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Full Name:Lovedaia Boulderbelly.Previously Amadeus.
Nickname/Alias:Prefers no nicknames. But she has been called Love, Day, Dia, and Veda before.
Age:Eighteen. Born in the summer.
Gender:Transgirl.
Sexuality:Asexual Panromantic.
Country:Erihollow.
Occupation:Thieving streetrat.
Appearance:Lovedaia is a small girl, and is especially scrawny. When she was younger, she looked emaciated with nothing but skin and bones, but since then has gained enough weight to at least appear semi-healthy. Her chestnut brown hair has grown to her chest and Lovedaia prefers to keep it down – she likes the feeling of wind through her hair. Though, there is this one annoying lock that continues to fall into her eyes. Because of the danger often found in Erihollow, Lovedaia has come to know the dangers of keeping her hair down, having had it pulled and yanked every which way. Due to this, whenever she is nervous about a possible confrontation or danger, Lovedaia pulls her hair into a quick, messy ponytail. The fifteen-year old’s hair frames her round face and slightly chubby cheeks that, no matter what she does, just won’t go away. Hazel eyes are situated about a curved-bridged and upturned nose and they are very expressive, often giving away her extreme emotions that she would rather keep hidden. Lovedaia’s legs are the strongest part of her body and a bit of muscle ripples when she runs, but for the most part they seem skinny and weak. On the left side of her face, Lovedaia has a small scar on the corner of her lip; in addition, her fingers are calloused and the soles of her feet are marked with a multitude of scars from times she had to run barefoot.
When it comes to Lovedaia’s preferred clothing, she likes to have fitting trousers that cling close to her skin in order to prevent resistance when running. Over her trousers, Lovedaia likes to have a long, knee-length tunic with bell sleeves and a hood – sometimes, if she has an extra coin, Lovedaia likes to buy embroidered tunics, but for the most part they are plain and stained with dirt and grime. Lovedaia only owns one pair of leather boots that are laced on the sides and are extremely worn – there is even a hole on her right boot, near her pinky toe.
Background:Lovedaia hasn’t always been an orphan. Her family was with her until she was six years old, in the dangerous wasteland that was Erihollow. They made do in small colonies; her father spent his time doing various odd jobs around the encampments, fixing shacks and helping others for a few coin. Meanwhile, her mother mended clothes that had been torn from the dangers beyond the settlements and Lovedaia lived as a boy, Amadeus. However, the Boulderbelly’s never stayed in one place long. There was no specific reason for it, as far as Lovedaia could tell, but her mother did get especially restless when in one place.
The day Lovedaia had lost her parents, they were in a small settlement on the edge of a marsh – in retrospect, not the best place to put a colony, but there was a steady food and water supply nearby. Lovedaia was put in the care of an old woman while her parents left to stock up on some much-needed supplies – four hands are better than two, of course. The last she saw of them alive was their back turned as they walked away from her. The last she saw of them, dead or alive, was when two men had dragged their bloated, three-day old corpses from the marsh. The official story is that they’re feet got caught in the muck and something particularly dangerous came along when they were defenseless.
The old woman, Wysteria, took care of her as long as she could. She nurtured Lovedaia and took care of her – and, when Lovedaia began to grow her hair out and wear “girl” clothes, Wysteria lovingly brushed the locks and washed her clothes tenderly. Wysteria was a kind woman who did well by Lovedaia, called her affectionally her “little dove.” Wysteria wasn’t a mother figure, per se, Lovedaia could never see Wysteria like that when her mom’s face was so fresh in her mind, but the old crone made a good grandmother. Until she died, of a lung sickness. It was a slow death that Lovedaia had to watch, day by day, week by week, the little eight-year-old powerless to do anything about it. After Wysteria’s death, Lovedaia left the settlement – believed it was cursed with death from the swamp, or maybe she was just cursed.
Lovedaia never stopped moving, after that. Settlement to settlement. Camp to camp. Person to person. She began to understand her mother’s restlessness about staying in one place, the antsy feeling of something bad looming overhead if she were to be in one home for too long – like it would be snatched from her, like all good things are. Eventually, Lovedaia came to the only big city of Erihollow.
