Post by Minx on Jan 15, 2010 19:13:43 GMT -8
ugh. all that lame basic stuff that no one really cares about. am i right?[/size]
name// Minx
gender// Female
age// 32
birthday// March 2nd, during the Crow Moon and a day before the Crow Festival
species// Shifter – Hunter
affinity// Battle
abilities// Weapon Finesse, Battle Sense, Bull's Strength
artifact// Linen bandages that cover her wrists and lower arms, but do not possess any special abilities.
role// Whatever she feels like being at the moment
alignment// Chaotic good, though her allegiance is unclear
i'm not the representative of the female species, turns out.[/color][/size]
appearance//
Minx is a pretty woman who looks like a mature 25 year old. Her skin is dark (somewhat like an Italian or Indian’s skin would be). Her hair is cream colored and cut short, like a boy’s, and it’s choppy as if someone had sheared it with nothing but a knife. Her eyes are hazel and cat-like. Her ears are pointed like a fae's ears. She’s short, standing at about 5’2”, and her body is lithe and slender. She tends to wear breeches, which are easy to move in, that are cut to just below the knee, a loose blouse that has been cut and modified, which she often ties off at her ribs, which does indeed show off her stomach, and leather boots that are designed to avoid making a sound. A belt hangs cock-eyed around her hips with a pouch hanging on the lower end and a curved dagger hanging from the higher end. Linen bandages are wrapped tightly around both her wrists and lower arms, and she seems to never change them. Hidden in her right boot is another dagger, small and thin. In her true form, Minx looks like a woman made entirely of liquid silver, from her toes to her hair; the silver moves and twists and forms patterns on her flesh that are strangely beautiful.
this is me, and you aren't going to change it. i dare you to try it. it'd be fun to see the end results.[/color][/size]
personality//
Minx is very much a trickster. Her tricks are never cruel or mean, though. She’s very playful, warm, outgoing, and the woman is very likely to say whatever is on her mind at the moment. She’s very creative and she’s good at creating distractions, often using her trickery in this aspect. The shifter is very knowledgeable about anything that relates to survival, both in the cities and the forest. Sneaky and sly, the woman definitely has a mischievous aura about her, though it is not a dangerous aura. She is not one to give up or let others give up, so she is sort of an optimist in this fashion. In fact, Minx seems to be able to perk up almost any low mood with her playful attitude. The woman is very strong-willed, and she is very independent. In the eyes of many who meet her, she is very strong. However, under all of this, there is a cold, pained side to her that she tends to never let anyone see, because she doesn’t want anyone to realize that she can be just as weak as anyone else. She has learned how to blank out her emotions when certain situations arise, but it has been a long time since she last had to do so.
likes//
./ Freedom
./ Getting into mischief
./ Treasure
./ Life in general
./ Connor
./ Friends
./ Vibrant colors and people
dislikes//
./ Getting caught red-handed
./ Her old masters
./ Being bored
./ Anything that is plain
./ Being kept in the dark about situations
you wanna know why i'm the way i am? hun, you don't wanna know me. but if you insist, then go for it. don't say i didn't warn you.[/color][/size]
history//
this is my life - 10 years old
Silent as the night, swift as the wind, she bounded over the roof tops of the small village of Clehon. Most of the leaps were simple enough for her and she cleared them easily, but occasionally the jump would be too far for her to make normally; here, she would cheat and catch the sill of a window or the gutters of the roof and haul herself up, continuing on with her trek. The clouds covered the moon, casting the land in darkness. This was an advantage to the hunter. Climbing her way up to the top of the church, she crouched there, scanning the village.
Ah! There it was!
Leaping off the edge of the church, the shifter child dropped to the ground, absorbing the impact of her fall as she landed by bending her legs just like she had been taught. Rocking back onto her heels for a moment, the girl stood and casually walked down the deserted street as if she had been doing nothing out of the ordinary.
