Difference between revisions of "Magdelena Delacroix"
(→Enemies & Rivals) |
(→Enemies & Rivals) |
||
Line 175: | Line 175: | ||
===<div style="padding:10px 35px; background:#2C3539; font-size:14px; color:#FFFFFF"><span class="mw-headline">Enemies & Rivals</span></div>=== | ===<div style="padding:10px 35px; background:#2C3539; font-size:14px; color:#FFFFFF"><span class="mw-headline">Enemies & Rivals</span></div>=== | ||
− | :<span style="color: #C24640; font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-center">● </span><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-center"><span style="font-size:small">'''[[L' | + | :<span style="color: #C24640; font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-center">● </span><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-center"><span style="font-size:small">'''[[L'Raha Nunh]]''' - Most certainly on her shit list |
</span></span> | </span></span> | ||
Revision as of 11:50, 18 December 2015
Magdelena Delacroix | |
The Valkyrie of Coerthas | |
Gender | Female |
Race | Elezen |
Clan | Unknown |
Citizenship | Ishgardian |
Age | 35 (HY) |
Guardian | Halone, the Fury |
Namesday | 29th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon |
Character
Through every generation of the human race there has been a constant war, a war with fear. Those who have the courage to conquer it are made free and those who are conquered by it are made to suffer until they have the courage to defeat it, or death takes them. —Alexander the Great
♦ General
Current Status: Currently the elf sports a deeply-colored contusion on her left cheek, down near the corner of her mouth. In addition, the skin of her forehead and between her eyes, down to the bridge of her nose is healthy bruised shade. A thin split also adorns the bridge of her nose.
Height: 6'4
Weight: 185 Lbs
Complexion: Fair to pale
Hair: Raven black with royal purple highlights
Eyes: A predatory gold
Particular Traits: Void-black eyeliner accentuates her exotic almond shaped eyes. High cheekbones coupled with a sharp widow's peak offer the elf a haughty, and regal appearance. A light scar paints her left cheek near the outer corner of her eye to the edge of her lips.
Voice: Regal, Slightly husky though feminine
Clothing Style: Prefers armor, though casual dress is that of typical Ishgardian Nobility
Talents: The elf has a certain knack for the Ishgardian arts. Her talent with a lance is remarkable, as is her grasp of the Dragoon style of combat. She has indeed mastered the airborn combat, able to wield the lance effortlessly in midair. She has been known to perch on mountain peaks and roof tops only to leap to great heights, then allowing gravity to take her into a controlled free-fall onto her target, lance first. This act of 'flight' earned her the nickname of Valkyrie. She is able to achieve such a feat by channeling the aether in near perfection.
♦ Appearance
The woman bares a commanding presence. Her frame is lean and athletic, though retains subtle feminine curvature. Pin-straight, raven tresses were hacked short, violet tinged bangs covering her eyes just so, affording the Dragoon a predatory appearance. Her face was angular, her cheekbones perched high; a true elezen high-born indeed. Long, slender ears jut out sharply from her silken hair, both adorned with a mythrite cuff. Tucked beneath her armor or clothing at all times is a rarely seen mythrite chain. The links of the chain were miniscule, though tightly linked (exquisite craftsmanship indeed)and between her breasts hung the tooth of a dragon. Multiple small, fading scars are found on her frame, indicating her life upon the field of battle. Upon the small of her back, a scar spans from her right ribcage to her left hip, appearing as claw marks. Upon the elf's back were tattooed a pair of wings resembling that of a Valkyrie. The tattoo was ornate, and done with perfection in shades of black and gray; the wings seem to sprout from her scapulae. The bottom tine of her tattoo was disrupted, marred by the claw-like scar. The pads of her hands are worn from the years of abuse, wrapped around the shaft of a lance. A mythrite ring hugs her right index finger, baring the crest of House Delacroix. Around her ankle, the elf wears a delicate silver chain. Her legs are long, with strong thighs and calves.
♦ Behavior
- A closet stress-smoker.
- Painfully proper in both mannerism and speech
- The elf is very much a guardian, her sense of self revolves around protecting others
- Can be blunt and down right rude. However, she'll always twist it in the most verbose manner possible
- While not quick to anger, when her temper does rise it's volcanic
- She fears above all else, dying alone
Not all are capable of defending themselves. It is my duty to shield the meek, This is why I sought to join the Dragoon Order.
Combat
★ Recent RP events ★
The events unfold before my eyes, clouded in a crimson haze. The snow whips about my fallen face, stinging my cheeks and chilling me to my core. I have fallen, laying prostrate on the ground, unable to get up. The weight upon my back is coupled with an intense pain in the small of my back and left shoulder. The clatter of battle seems far away, it is as though cotton has been stuffed in my ears. I cannot escape the incessant ringing. The bodies of my dead and dying comrades have been strewn haphazardly across the courtyard. I cannot help them. At the far corner, the massive beast unfurls his wings as he tears gleefully at the body clad in spiked mail. Isaac. No.
It is as if time has slowed to a crawl, a peculiar sensation. An enraged cry causes me to turn my head. Illizier. My brother raises his enormous zweihander, the blade dripping with the blood of his foe. Our father's precious blade. He charges the glittering cerulean monster that rends his twin's corpse asunder. The dragon releases Isaac's body, casting it aside as a rag doll. The screech of steel against talon jars me from my state. Time picks up, and the sounds of this Hell come rushing at me. The adrenaline courses through my veins suddenly and with renewed vigor. The drake atop me opens his maw for the killing blow to my neck. The bastard does not get the chance to end my life. The concealed knife is torn from my hip. I turn and scream savagely as I thrust the blade into the drake's open maw, goring it through. The blade protrudes from the back of the creature's skull, its blood gushing down my arm. I push the corpse from atop me, turning my attention back to my brother.
Tendencies
|
|
|
|
♦ Related Images
Relationships
|
|
Rumours
Player Character Rumours
- ■
♦ Footnotes
Alignment:
Theme song: