I had an idea and I ran with it I am sorry.
Full Name: Valora Czar
Hometown: Kizlyar, Russia
Age: 24
Appearance
Note: The left side of Valora’s face has both piercing and dragging teeth marks as ugly scars, particularly around her eye, which is clouded due to being half blind.
Powers: Animal Transformation
Occupation: Statistics Analyst
Cause of Death: Suicide
Biography: When she was a young girl it was never surprising to find Valora often wandering from her parents’ side to explore the lands belongings to her family, a large vineyard they called home in the city of Kizlyar. Her parents looked after her the best they could, but for a child as adventurous as the small brunette it was all a game to slip away. After all, this was her home. It was familiar, it was safe. When the little girl happened to slip away one day and find a dog wandering their lands why wouldn’t she want to pet the cute, cuddly creature? She had no knowledge that every animal didn’t want to be pet, especially one as emaciated and abused as the wild stray. She had no idea it would turn on her with surprising violence, or how long it would take for her family and the workers to get to her at the sounds of her screams.
Valora survived, but with permanent damage. It wasn’t just scars – deep, ugly marks on the left of her face that would never completely fade – or even that half her sight was lost due to a damaged eye. No, the longest reaching result of the desperate attack was that the young girl would only ever grow to be a shadow of who she could’ve been; Valora became terrified.
From that moment on fear tainted Valora’s every thought and anxiety plagued every step, therapy could only do so much. She suffered the worst around animals, as once a source of excitement and comfort now the mere sight of the smallest bird to the friendliest dog would send the brunette into a full blown panic attack. Yet even where the brunette would once go adventuring through her family’s lands she now stayed huddled in her warm, safe family home to watch over her younger siblings. The outside world was dangerous, and unfortunately her younger siblings suffered the brunt of her worrying. Though her heart was in the right place her siblings could only handle so much of her newly overbearing nature before it became annoying, troublesome. Her parents were more understanding, but with a vineyard and other family members to watch over as well there was only so much they could do for their eldest daughter. Valora could only retreat into herself. By the time the Russian graduated high school it was obvious that running a vineyard wouldn’t be in her cards. Words became a safe haven now, and more than that numbers were her strangest comfort.
Not wanting to further strain the already tenuous relationship with her siblings, nor continue to burden her parents with fretting over their obviously damaged daughter, Valora took a chance when she finally landed a job in her town’s government building after years of work and moved out on her own. Her parents were ecstatic; maybe there was hope for her living a normal life. Valora never told them how difficult it was. How every shadow in the strange new apartment terrorized her, how she made every precaution to be free from danger and still lived in fear, how she never felt safe in her own skin let alone in a new home.
In truth the more time passed the more Valora realized she should’ve died all those years ago.
The end came innocently enough. Valora had chosen her apartment specifically since they didn’t allow pets, so when the young woman came straight home after a day in the office the last thing she expected to do in the hallways of her apartment was come face to face with her biggest fear. Valora wouldn’t be able to tell you what breed the dog was, even what color it was, only that it had fangs and claws and that the blood of a predator ran through it with reckless abandon. Flashbacks of the incident that shaped her flew through the brunette’s mind, and over the owner’s sheepish explanations – he’s friendly, please don’t tell the manager – panic set in. A flight or fight reaction lit under Valora and she took off, hearing the dog’s surprised – deadly – echoing through her mind long after she was gone. She might never know what lead her feet there, but she ended up escaping to the roof of her apartment building, trembling, dizzy, and sweating. Up there, clutching herself with the sight of flashing fangs, the sound of a little girl’s sobs in her ears, and fear choking an iron grip in her chest Valora came to a decision that had long been brewing. Valora didn’t want to live in fear anymore.
Standing on the edge of her building’s roof Valora couldn’t even look to the road she had walked on that very morning, instead turning her eyes to the sky. Apologies tumbled from her lips, second thoughts raced, she wondered if she should leave a note – but it would just be rambling; statistics scrawled across a page with uncomforting words. She knew because she had tried writing them before. So it was with her last goodbyes that one last, bitter prayer found its way skyward that Valora finally met her end.
“If there’s such a thing as reincarnation, don’t let me be reborn a dog.” Then a simple step forward, and in short order Valora was no more. She certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up again. Certainly not on a cold slab, naked as the day she was born with the clicking of claws as she tried to raise herself up. The very sound sent panic coursing through her veins, a yelp ripped from her throat and the sheet covering her body was ripped off as she fell to the floor. When the mortician came rushing in to see what the noise was about they came to see the back of their fresh body, sitting up with the sheet pooling around her hips and unable to see how Valora’s wide, panicked eyes could only look at the fur slowly receding on her once again human hands.
