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Ayeeeeeee ;^)
CS:
Name: Anaïs
Age: 14 (1666-1680)
Appearance:
Weapon of Choice: dark magic, uses hands or wand
Personality: While her first impression may make her seem quiet and cautious Anaïs is reckless, stubborn, and wild - demonstrating a rage like fire that burns within. She can take quite a punch but doesn’t know when to stop if on the offensive side. Her anger hides her true feelings of lonliness and sadness from the neglect of her peers.
Place of Origin: Salem, Boston
History: The little witch trails from a long heritage of witches, her mother, her grandmother, her great-grandmother, and so on. Though in her younger years she was unaware of the powers she contained after being stranded alone at an orphanage. From the moment she got there Anaïs spent most of her childhood being tormented by her peers, for they would call her names and made fun of her visible features. The other girls would yell “look, a witch! Burn her! Drown her!” and push her down. Sometimes they locked her inside closets during church, or even outside - especially if it was raining. The best way she would cope was in the town's library, she would explore the fantasy lands of warlocks and wizards. She eventually stumbled upon a particular book, it fell on the floor with a whump as she passed by that particular shelf. She opened the book to find all sorts of information on witchcraft, a brief history on witch-kind, and all sorts of wiccan spells. What a lucky find! She would say to herself. Anaïs kept this book, it held a special place in her heart.
However one day, enough was enough. The girls weren't getting a reaction out of her, and they tried to take the book away from her as a last resort to see her speak. It went much too far this time, and no one, not even Anaïs, expected what happened next.
She looked up, her eyes practically glowed in the dark room they stood in. The walls of glass shook as the sky clouded, thunder rumbled in the background. The little witch was unaware of the intensity of her powers.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" She yelled, lightning struck the ground, the windows shattered, as if from an unknown force. The reaction sent the girls to the floor, they all screamed at her, "She is a witch! Someone! Help!" The walls looked scorched, the roof seemed to be cracking from the shock. Anaïs looked at the group in fear and knew she had to leave. She scrambled to pick up her book and flee from the orphanage. She ran towards a lake on the edge of town, unaware of the gasps and screams from the townspeople. Her feet left behind scorched marks in the ground, marks on her neck and forehead became visible.
The woods called her name as her footsteps cracked twigs and branches under her. She felt suffocated by the trees, their tall trunks loomed over her as she tripped over roots and stumbled through bushes. Anais looked back, realizing how far she had run from the town. She looked down at her book, it glowed like the cool colors of the sky at dusk. She huffed, finally feeling at least a little safer, and turned around to continue on her way. Never had she thought of running off, and it was probably the best decision she ever made. Her soul felt free, she had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.
While attempting to carefully descend a hill her foot slipped, sending Anais tumbling down the landscape. Her' tiny body smacked against the branches, scraping her face and carving her legs. Her purple dress ripped with terrible sounds as she plummeted down the cliff. At the bottom of the hill lied a rose bush; its deep red flowers softly glimmered in the quiet light. She tumbled into the shrubs, her arms were pierced by the thorns in a decorative fashion. She sat still, quietly wincing as she plucked the thorns from their resting place in her skin. Carefully Anais took herself out from under the bushes and hastily looked through the bushes to find her book. Luckily it was intact, and as she brushed off the cover her crimson hand marked it delicately. The novel suddenly glowed with a brilliant light, Anais was amazed. All this time, she never would have guessed that something so fantastical would happen. She really was a witch. The book floated above her hands and as she stared in awe a wand erected from the book. Her eyes glimmered with excitement, and she immediately grabbed the tool, sending a spark of purple lightning towards the sky, it crackled in the storm clouds.
Anais wandered through the woods for a day or two, her wiccan soul grew stronger by the hour. She learned to do many of the spells from her book, and befriended the wind and animals of the forest. One beautiful moonlit night, the sky as dark as space, glimmering with the galaxy of stars. A moonbeam traced its way down into the wood, searching for the immense aura it sensed. Anais was hanging out by a small ravine, staring into her reflection - her memories passed by like the trailers before a movie. The moonbeam finally reaching it's target raced over to the little witch, swirling around her as if asking for her attention. She proceeded to follow the beam towards a pond where the moonlight merged with the falling water of a stationary waterfall. The moonbeam spun around, not allowing Anais to go any further towards the midnight pool. She decided to situate herself near the lake, swirling her wand in the air, it spewed multi-color plasma that glowed in the dark like a flair shot into the sky.
She never thought she would be chosen, her self-depreciating attitude prevented her from thinking that such a role would be placed on her.
[EDITED] it is much better now ;v;
Quote: "The wind is calming, rejuvenating...it speaks to you, if you listen closely."