Not a block from her destination, she came upon the local tavern, the Sunken Flagon. There were a few of the usual drunks outside, making a racket and trying to pick fights with each other; however, there was also a group of the locals on the other side, and they all appeared very much sober. As she passed by, the group of four men and one woman watched her carefully, never taking their eyes off her, and she in turn kept her eyes fixated on them. It was a group of civilians, nothing more, but they were all strangely frightening. She had learned that the citizens of Clehon were not all they appeared to be, as everyone was two-faced; they hid behind smiles and plotted your demise. When she could no longer see them out of the corner of her eyes, she tried her best to ignore them, knowing full well that they watched her back carefully.
Finally, she arrived.
The house was like the others in make and size with the only difference being the garden that grew in front of the porch on both sides. Making no sound, the girl crept toward the house, skirting the front door and wall in favor of sneaking around back. Just as she had been told, the back door was broken and therefore didn't lock all the way, giving her an easy way into the house.
She crouched.
Slipping through the house, checking each room as she went, she made her way upstairs.
The floor boards were kind and made no sound as she crept over them. Finally, at the last door, she pushed it open and slipped inside, her cat eyes catching sight of her target. He was leaned over his desk examining a piece of parchment with a list of needed supplies on it, intent on his work. Drawing her dagger from its sheath at her belt and testing its weight in her hand, she carefully crept toward his turned back.
Ten steps away...
Nine steps...
Six steps...
Two steps...
And, suddenly, a floor board creaked, exposing her.
The man whipped around with inhuman speed, catching her wrist as she attempted to fix her mistake. Her long cream hair flew about her as she tried to wrench free of her assailant's grip. There was a sudden flash of silver, then crimson, and she was howling in pain, yanking her bleeding arm free as he released her, drawing it to her chest. Tears formed in her eyes as she dropped to her knees, the pain nearly crippling her. Slowly, forgetting her target, she pulled her bloody arm free from her chest to examine it; a long, deep gash ran down her inner arm from her elbow, curving near her wrist to avoid the vein there, and ending on the other side of her arm. Blood ran down her arm, wrist, and fingers, nearly covering all of the other scars that covered her arms.
Blinking through her tears, she stared up at the man looming over her.
He shook his head at her.
"Too slow, Minx, and not nearly silent enough. Tomorrow, you'll do it again at a different house."
Her other hand gripped her wounded arm, applying pressure so she wouldn't bleed out. The girl sniffled painfully and nodded, drawing her arm close to her chest again. "I'll do it again tomorrow..."
training complete, at last; now comes the difficult part - 13 years old
This was it.
Her heart raced.
All those times she had failed, and all the scars she had to prove it, she was just a step away and he had yet to hear her. He didn't know she was there. For a moment, the hunter felt a thrill go through her body and a grin tug at her lips; no, she had to finish it first, then she could rejoice in her accomplishment.
With a quick leap, she slit his throat.
Or she would have, had the dagger not been guarded with magic to prevent such an accident from happening.
The shifter stepped back, peering up at her master as he turned to look at her, eyeing her. He did not smile, but a sort of smug look appeared upon his face as he reached toward her, running his fingers through her long hair. "Hm... after so many years, you're finally ready. Are you ready, Minx?"
She stiffened as his hand paused at her collar bone.
Slowly, the girl nodded.
He was obviously pleased with the answer.
"Then I assume you're ready for your first assignment. An intiation, if you will. There is a boy not much older than you who has figured out about our secret little organization and needs to be eliminated before he spills about us. Due to the nature of the assignment, failure will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" Minx released the breath she had been holding as he removed his hand, eyeing her curiously. Slowly, the girl nodded, knowing full well what would happen if she failed. The organization would kill her - if she was lucky. But luck didn't seem to work well with slaves.
Slave...
The word made her grimace with distaste.
He did not seem to notice, or he didn't care.
"Good. Now then, let me see that..." He took the dagger as she offered it, removing the magic that blunted the edge in order to avoid injury. They exchanged a few more words before she was sent out, quickly leaving the house. Away from the man, she relaxed and tilted her head back, staring up at the stars above her in silence. So she had to kill that boy... she could do this. It couldn't be hard, right? The others did it with no problem, no qualms, no regrets, so she should be able to do the same.
Right?
---Xx--
Minx had watched him, learned his patterns, friends, habits, schedules, everything. The boy, Daniel Barklyn, didn't take a leak without her knowing about it. She knew what his favorite food was, what he liked and disliked, where he lived. In fact, there were several things about him that she knew, even getting down to the nitty-gritty.
It was time.
Slipping into his house had not been hard.
However, he seemed to anticipate her, because she encountered several traps on her way up to his room, though she always caught them in time to disarm them or narrowly avoided the consequences. So, she was rather annoyed when she finally arrived at his room, choosing to abandon her stealth since he obviously knew that she was there. Pushing the door open and storming in, Minx stopped a few feet away from Daniel, armed and ready for the kill.
He was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, staring at her. The boy was cute, mortal, and probably about 16 years old from his looks. He didn't appear startled by her presence at all, which she expected. The pair stared at each other for several minutes, neither choosing to break the silence. And in that silence, Minx slowly felt her resolve crumbling.
This kid...
Well, he had his whole life ahead of him.
Could she really end his life?
Feeling weak, the girl tried to hide her emotions behind a mask, but she found that she wasn't succeeding very well and that he probably knew that she was having second thoughts.
"Are you going to kill me or not?"
Startled, Minx stared wide-eyed at him, her guard dropping suddenly. He stared back at her evenly, his eyes narrowing into a glare when she didn't reply. The girl shifted from one foot to the other, biting down on her lower lip. Obviously irritated, Daniel rolled his eyes. "Let me make it easier for you. I'm defenseless; but you probably already know that, don't you? You've probably stalked me for a while now. Which means you'll also know that I've done absolutely nothing to deserve an assassination, except know too much. But that's my crime, isn't it? I know about you and your little organization and you're here to stop me from telling anyone."
She hadn't prepared for this.
She hadn't prepared for the sudden onslaught on her conscience.
Minx swallowed the lump in her throat.
How could she kill him?
He had done nothing, as he had said.
But if she didn't...
The girl shuddered at the thought.
The hand that held her dagger trembled as her emotions suddenly went haywire. Was she weak for not being able to block them out like the other assassins could? Minx suddenly realized that she could not kill this boy who sat so fearlessly in front of her, waiting for her to end his life. But if she didn't, she would regret it deeply for her disobedience. Fear suddenly washed over her at the thought of what they would do to her, and she set her jaw, forcing herself to steady her dagger.
Now.
Do it now.
Before your resolve is gone.
Minx rushed forward, bringing the dagger up with a quick slash. Just before his life ended, she saw him stubbornly lift his chin and the fire in his eyes, refusing to give in. And then, when she saw his eyes afterward, so dead and dull, the girl couldn't take it. Blood had splashed onto her clothing. The bloody dagger dropped from her hand just as she fell to the floor, a scream wrenching itself from her throat as her emotions went haywire again.
She had killed an innocent.
For no reason.
To save an organization she belonged to. No, that she was enslaved to.
To save her own life.
She was unsure how long she laid there, curled into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably, dry heaving until she coughed up blood. All she remembered was, finally, finding the strength to grab her dagger and remove herself from the premises.
The murder was blamed on someone else, thanks to the cleaning crew of the organization. Minx didn't speak for a week, resulting in a few beatings when she was ordered to speak and found that she couldn't; eventually, she found her voice and began her assignments again.
Her life continued, as much of a life as it was, enslaved and forced to kill for her higher-ups.
you can't take me, i'm free - 16 years old
It had been three years since her training had been completed. Three years of death, senseless and pointless, by her hands. Her numbers had risen high, so high that she had finally given up trying to keep track of them. For a long time, it was hard on her; she found that each death she caused crippled her almost as if it had been herself that been killed. But, it didn’t bother her anymore, thanks to one of the other assassins. He had taught her both how to block out her emotions and conscience in order to just get the job done and how to store the memories in the back of her mind so they would bother her only rarely when she dug them up.
Was she a bad person?
Or was it just a defense mechanism?
She took in a shuddering breath, placing her hand against the window of the house that served to hide their headquarters. Hazel eyes flicked toward the floorboards near the fireplace, and she murmured a spell that all in her network had been taught, watching as the floorboards warped and twisted until an opening leading to a staircase appeared. Slowly, Minx stepped into the opening and walked part of the way down the staircase before murmuring the spell again, which closed the floorboards back up as well as cutting off her light source. Waiting until her eyes readjusted, she silently made her way down the corridor, turning down another when she reached the end. This one was lit with torches. She continued down the intricate network of tunnels in silence.
