Name: Leyla Ayelet Geula Blum
Nickname:Age: 680 (appears 14)
Gender: Female
Rank: Pet to Envy
Weapon(s): Leyla carries a wooden handled hatchet. Its head it made of black iron with silver swirling designs around its edge. The blunt side has a faded red ribbon tied around it, a neat bow tied around its handle. Its handle is roughly a foot in length and stained with red splatters that hardly need to be explained. The same red splatters dot across the bow at the base of the head.
Personality: Leyla is always striving to be the best no matter what it may be. If she saw some one running she would chase after them just in hopes of being faster. If she saw some one dancing she would copy their movements and try and do it even better. Though she obviously cannot be good at everything and when she proves this fact for herself and meets some one better than herself she cannot stand it. If the eyes that were once upon her shift to another then that new annoyance instantly changes her mood. Most commonly taking her rage is her stuffed rabbit, Prince Roscoe Pipkin Ollie, as her hands have left the area around its neck loose and frayed from her light grip as she strangles the poor thing despite it being her most prized possession, even more so then her beloved hatchet. Unfortuneately sometimes Prince Roscoe Pipkin Ollie just isn't enough and the source of her distaste becomes the poor soul that meets her wrath, often a bit too gruesomely so.
She can be a sweet girl which matches her appearance. When she is getting her way she could be said to be cheery, pampering Prince Roscoe Pipkin Ollie like the dear toy he is. She also spends that time singing with a bright cheerful smile, seeming like the completely opposite of the murderous girl.
It would be expect that since she envies the talents of others she would want the best of the physical luxuries the world had to offer. Oddly enough this is not true. If one does not count her want to be the most beautiful with the best clothes then they could say the physical items in life meant nothing to her. She has her hatchet and stuffed rabbit. She could make a home on the corner of a street if she needed to so long as attention belonged to her.
Physical Appearance: Leyla is small for her height of 5'4, having long, thin limbs that are not exactly bony but don't exactly meen to have much meat on them either. She keeps to this throughout, thin with a flat stomach and nothing above an average chest. Her rather pathetic looking size make her strength surprising, especially when such a small girl comes running at you with a powerful swing of her hatchet. Her blonde hair is thick and falls down to the middle of her back with straight bangs cut just above her eyes. She often decorates her hair with ribbons or small hats she considers cute. Her Irises are a bright gold color, with a sparkles behind them when she is pleased and distant looking when she is enraged.Her skin is fair, adding to the cuteness of her overall look.
She wears a black dress, the bodess being form fitting. It buttons up in the front with black heart shaped buttons, ruffles decorating the front with a sheer part around her chest and reaching up to her neck. It is sleeveless with more ruffles trimming at her shoulders as well as where it meets the full black skirt. At the bottom of the skirt the black fabric becomes bunches, held up if crimson ribbons matching those of her hatchet. Underneath the black fabric an underlying layer makes itself known, one of a soft white. On her arms she wears black gloves the reach up to the middle of her biceps, bows placed there too. She wears thigh high black stocking, of course embellished with more ribbons.On her feet are clunky black heels with a band of ribbon going around them. Around her neck is yet another bow, matching all the rest.
- Spoiler:
Bio:As a human: Leyla was born in Paris in 1333 on the poorer side of the city, often where university students gathered..well because after partying their funds away where else were they left to go and rent out buildings? Her father had been killed a few months prior to her birth and because of such her mother was left to take on work to keep herself and the new child fed and healthy. Since she was constantly working, Leyla was left in the care of the older women in the same neighborhood, all of whom adored her, always calling her their favorites.
Even as a young child she enjoyed making a spectacle of herself. She would go out in the streets when she had the chance to sneak away from her caretakers. She would walk up to random groups of strangers, who of course became people she became quite familiar with after time, getting their attention by pulling on their clothes. she would introduce herself, putting on her largest smile as she asked them questions like if they liked her dress or if her hair was cute that day. Even the grumpiest of men and the most stuck up of women found themselves unable to deny the girl the attention she wanted, finding she was instantly likable. It wasn't long before she could walk throughout her half of Paris and not stumble upon some one she didn't know, having to say hello near a few hundred times.
As she grew up her miniature fame only grew. She began to put on small shows on the corner of her street when she found out she could sing. And nothing is more adorable then a singing child so she drew in large crowds, even getting a few coins from those who passed over the river to the poor side of Paris. She was even getting praise from her mother who's attention she had yet to fully grasp due to her schedule and the exhausted state she had put herself into. It was all perfect. She had all the attention of her small little world. There wasn't a face that didn't smile at her and there wasn't a one of those smiles that didn't wish her a good day or say what a sweet girl she was.