Name: Anaïs
Age: 14 (1666-1680)
Appearance:
Weapon of Choice: dark magic, uses hands or wand
Personality: While her first impression may make her seem quiet and cautious Anaïs is reckless, stubborn, and wild - demonstrating a rage like fire that burns within. She can take quite a punch but doesn’t know when to stop if on the offensive side. Her anger hides her true feelings of lonliness and sadness from the neglect of her peers.
Place of Origin: Salem, Boston
History: The little witch trails from a long heritage of witches, her mother, her grandmother, her great-grandmother, and so on. Though in her younger years she was unaware of the powers she contained after being stranded alone at an orphanage. From the moment she got there Anaïs spent most of her childhood being tormented by her peers, for they would call her names and made fun of her visible features. The other girls would yell “look, a witch! Burn her! Drown her!” and push her down. Sometimes they locked her inside closets during church, or even outside - especially if it was raining. The best way she would cope was in the town's library, she would explore the fantasy lands of warlocks and wizards. She eventually stumbled upon a particular book, it fell on the floor with a whump as she passed by that particular shelf. She opened the book to find all sorts of information on witchcraft, a brief history on witch-kind, and all sorts of wiccan spells. What a lucky find! She would say to herself. Anaïs kept this book, it held a special place in her heart.
However one day, enough was enough. The girls weren't getting a reaction out of her, and they tried to take the book away from her as a last resort to see her speak. It went much too far this time, and no one, not even Anaïs, expected what happened next.
She looked up, her eyes practically glowed in the dark room they stood in. The walls of glass shook as the sky clouded, thunder rumbled in the background. The little witch was unaware of the intensity of her powers.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" She yelled, lightning struck the ground, the windows shattered, as if from an unknown force. The reaction sent the girls to the floor, they all screamed at her, "She is a witch! Someone! Help!" The walls looked scorched, the roof seemed to be cracking from the shock. Anaïs looked at the group in fear and knew she had to leave. She scrambled to pick up her book and flee from the orphanage. She ran towards a lake on the edge of town, unaware of the gasps and screams from the townspeople. Her feet left behind scorched marks in the ground, marks on her neck and forehead became visible.
The woods called her name as her footsteps cracked twigs and branches under her. She felt suffocated by the trees, their tall trunks loomed over her as she tripped over roots and stumbled through bushes. Anais looked back, realizing how far she had run from the town. She looked down at her book, it glowed like the cool colors of the sky at dusk. She huffed, finally feeling at least a little safer, and turned around to continue on her way. Never had she thought of running off, and it was probably the best decision she ever made. Her soul felt free, she had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.
While attempting to carefully descend a hill her foot slipped, sending Anais tumbling down the landscape. Her' tiny body smacked against the branches, scraping her face and carving her legs. Her purple dress ripped with terrible sounds as she plummeted down the cliff. At the bottom of the hill lied a rose bush; its deep red flowers softly glimmered in the quiet light. She tumbled into the shrubs, her arms were pierced by the thorns in a decorative fashion. She sat still, quietly wincing as she plucked the thorns from their resting place in her skin. Carefully Anais took herself out from under the bushes and hastily looked through the bushes to find her book. Luckily it was intact, and as she brushed off the cover her crimson hand marked it delicately. The novel suddenly glowed with a brilliant light, Anais was amazed. All this time, she never would have guessed that something so fantastical would happen. She really was a witch. The book floated above her hands and as she stared in awe a wand erected from the book. Her eyes glimmered with excitement, and she immediately grabbed the tool, sending a spark of purple lightning towards the sky, it crackled in the storm clouds.
Anais wandered through the woods for a day or two, her wiccan soul grew stronger by the hour. She learned to do many of the spells from her book, and befriended the wind and animals of the forest. One beautiful moonlit night, the sky as dark as space, glimmering with the galaxy of stars. A moonbeam traced its way down into the wood, searching for the immense aura it sensed. Anais was hanging out by a small ravine, staring into her reflection - her memories passed by like the trailers before a movie. The moonbeam finally reaching it's target raced over to the little witch, swirling around her as if asking for her attention. She proceeded to follow the beam towards a pond where the moonlight merged with the falling water of a stationary waterfall. The moonbeam spun around, not allowing Anais to go any further towards the midnight pool. She decided to situate herself near the lake, swirling her wand in the air, it spewed multi-color plasma that glowed in the dark like a flair shot into the sky.
She never thought she would be chosen, her self-depreciating attitude prevented her from thinking that such a role would be placed on her.
[EDITED] it is much better now ;v;
Quote: "The wind is calming, rejuvenating...it speaks to you, if you listen closely."
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