Finally, she reached a door and stepped into it.
This was her room.
It was barely furnished, but she had been used to that for a long time. A makeshift bed made of straw wrapped in cloth lay in one corner, and a small pile of clothing lay in the other corner. There was a chamber pot sitting against the far wall.
Crossing the small room to the bed, she let herself fall, watching as some straw scattered across the room from the sudden weight change. Minx stared at her fingers for a few moments, then her eyes shifted to her wrist and upper arm which had been badly mutilated and healed over and over again, leaving a combination of faint and nasty scars. It made it obvious that she was not of higher class, that she was a slave. Grimacing, she tucked her arm against her chest.
Minx hated it here.
She absolutely loathed this place and everyone in it.
Why was she here? How could this happen to her?
Minx had never known her parents. The leader of their network had found her in a far away place, and he would not say where that was. She didn’t even know what her real name was, which was something she had wanted to know for a long time; the others had nicknamed her Minx, because they didn’t know either, and the name had stuck.
Katrina?
Brooke?
Talia?
What was her real name?
Did she even really want to know?
The thought struck her as strange, and Minx began to realize that, no, she didn’t want to know what her real name was. Minx was her real name. It was who she was, who she had always been, and knowing that her name had been Regina or Holly or whatever it was before wouldn’t change that; she was no longer that girl. That realization left her blinking and confused as she began to think. Could they really hold her here? Sitting up, she picked a piece of straw from her long hair.
No…
No, they couldn’t keep her here.
They never could have kept her here.
The only thing that had ever kept her from running was fear of the unknown, of the fact that out there she didn’t have anyone to turn to. This life was all she had ever known.
Why should that stop her?
She was Minx.
Minx.
The beautiful girl that killed in silence.
An assassin.
No… not an assassin. Not anymore.
The thoughts whirled in her head, and everything began to fall into place. Sitting there on her bed, the hunter reached for her dagger before she could lose her nerve, before her plan would fail and she would be forced to continue this life. Holding a strand of long hair away from her face, she pressed the dagger against it, wincing slightly as it cut easily through the strands; the excess she let fall in her lap, where she stared at it. She could feel the freshly cut strand against her cheek. Hardening her resolve as she stared at the lone strand of hair, Minx continue to skewer her hair off until it was shorter than females were normally allowed. The extra strands she took up and quickly began to tie together and braid, creating a rope. Finished with that, she went quickly to her pile of clothes and pulled a long tunic free from the pile, tying and cutting and tying again until she formed a makeshift bag. She stored her new rope in there, and then started to slip from the room, pausing as a thought occurred to her. Glancing back at the clothing pile, she removed a pair of trousers from it, cutting it into strips; those strips she tightly wrapped around her wrists and lower arms. Only then did she exit the room. Jogging silently down the hall, Minx made her way to the kitchen, carefully checking to see if anyone was in there. Pleased that there wasn’t, she grabbed an armful of rolls and salted jerky, storing it all in her bag as well. Satisfied, she left.
Leaving their headquarters was far easier than she expected.
The girl had anticipated having to fight her way out, but no such thing happened. In fact, no one seemed aware of her escape. Grinning wildly, Minx slipped out of the house and rushed toward the wooden gates of Clehon. The guards made no effort to stop her as she charged passed them, flying down the road that led out of town before turning off and leaping into the forest. She ran and ran for hours until her chest was heaving and her legs were sore and she couldn’t run anymore. Only then did Minx stop and let herself collapse in a pile on the ground, coughing as she tried to regain her breath. Even as her lungs and legs protested harshly against her, she smiled.
She was free.
Completely and totally free.
No longer a slave, no longer an assassin…
Free!
---Xx--
Sprinting wildly through the forest, breath coming in short, quick gasps, Minx glanced over her shoulder. A whoop of excitement sounded, and she felt her chest clench painfully in fear. They had tracked her through the wilderness. With each step they got closer and closer to her, as she was slowly running out of energy. Again, she threw a quick look over her shoulder, which proved to be a mistake; her foot caught against an upraised root, tripping her. Minx was sent tumbling and rolling across the ground, slicing up her arms and legs and losing her grip on her bag. Fear shot through her. No!
She rolled onto her back just in time to see one of the assassins leap at her, dagger raised.
Her arms lifted instinctively, covering her face.
A sudden growl lifted into the air. Through the crack between her arms, she saw an animal shape suddenly tackle the assassin to the ground, where the two rolled around. Stunned, Minx could only watch as the animal (it was difficult to tell what it was in the dark) grappled with the assassin until the assassin lay still. And then, before her eyes, the animal began to take a human form, and the girl realized then that another shifter, a werebeast, had saved her. It moved toward her and took her by the arm, hauling her up with little effort. He eyed her for a moment before speaking, his voice gentle.
"Are you alright?"
Dumbfounded, she just nodded.
Another whoop sounded, and the man glanced in the direction it came from, frowning slightly. "Let's go," he stated suddenly, and, still holding her arm, began to drag her quickly away from the fallen assassin. As he passed it, the man scooped up her fallen bag. He let go of her once she seemed to regain her ability to move and told her to follow him exactly.
She did.
The werebeast led her deeper into the forest. And, as they went, the group of assassins dwindle as the forest cut them down with every step. Minx couldn't believe her eyes when the two of them passed by a large plant and, upon glancing back, she watched it release a steam of fatal gas when three of the assassins tried to pass.
Why did it let them pass?
Who was this man?
Finally, all of them were dead, killed by the forest.
Minx and the older man continued to run until they came upon a small camp. Only then did the werebeast slow down, stepping quietly into the camp and beginning to build a fire on the pile of ashes in the center of the camp. She didn't know what to do, creeping forward slowly to watch him tend to the fire. When it was up, the man looked up at her and gestured for her to sit, which she did.
She removed a roll and two pieces of the jerky, eating it slowly.
Minx watched him.
He didn't seem to notice it as he continued to tend to the fire.
At last, once it was going good, he turned to her, resting his elbows on his knees as he examined her closely. "So. You want to tell me why they were after you in the first place?" The girl stayed silent, her eyes locked on the roll she held in her arms which she began to slowly mutilate, tearing pieces off. When it became clear she wasn't going to answer, the man sighed. "Fine, fine, I understand I guess. You don't have to tell me. But, since I saved you and all, it'd be nice to know your name."
She looked up at him and frowned.
Should she tell him?
After a moment of hesitation, the hunter answered. "Minx..."
He nodded, satisfied, and then grinned at her. "That name seems like it'd fit you pretty well. It's nice to meet you, Minx. I'm Henry." Thus began their friendship.
true to my own heart, i find out who i am - 18 years old
Over the two years she had been free, Minx had changed. The timidness and fear she had felt before had altered, giving her an outgoing and confident nature that seemed to rub off on the people she met. In fact, many had asked her if she possessed a bardic affinity do to her way with people. Pleased with her successes at shedding her old life, the woman girl had gone on with her life, enjoying every minute of her freedom in the forest where she now lived.
On this particular day, she was headed to meet the friend that had helped her make those changes, another shifter like herself - Henry. Despite the fact that they were of different species of the shifter race, they had gotten along quite well. Approaching his home with a confident air, she caught sight of him tending to a garden.
A grin spread over her face.
Quickly, she broke into a jog, only to stop short when a woman appeared around the corner and spoke to Henry, who laughed and responded.
What...?
Confused, Minx made her way over to the garden. Henry noticed her before she got there and stood, wiping his hands on his trousers and heading toward her. "Minx!" he exclaimed with a grin, pulling the younger shifter into a hug. She blinked in confusion, still trying to process the other woman nearby. Who was she? She didn't have to wait long. "This is Phoebe, my mate. I wanted you to meet her."
Mate? Wait, what?
Minx glanced from the woman to Henry then back again.
"..Oh," was all that she managed to say, sheepishly folding her arms behind her back. Phoebe smiled at her. Henry grinned, seeming pleased that his friend and his wife had met. Then, he seemed to think of something else, for he turned back to Minx. "There's someone else I want you to meet as well. C'mon," he said excitedly, catching her arm to lead her into the house. Once inside, she was met with the sight of a little boy playing with some bones that had been cleaned. Henry stepped toward the boy, and the child looked up at him and smiled broadly. "Dadda!" the boy exclaimed, stretching his arms out toward his father happily. Lifting the child into his arms, Henry stepped back over to Minx. "And this is my son, Connor." Connor stared at her curiously, then looked back to the bones that had been left behind with an expression of sadness.
Minx spent the day with them. Watching how Henry acted around Phoebe, she felt her heart break, for she had harbored feelings for her savior for a long time now. However, she would say nothing about them; instead, the hunter smiled and laughed and watched the little boy, who she learned was three years old, play. Obviously it wasn't meant to be.
the death of a good friend - 30 years old
She sat cross-legged outside her home in the forest, her hands pressed against the ground behind her as she stared up at the sky, watching the clouds go by. The forest was peaceful today, and the weather was warm. Minx took in a deep breath through her nose, enjoying the sweet scents that the nearby flowers released. She didn't understand how Phoebe and Henry could choose to live in the city, where it smelled and was cramped and there was hardly any freedom for their kind, when they could live out here in the forest. But it wasn't her choice to decide for them; they had a son to protect. Mentally, she counted out what his age would be.
Fifteen.
Wow, time had gone by quickly.
Minx shifted and stood, stretching her arms over her. Turning to head back into her shack, the woman stopped at the sight of a wolf trotting toward her. It wasn't Henry or Phoebe, as she had seen their wolf forms before; maybe it was their son? No... it was just a regular wolf. She watched it anyways, watching it trot up to her to lay a drooled-on note at her feet. It then turned and trotted away, released from whatever spell it had been under.
Confused, she picked up the note, opened it, and began to read.
Tears quickly sprang to her eyes at what it said.
Henry...
Phoebe...
They were dead? Both of them? Their son seemed to have escaped harm, and that she was grateful for, but it didn't help dull the pain that she felt. They were her friends. Anger quickly replaced the pain she felt, and the hunter ground her teeth together, wiping her tears away. She stomped into her shack and gathered up her supplies, fully ready to hunt down the assassin that had killed her friends. Ready, the woman stepped out of the shack and had only gotten a few steps before she stopped dead in her tracks, a thought occuring to her.
What of Connor?
His parents had just been killed. He was probably hurt and confused.
That was the only thing that made her stop and return to her shack, gathering up different supplies for her trip to Illinor City. She would go to Connor, who probably didn't remember her, and help them through this. When she arrived, the woman found out that the boy had assaulted a mortal for speaking ill of his parents, so Minx had to bail him out. Thankfully, over the years, she had gathered plenty of money for when she went into the mortal towns. Minx had been right; he didn't seem to remember her, since it had been several years she had last seen him. Her hand in his, she sped toward the forest, aiming to teach him how to survive.
Then and there, she swore she would make them pay for the death of Henry and Phoebe.
For the pain they caused Connor.
And for the pain they had caused her.
They would pay.
with this water, i wash away the blood that has gathered on my hands - 31 years old
"Do you remember a family of shifters? You killed the father and the mother. Do you remember the boy that you tried to kill but failed? The hurt in his eyes? Do you?"
It had taken her a year, but Minx had tracked them down.
The assassin network she had been a part of in Clehon had been responsible for the death of Henry and Phoebe, since Henry had meddled in their affairs when he saved Minx. Now, only one of that network remained, and he sat cowering in front of her. She had taken down every last one of them, using the abilities they had taught her.
It was almost ironic.
The man stared up at her, remembering the family he had murdered.
Minx stared down at him, her eyes emotionless as she used the technique they had taught her to block out what she was about to do. The assassin looked down, refusing to look her in the eyes. His death was over quickly, and the woman shuddered. She stepped toward the steam that ran nearby, crouching down and dipping her hands into the water, watching the blood come off and sail down the stream to be lost forever.
Now, she could truly say she had washed her hands clean of the network.
They would never hurt anyone again.
Minx would go on with her life knowing that she had killed them and constantly telling herself over and over that it was for the good of the world that they were gone.
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