As more and more trade came through rumors of a deadly illness spread through the street. Out of curiosity as always, Leyla listened in on conversations of people who walked by when she realized they were about herself anymore, no matter how loud and well she sang. What was even more terrifying than the lack of attention was what she heard instead. A plague, with no cure, hitting Italy. People were dying there. And the blasted italians had realized much too late. They had gone on traveling through Europe, passing along their goods as well as passing along the deadly disease. It had begun to strike other places and it was only a matter of time before it reached her Paris as well.
It finally happened. Leyla was out singing like she did every afternoon, without a care in the world. However something seemed off about the day. She noticed worried faces of adults as they walked down the street past her corner. They were uttering something the girl just couldn't pick up on. Later in the afternoon she saw a crowd of people coming, all dressed in black, a cloud seeming to hang over their heads. And then she realized just what rumors had been spreading about She was still a young lady but she wasn't stupid. Her voice faded out in a matter of seconds and suddenly it became hard to breath. Her throat was tense, her lips stuck in a straight line. She stared with large golden eyes as the crowd got closer. Among them she spotted a horse-drawn carriage, a casket being carried on the back of it. Leyla covered her mouth when they drew near, too afriad to breath in the air around the body as it passed by. She could tell she looked in horror when she received a few unkind looks and she quickly corrected her faults, bowing deeply in apology as well to pay respect to the one who had been claimed by the new illness.
She recognized near every face, figuring it must have been some one she knew. Oddly enough pain didn't wrack her heart. Instead her chest burned. A quarter of the city must have been attending this funeral. She felt rage for this fact. Not even on her best day did she have the attention of so many people. She desired it, above everything else. She didn't raise her head from its bow until after the gathering had past but when they did the most deadly of glares was sent their way. Traitors.
With the new realization that these kinds of things were only going to be happening more often. Leyla knew she had to make herself even more desirable and loved. She volunteered herself to sing at the growing number of funerals, basking in the way she brought smiles into eyes that had formerly been filled with dismay.
"She's so pure" they would say.
"Such a kind, selfless girl" others would comment.
"It's a tragedy such a girl should live through this tragedy" women lemented, tearing up at the thought.
"And yet she can still smile.."They were all amazed by the girl's spirit. In the middle of death that plagued the city, such a young girl, just entering her teenage years, she was able to stand up tall and show more hope than any of them could ever imagine too. They fretted over the loss of their loved ones. They feared that the plague would strike them next. They saw entire families disappear from the street at a time and they wished not for the same fate for themselves. And yet she was there singing beautifully, wearing her best, with her face bright and filled with glee. It was like an inspiration.
The death toll continued to rise, entire streets were emptied overnight it seemed and private funerals were no longer an option. The priests who took last rights, the lawyers who handled wills, the coroners who took care of the bodies, the men and women who had to move those bodies, all fell victim to the spreading plague. Ditches were dug in the side streets where not a single soul lived anymore and those ditches were filled with the rotting corpses. At first they were neatly put into rows still showing some respect. However when it became too much, the deceased were tossed in without a care about where they may land. All the while Leyla watched from her corner, who smile growing brighter every day. Those people were paying for dragging attention away from her. They had started with grand ceremonies that fillled the streets and now those bloody souls did not have a single person in the world who cared about them. No one even thought twice about the beliefs that those soulls would not be able to rest in their afterlives with the lack of ritual they were given. It was all too perfect.
But just like everyone else, Leyla wasn't safe from the black death. She found herself bed ridden with swell lymph nodes the size of grape fruits, a raging temperature that would not fade no matter how she shivered with chills. Breathing became difficult for the girl. Her skin was being soaked with blood as flesh decayed. More blood exited her body as she was left to spit it up from her throat, effectively leaving a disgusting coppery taste in her mouth as well as pains from the constant heaving. She was exhausted and plagued by fear. But only fear of the death that would be soon awaiting her.
She was left completely alone. All were terrified of what might happen to them if they drew too near to anyone with the plague. She had even heard of a man that had climbed up a tree to keep his distance from those that came to him for their last wills. No one was going to come see their beloved Leyla in the state she was in...and that made her furious.
Leyla spent her days and nights screaming, wearing out any voice she had left. When that finally gave out she thrashed around, not caring how it drained her energy. She was left to writhe in pain, lost in her sorrows. But this was not something she was just going to accept. no way in hell!
"No! This...this isn't right!!" With what strength she could gather, Leyla forced herself out of bed, stumbling down the stair on weak legs that were marred with black swelling spots that leaked with blood. No matter how it ached she made it, using the wall for support as she made short slow steps to the door, swaying as she left her home. Eyes were most definitely one her again. Who would be able to look away from the bloodied, much too thin, pale, sickly looking excuse of a human that came limping out into the middle of the street. But what seemed more attracting was the heart broken look upon her face.
