well as land her in a mental facility. When she became Queen, her past would not be marred by such nonsense, she had to be perfect. It would simply not do. So, Flower coped, though it wasn't easy and she had once come as close as to grabbing a knife and standing up abruptly in the middle of a very important meal. She had been barely managing for a year when another horrific thing happened.
After a long day of preparing for a meeting with a royal family of another country; Flower had been perfected in every way by possible by her stylists. Her hair swept up with colorful artificial flowers dotted in it; a full dress striped skillfully. After finally being told to relax for a bit before it was time for Dinner, the first thing she did when she arrived in her spacious room was walk towards the large mirror that took up most of the space on the wall to the left of her room. When she arrived at the mirror, she was shocked to see large, blue... blobs surrounding her. Looking like slabs of ice, they floated around her silently. Her first reaction was to wonder. How had they gotten there? Hadn't her stylists seen, hadn't they noticed? Was it just her imagination running wild? How could she hide them if they were visible to everyone? Were they related to ... the voices?
After an hour of pacing around the room, glaring at the mirror, pinching herself and closing her eyes, her time was finally up. She had to go down to the feast, and she knew she couldn't dare wear a bulky shawl to shield the globs. She crossed her fingers as she made her way to the large downstairs of the castle, hoping and praying luck would be on her side for once. She opened the large doors to the room where the meal was to be held, and stared at all those receiving her to process their reactions. None showed shock, fear or worry. She only saw smiles and nods of greeting, the occasional look of admiration. She managed to straighten out her jumbled thoughts throughout the meal; all she knew was the blobs were only visible to her. No one else detected them. She was close to sure the blobs were related to the voices that even now raged loudly in her head. Someone developing murderous whispers in their head and having floating blobs of matter surrounding them? How likely? Flower wanted to cry in desperation. Was she really going mad, or was it something else? She was determined to find out.
Revelry
|