Lovedaia was thirteen and starving, emaciated, with no money to survive and was shown no kindness from others – in retrospect, she shouldn’t blame them, they were barely getting by as well. Either way, the result is the same: Lovedaia became a low-life, thieving streetrat. It was only enough to survive, in the beginning – food, blankets, clothes. But once you start, it’s hard to stop. Eventually Lovedaia was stealing more food than she could eat, unneeded accessories, luscious blankets, as luscious as an Erihollow blanket can get, ripped from beds. Lovedaia’s lowest moment was when she stole the marriage band from a young woman’s finger – she still has it, resting on her finger, like a guilty reminder.
As most thieves find out, there’s a limit to their abilities, and they can only get away with it for so long. A week before Lovedaia’s eighteenth birthday, she happened to be caught with her hands around a coin purse. Like most thieves, she was chased out of town – and was chased even further.
In a bid to lose her pursuers, Lovedaia entered a dangerous, particularly dark and scary marsh. She slipped from the bank and into the sticky waters, the mud clung to her ankles like a vice and when she flailed and pushed, she sunk even further. It was like a vacuum of air sucking her further and further down and a terrible fear passed her mind – drowning, dying from a beast like her parents. And, the worst of her fear, the wyvern that swooped over her head feeling particularly hungry for human flesh.
The dragon’s name was Geindassel, and he seemed content to talk to her as she suffered in the muck. They liked to tease, swooping overhead and snapping their jaws like they were going to devour her whole – and when she gave a grunt of fear, they would throw their serpentine head back and guffaw. Lovedaia doesn’t know why they did it, but they helped pull her from the swamp (though Lovedaia had to direct them to do it in a way that did not involve them ripping her in half with their brute strength). She didn’t have anywhere else to go, honestly, and Geindassel didn’t seem to mind the company.
Lovedaia didn’t figure she was a listener at the time, it was more so an epiphany afterwards when she realized that the entire time, Geindassel was speaking to her in her head.
Strengths:》 Quick.
Living the life of a small-time, amateur thief means Lovedaia has gotten caught more than once or twice and had to run like hell. She was already pretty spry before, but now she's especially fast in running and dodging.
Wily.
Lovedaia can be quite the trickster when caught in a bad situation. Relying on clever ruses and opportunistic moments, Lovedaia will use underhanded techniques in order to get an advantage over obstacles - people or not.
Survival Know-How.
Lovedaia has been on her own for a while and has had to adapt to her environment. She knows the basic survival skills to make it in the harsh land of Erihollow, such as finding food, building fires, and making do with her environment.
Weaknesses:》 Unintelligent.
Lovedaia has common sense and can be pretty clever - but she lacks book smarts. She's ignorant to all "scholarly" things. She couldn't read a map to save her life - or, you know, read. Life as an illiterate is hard. Math and big words pretty much fly right over her head.
Offensive Combat.
Lovedaia is efficient in dodging her enemies pretty well, but when it comes to fighting back, Lovedaia is severely lacking. Though she carries a dagger with her, she can barely wield it and definitely cannot wield any other weapons. The only damage Lovedaia could cause is a small bruise on the cheek if she lands a lucky punch.
Frail.
Lovedaia can be subdued by brute strength if she is caught, and she most likely would love the moment she is caught. Lovedaia can't handle a beating, she's rather weak in that department and is easily hurt.
Equipment:》 4 spares of tunics and trousers.
》 Her only boots.
》 A rusty, old knife.
》 Flint.
》 A once expensive blanket (but now ratty and torn).
》 A small supply of food and a flask of water.
》 A wedding ring, stolen.
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Full Name:Geindassel. [GEEN-DAH-SELL]
Age:Two hundred and seventy three.
Gender:Genderfluid. Prefers they/them but won't be upset if he/him or she/her are used.
Race:Wyvern.