Full Name: Valora Czar
Hometown: Kizlyar, Russia
Age: 24
Appearance
Powers: Animal Transformation
Occupation: Statistics Analyst
Cause of Death: Suicide
Biography: When she was a young girl it was never surprising to find Valora often wandering from her parents’ side to explore the lands belongings to her family, a large vineyard they called home in the city of Kizlyar. Her parents looked after her the best they could, but for a child as adventurous as the small brunette it was all a game to slip away. After all, this was her home. It was familiar, it was safe. When the little girl happened to slip away one day and find a dog wandering their lands why wouldn’t she want to pet the cute, cuddly creature? She had no knowledge that every animal didn’t want to be pet, especially one as emaciated and abused as the wild stray. She had no idea it would turn on her with surprising violence, or how long it would take for her family and the workers to get to her at the sounds of her screams.
Valora survived, but with permanent damage. It wasn’t just scars – deep, ugly marks on the left of her face that would never completely fade – or even that half her sight was lost due to a damaged eye. No, the longest reaching result of the desperate attack was that the young girl would only ever grow to be a shadow of who she could’ve been; Valora became terrified.
From that moment on fear tainted Valora’s every thought and anxiety plagued every step, therapy could only do so much. She suffered the worst around animals, as once a source of excitement and comfort now the mere sight of the smallest bird to the friendliest dog would send the brunette into a full blown panic attack. Yet even where the brunette would once go adventuring through her family’s lands she now stayed huddled in her warm, safe family home to watch over her younger siblings. The outside world was dangerous, and unfortunately her younger siblings suffered the brunt of her worrying. Though her heart was in the right place her siblings could only handle so much of her newly overbearing nature before it became annoying, troublesome. Her parents were more understanding, but with a vineyard and other family members to watch over as well there was only so much they could do for their eldest daughter. Valora could only retreat into herself. By the time the Russian graduated high school it was obvious that running a vineyard wouldn’t be in her cards. Words became a safe haven now, and more than that numbers were her strangest comfort.
Not wanting to further strain the already tenuous relationship with her siblings, nor continue to burden her parents with fretting over their obviously damaged daughter, Valora took a chance when she finally landed a job in her town’s government building after years of work and moved out on her own. Her parents were ecstatic; maybe there was hope for her living a normal life. Valora never told them how difficult it was. How every shadow in the strange new apartment terrorized her, how she made every precaution to be free from danger and still lived in fear, how she never felt safe in her own skin let alone in a new home.
In truth the more time passed the more Valora realized she should’ve died all those years ago.
The end came innocently enough. Valora had chosen her apartment specifically since they didn’t allow pets, so when the young woman came straight home after a day in the office the last thing she expected to do in the hallways of her apartment was come face to face with her biggest fear. Valora wouldn’t be able to tell you what breed the dog was, even what color it was, only that it had fangs and claws and that the blood of a predator ran through it with reckless abandon. Flashbacks of the incident that shaped her flew through the brunette’s mind, and over the owner’s sheepish explanations – he’s friendly, please don’t tell the manager – panic set in. A flight or fight reaction lit under Valora and she took off, hearing the dog’s surprised – deadly – echoing through her mind long after she was gone. She might never know what lead her feet there, but she ended up escaping to the roof of her apartment building, trembling, dizzy, and sweating. Up there, clutching herself with the sight of flashing fangs, the sound of a little girl’s sobs in her ears, and fear choking an iron grip in her chest Valora came to a decision that had long been brewing. Valora didn’t want to live in fear anymore.
Standing on the edge of her building’s roof Valora couldn’t even look to the road she had walked on that very morning, instead turning her eyes to the sky. Apologies tumbled from her lips, second thoughts raced, she wondered if she should leave a note – but it would just be rambling; statistics scrawled across a page with uncomforting words. She knew because she had tried writing them before. So it was with her last goodbyes that one last, bitter prayer found its way skyward that Valora finally met her end.
“If there’s such a thing as reincarnation, don’t let me be reborn a dog.” Then a simple step forward, and in short order Valora was no more. She certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up again. Certainly not on a cold slab, naked as the day she was born with the clicking of claws as she tried to raise herself up. The very sound sent panic coursing through her veins, a yelp ripped from her throat and the sheet covering her body was ripped off as she fell to the floor. When the mortician came rushing in to see what the noise was about they came to see the back of their fresh body, sitting up with the sheet pooling around her hips and unable to see how Valora’s wide, panicked eyes could only look at the fur slowly receding on her once again human hands.
