Tia
Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2025 12:04 pm
Second character Application
Character name: Tia
Character age: 18
Physical description of your character:
Her features were a balance of strength and grace: high cheekbones, a proud jawline, and wide, expressive eyes the color of rich amber, flecked with hints of gold. Her gaze carried both the softness of compassion and the steel of determination, a reflection of her inner fire.
Tia moved with the fluidity of a predator, her steps deliberate and graceful, each motion imbued with purpose. There was a wild beauty about her, untamed and magnetic, like the very beasts she cared for.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bV-hSgL1R74
Story:
Tia, the daughter of a weary animal trader, was raised amidst the clamor of caged beasts and the acrid stench of tanned hides.
Her father, a man broken by life yet softened by his love for her,
often regaled her with tales of her mother—a woman he claimed to have met beneath the shadowy arches of Erda,
a place whispered of as cursed by the winds. Tia could not remember her mother,
but her father's wistful words painted her as a creature of grace and fire, untamed like the beasts Tia cherished.
Unlike her father, Tia despised the trade that sustained them.
She cared the wild creatures her father captured, whispering comfort into their ears and soothing their wounds.
Her tender hands and resolute heart belonged to the animals, and though her father scolded her for her sentimentality, she caught glimpses of pride in his tired eyes.
Fate:
It was on an ordinary day, one of blinding sun and biting wind, that a caravan arrived in Mott's Rest. The travelers were no mere merchants or wanderers but high nobles, draped in silks and escorted by archeologists who sought relics buried in the sands. The market buzzed with nervous energy as the nobles disembarked, their sharp eyes appraising the wares of the impoverished townsfolk.
Among them was a man of cruel bearing, a noble whose wealth had calcified into arrogance. His daughter, a pale and petulant child, trailed behind him, her gloved fingers grasping at trinkets and curios with a spoiled disdain.
"I desire a camel for our caravan," the noble announced in a voice that brooked no argument. "And a fox—small and exotic—for my daughter."
Tia's father hesitated, his eyes flicking to the caged creatures. "The fox is no pet for a child, my lord. It's wild—untamable."
The noble sneered and tossed a handful of coins to the dirt. "I did not ask for your counsel, trader. I asked for your wares."
Before her father could respond, the noble's daughter seized a trembling fox pup from its cage, clutching it so tightly that the frightened creature snapped at her with sharp teeth. The girl shrieked, dropping the pup, and the noble's face darkened with rage.
"You dare!" he spat, drawing a dagger from his belt. His intention was clear—the pup would pay for the insult with its life.
"No!" Tia cried, throwing herself between the noble and the terrified fox. The blade swerved, its edge slicing the noble's own hand in his haste.
The market erupted in chaos. Blood smeared across the noble's silken glove, and his bellowing curses filled the air. "Arrest them!" he roared, pointing at Tia and her father.
The guards seized them, their hands rough and unyielding. Tia screamed and thrashed as her father was dragged away, his face pale but resolute.
Guilt:
The cell was a place of darkness and despair, its stone walls leeching warmth and hope. Days blurred into nights, and Tia's pleas for her father went unanswered.
Finally, a guard came to her, his face etched with discomfort. "Your father is dead," he said bluntly. "He succumbed to the fever."
"No," Tia whispered, her voice breaking. "No, it isn't true. He was strong. He was well!"
The guard said nothing, turning away, but Tia's heart was aflame with certainty. This was no sickness. This was the noble's hand, the same hand that had thrown coins to the dirt and seized her father's life as if it were no more valuable than a desert breeze.
Alone in the cold cell, Tia made a vow. She would survive, not for herself, but for her father and for the creatures who shared her pain.
Character name: Tia
Character age: 18
Physical description of your character:
Her features were a balance of strength and grace: high cheekbones, a proud jawline, and wide, expressive eyes the color of rich amber, flecked with hints of gold. Her gaze carried both the softness of compassion and the steel of determination, a reflection of her inner fire.
Tia moved with the fluidity of a predator, her steps deliberate and graceful, each motion imbued with purpose. There was a wild beauty about her, untamed and magnetic, like the very beasts she cared for.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bV-hSgL1R74
Story:
Tia, the daughter of a weary animal trader, was raised amidst the clamor of caged beasts and the acrid stench of tanned hides.
Her father, a man broken by life yet softened by his love for her,
often regaled her with tales of her mother—a woman he claimed to have met beneath the shadowy arches of Erda,
a place whispered of as cursed by the winds. Tia could not remember her mother,
but her father's wistful words painted her as a creature of grace and fire, untamed like the beasts Tia cherished.
Unlike her father, Tia despised the trade that sustained them.
She cared the wild creatures her father captured, whispering comfort into their ears and soothing their wounds.
Her tender hands and resolute heart belonged to the animals, and though her father scolded her for her sentimentality, she caught glimpses of pride in his tired eyes.
Fate:
It was on an ordinary day, one of blinding sun and biting wind, that a caravan arrived in Mott's Rest. The travelers were no mere merchants or wanderers but high nobles, draped in silks and escorted by archeologists who sought relics buried in the sands. The market buzzed with nervous energy as the nobles disembarked, their sharp eyes appraising the wares of the impoverished townsfolk.
Among them was a man of cruel bearing, a noble whose wealth had calcified into arrogance. His daughter, a pale and petulant child, trailed behind him, her gloved fingers grasping at trinkets and curios with a spoiled disdain.
"I desire a camel for our caravan," the noble announced in a voice that brooked no argument. "And a fox—small and exotic—for my daughter."
Tia's father hesitated, his eyes flicking to the caged creatures. "The fox is no pet for a child, my lord. It's wild—untamable."
The noble sneered and tossed a handful of coins to the dirt. "I did not ask for your counsel, trader. I asked for your wares."
Before her father could respond, the noble's daughter seized a trembling fox pup from its cage, clutching it so tightly that the frightened creature snapped at her with sharp teeth. The girl shrieked, dropping the pup, and the noble's face darkened with rage.
"You dare!" he spat, drawing a dagger from his belt. His intention was clear—the pup would pay for the insult with its life.
"No!" Tia cried, throwing herself between the noble and the terrified fox. The blade swerved, its edge slicing the noble's own hand in his haste.
The market erupted in chaos. Blood smeared across the noble's silken glove, and his bellowing curses filled the air. "Arrest them!" he roared, pointing at Tia and her father.
The guards seized them, their hands rough and unyielding. Tia screamed and thrashed as her father was dragged away, his face pale but resolute.
Guilt:
The cell was a place of darkness and despair, its stone walls leeching warmth and hope. Days blurred into nights, and Tia's pleas for her father went unanswered.
Finally, a guard came to her, his face etched with discomfort. "Your father is dead," he said bluntly. "He succumbed to the fever."
"No," Tia whispered, her voice breaking. "No, it isn't true. He was strong. He was well!"
The guard said nothing, turning away, but Tia's heart was aflame with certainty. This was no sickness. This was the noble's hand, the same hand that had thrown coins to the dirt and seized her father's life as if it were no more valuable than a desert breeze.
Alone in the cold cell, Tia made a vow. She would survive, not for herself, but for her father and for the creatures who shared her pain.