Name:
TBN. . .something lovely, and resembling a rose. Rose in Korean is Jangmi, but it doesn't really fit.
Perhaps, Asami? No, I want something random yet fitting. . .or perhaps inspired from a story. . .
P R I M R O S E
(From Hunger Games, Ga'Hoole, and my lovely PPS owl~ and from the word 'Rose' and the beautiful flower. Quite fititng, too. You can call her Prim or Rosey.)
Personality:
Beautiful as the rose markings that curls around her limbs, she is sought after among males. The rose-markings reflect her personality: Delicate, soft and fragile. She tries to help wherever she can, and wouldn't mind going out of her way in order to ensure that other Daeets are content.
Considered as the calm, loving protector in the group, many Daeets have asked for her opinion in a pinch.
There is, however, one crack in her otherwise seemingly flawless personality. A rose does have it's thorns, after all. The crack is caused by a lonely and an abusive childhood. She is afraid of being alone, and paranoid to the point where it is worrisome. She gets panicky when things change.
Much resembling a rose, she surely is delicate and lovely. And again, much like a rose, she is slowly wilting.
History:
Even before her birth, her parents knew she would be a beautiful one. Born in the North Faction, the biggest of all, everyone thought she would have a great childhood.
Her mother was dawn-colored, and quite stunning, with unique, rose-like marks covering her velvety violet fur. Her eyes twinkled in a lively, friendly manner. However, one flaw in her beauty was that she was weak. She suffered from many illnesses. . .even common colds and coughs could harm her fatally, and often she reached points of near death.
Her father was. . .the problem. He was a stunning daeet too, with brown and green markings, and a magnificent and gorgeous handsome features. His eyes glowed cold and proud, with a faraway, distant tint to them that nobody really understood. Prim's mother had fallen for that look, and soon they had become mates. Yet, Prim's mother had made the wrong choice. The distant and cold look was there for a reason, and not something she should have fallen for.
[Now, it's inspired from a chapter from Five People You Meet in Heaven]
Parents affect their children. Always. If children are like glass, they stain them, break them, or, in lucky cases, clean and polish them til they glow and shine with a luminous light. In Primrose's case, she was not that kind of lucky kit. In fact, her glass was completely shattered.
She was born the only one of the litter, and looked startlingly like her mother. She caressed her with all the care she could muster, and named her 'Primrose' after the yellow flowers that grew during that time of year.
The day her father returned from a long journey, Prim's mother presented her new daughter to him, her eyes shining in hope and joy. She expected something, a praise, from her mate.
However, all he said was, "A daughter. Another mouth to feed; not a son."
And he left. Shocked and bewildered, her mother became very protective of her, and Prim grew up quite well with her mother. She became a lovely, rose-marked female with a flawless, glass-like personality; like a rose. Delicate, soft, and gentle, with a wise mind and a benevolent desire, she was popular and looked upon in joy and honor. She was happy, of course. But her father? She couldn't remember him.
"Mother," she asked one day. "Where is my father?"
Her mother just blinked and stammered, "He. . .he's gone, dear."
He wasn't.
The day Prim reached the age of two, when the primroses began to bloom, he returned. He had changed. His eyes were mad and furious for an unknown reason, and he stormed through all the forest and snarled at pasing daeets. Prim heard the news from her friends and shivered in terror and horror. Her father? This creature?
She felt a tremor of uneasiness as he arrived to her and her mother.
"H. . .hello," she said as cheerfully as possible, with a kindhearted smile. She couldn't be biased, could she?
He ignored her and snarled at her mother: "Do you know what trouble I had?"
He was so frightening, so horrible, that Prim had no choice but to bolt into the woods. She shuddered in the forest, which seemed a bit too ominous now, and forced herself to sleep. She had horrible nightmares; nightmares about her father, her mother, and her kind friends and all the thing she cared about disappearing into chaos. . .
SHe woke with a start, panting and sweating heavily. The sky was full of gray, dark, and mournful clouds, and she could hear distant thunder rumbling.
"Mother!" she cried.
She plunged into the woods, ignoring the thorn and twigs that nagged at her pelt. SHe tore herself through all the obstacles, and in an indaeet speed, she had reached her home.
"Mother," she called. "Mother?"
For an odd reason, she knew her cries would never be answered. She felt a shiver, and was afraid to think. Everything, everything told her that her mother was gone, forever. . .[supposed to be dead, but I thought it was a bit violent and weird so I just deleted it ;D]
Thunder cracked, and Primrose whipped around. There was her father, with an evil smile on his lips.
"You," Prim growled in a shaky voice.
Her father motioned for her to follow. As terrified and weak, and sorrowful as she was, Primrose had to obey, or lose her own life, perhaps. Shuddering in shock and fear, she cast a longing look at her mother and followed her father, keeping a far distance from him. Her usually sparkling eyes were literally trembling in terror.
He led her to the other side of Mackthor. To the Darkness. As mad as he was, he knew that he couldn't live in that place again, after what he had done and his horrible reputation.
"Where are we going?" Prim asked tentatively.
He didn't answer. Primrose faced two horrible things; neglection and violence.
She was often left alone in the dark, ominous place, with no friends at all, no daeets, no birds, no butterflies. . .her father disappeared to nowhere, leaving her crouching in the dark place. Alone. She needed company, but could have none. SHe had to fend for herself during most times, and started to care less about her now dirty and ragged fur. Only a faint hint of the rose marks was left, but she didn't care. Sometimes, someone named Thanatos, Deiliah, or Blitzen, Koxec(yeah!), and a smaller one named Bianca would wander around. The first four were terrifying, and were definately not good company. Bianca seemed okay, but Prim never had the chance to speak to her. Besides, she looked scared herself. So, instead of asking for company, she shied away and sulked by herself.
Secondly, she faced violence. The few times her father was near her, he would go looking for trouble.
Once, she greeted him nervously, only to see that another daeet was lurking by. Her eyes lit up and her tail shook in the joy of having a new friend, but her father thought differently. He growled and whipped around, and when the stranger neared he snarled. The stranger said he meant no harm, but Prim's father battled him viciously.
"No!" screamed Prim. She ran to the stranger and blocked him from her father, but, her father shoved her aside and kept attacking. Prim tried and struggled to pull her father off, and managed to let the stranger escape, but with fatal wound. It wasn't that once. It happened, over and over again, and Prim would stare at her father's blazing eyes, wondering when those would turn against her.
Those events by her father led Prim to be overly worried about being alone, and as beautiful and kind and great as she was, there was always a terrified, dark side of her that she never really likes to talk about. Something that her eyes turn dark and frightened. . .
Love you Horned!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3
Perhaps, maybe, she can be a good companion to Bianca after all...they're really different, like, female opposites. . .Bianca's humble and nice, while this one is unsure of herself a bit, and quite beautiful. Both are benevolent, so, yeah, they'll make awesome friends.I hope that was 3 long paragraphs. . ?? And YES I WILL make her join RP, I guess the story was kind of a blurb. . ?