Appearance:As a dragon, Geindassel is a terrifying, but fascinating, sight to behold. They are large and marvelous, their neck curving elegantly with how they rear their head, and it curves into a hard-scaled armor that protects their underbelly. Strong, rippling muscles extend into thin bones, connected by the flimsy connecting skin that constitutes their wing. Their wings are jagged and ragged, black but with red seeping through like lava. The parts of Geindassel’s body that lacks tough, thick cords of muscle have cracks and stripes of red, like their scales are the only thing keeping lava from pouring out of their body. Geindassel’s body is built to terrify enemies – the top of neck is covered in thick, large black scales that ridge outwards, edges sharp. Their spine and shoulder blades possess thin bones sticking out with black skin connecting to its body, creating spikes along their back and down their curling, long tail.
As a human, Geindassel could still be categorized as devastating, depending on one’s type. they're not one to brag, but like they also are so, they will proudly state that they're fairly attractive – they're cocky like that. Geindassel is tall, with well-defined muscles – but their belly has gotten a little soft lately due to all the treats they have been eating – and pale, rough skin. Their body is fully of scars, criss-crossing their body – they are present when in dragon form, but are hard to see due to the dark armored scales. Geindassel has soft, endearing amber eyes that look gloomy and sympathetic. Their features are sharp – their nose straight and pointed, their chin and cheeks able to cut glass. Rough, coarse red hair falls down their back, though it’s incredibly shorter on their right side after it was singed off and they had to fix it, and a braid hangs around their ear. On the left side, their hair falls at different lengths, due to butchering during fights. Despite all the ruggedness to them, and the blemishes, Geindassel exudes confidence in their appearance.
Background:As much as they are loath to admit it, Geindassel doesn’t have much to speak about their past. They had parents, sure, but they were never particularly close with them – and, well, their parents left as soon as possible, weren’t really fit for the family life. Geindassel didn’t take it personally. However, as they ventured through Erihollow, it became clear that Geindassel wasn’t really likeable. Other dragons avoided them like the plague, instead choosing to frolic somewhere else. They were never outright mean to Geindassel, as childish as that sounds – like human children playing around the village, excluding the pariah – but Geindassel was…different. Geindassel didn’t do well with social situations, and it usually ended with a fight or with tears, and who wants to be around someone like that?
Geindassel understood, but they didn’t really – they knew they were unlikeable, but they didn’t understand exactly why. So, Geindassel prefers to be alone – better than being abandoned by friends. They spent their entire life roaming the Erihollow by themselves, lurking in swamps and swooping over colonies. As they grew older, Geindassel became more volatile – which ended with a lot of bad tiffs with humans and other wyverns alike, many which attribute to their scars. There were even some lovers of Geindassel that had gotten pissed off at them some way or another.
Despite their attempts to make friends, and their attempts to live a lonely life, Geindassel yearned for companionship. That wasn’t exactly what they were looking for when they taunted the girl stuck in the mud. More so, Geindassel was bored and wanted some fun – a human to taunt and tease. Then, they felt connected to the human – not in some weird revelation kind of way, but in a slow dull in their stomach that made them realize that this human was just as lonely as they were. Plus, she could hear them, loud and clear, that’s a sign for something, isn’t it?
Strengths:》 Strong.
Geindassel, as a wyvern, is a especially strong. They can take down enemies with just their strength alone, pummeling them into the ground and making sure they can't get up.
Stamina.
Their energy is boundless - of course, Geindassel has their limits, but they can continue fighting for quite a long time. In addition, they can take quite a beating before they will give up.
Poisonous.
Like all wyverns, Geindassel's teeth and claws are poisonous and if this poison ends up in an enemies immune system, it could be the end of them.
Weaknesses:》 Stupid.
Geindassel isn't the smartest wyvern in the swamp; matter of fact, they're completely oblivious to not only all things scholarly, but all things of the common sense sort as well. If there was any way to beat Geindassel's ruthless barrage of attacks, it's through outsmarting them.
Slow.
Wyverns are the largest of the dragons - and Geindassel is rather large. The more mass they have, the slower they are, especially in the air. They especially get frustrated when those damn wily fast things escape their grasp.
Socially inept.
Geindassel doesn't know the meaning of tact. They're straight-forward, blunt, and awkward. They want to make friends, but they doesn't really know how, so they end up coming across as a jackass. For the life of them, Geindassel could not make a deal with someone, or give a speech to rally people up.