Leyla was staring blankly from her corner, brows knitted. Her tiny fist were balled up and trembling. Just across the street was a girl the same age as herself if not a bit younger. She was disgustingly plain, dirty brown hair, a ratty grey dress that did nothing for her. Her face was dirty and her eye brows were far to think. Her skin was too naturally pale to be deemed even pretty. She wasn't small nor was she large but some awkward shape. But the voice that came out of her mouth made Leyla lose anything she had previously grasped as reality. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. Ever note was perfect with the greatest melody and rhythm.
"How..?" She stepped forward, nearly falling as pain shot up her thin leg. She caught herself as others watched her struggle, not in the slightest bit willing to help the girl they had once praised. She eyed them with faded hazel eyes brimming with tears. This wasn't right. As she looked around her eyes again fell upon the girl. This was her fault! Leyla's expression went from hopelessness to pure rage.
She forgot every bit of pain she was feeling and suddenly lunged forward, running toward the girl in a sloppy manner. No one came in time to stop her form pouncing on the girl and the girl was far too caught up in showing her up to notice until she was on the flat of her back, frantically flailing like an animal under Leyla. Leyla herself was trembling but not from pain or weakness. In fact she felt stronger than ever. Her fingers were tightly locked around the plain girl's neck, her nails digging into flesh, a smile written over her face though her eyes seemed to be elsewhere.
A second later hands were on her, trying to pull her away from their new distressed angel. She wasn't having any of that. Leyla bit into whatever hand dared to touch her, and immediately they backed off, knowing full well it was more than likely that they were being infected by the blonde child.
"A monster!""What happened to that sweet girl?!""Some one has to stop her! She's going to kill the girl!""Oh god she's-!"Before the last woman could finish, Leyla was lurched over, vomitting blood into the girl's face. The brunette cried out , trying not to breathe, which was aided by the choking, as she weeped. Leyla slumped over, her grip loosening. She stared at those who were taking the chance to try and rush forward to help and knew that it was over. She turned her head, looking the brunette girl striaght in her ugly black eyes, her own narrowed in a disgusted glare. She forced herself up one more time and launched her face into the girl's neck, clamping down with her teeth, her mouth filling up with blood. She heard a scream and when she ripping her head back that scream became gurgly and she felt flesh still in her mouth. It became clear when she looked down that she had taken a chunk of the girl with her and blood was squirting and pouring from the wound she left. Leyla spit the flesh from her mouth with a proud smile as her vision faded and she fell to the side, her world becoming black.
In hell: Leyla awoke within the depths of hell, not sure of anything. She wandered throughout without a clue in the world as to what she was doing. She caught wind of the word of embodiments of sins, those who were above everyone else. That was certainly one was to go and upset her. How could they be so great? She doubted they were anything stories told them of being. She could take out a number of fellow togabito with no trouble. They couldn't be much better than herself. It was a stupid thought.
Then she happened to stumble upon the one called envy. How wrong she was before. The woman was strong, very strong. She couldn't stand it. she wasn't a sight to look at but she was levels above Leyla. It was a repeat of that human life she could no longer remember. She became haunted by visions of what her unknown past was and she was nearly driven to insanity. She couldn't stand not being the best, not having the fame and attention that sin got. And what better way to overthrow than to become a servant? One so close to the sin? Oddly enough their sins matched perfectly, even if for different reasons. She confronted the woman, lowering herself to a pet for the sin, no matter what rage boiled within her just by looking at that woman. It was a sickening plan but she was determined to make it work.
Ability: Ribbon...manipulation? and formation or stretching?? (o_o ...i'm sorry xD)
Techniques:*Paleni Pasky- By sending her spiritual energy throughout the ribbons under her control she makes them weapons to the touch. Whatever they may touch will instantly be burned by their surface. The number of ribbons currently being used plays its role in the power of the burning. The number of ribbons groupe together also plays its own role, since the more that are gathered the more spirit energy would be condensed there.
*deset tisic temat- the strands of her ribbons unwind, all becoming lone strnds strengthened by her spirit energy. With this power running through them they become stronger than ordinary threads, as strong as steel. she can control each one of these harder to spot strands the same way she would control her ribbons.
*Bonde Pasky- Each of her ribbons has a pointed end rather than a straight one. When her spirit energy is added into her ribbons they ends can be used like blades, ready to stab into whatever may stand in their way if they have the strength to.
Role-play Sample:
never e.e *click here*
Statistics:
Rank/level - ADP-0
Hankou - 11
Reiryoku - 9
Hakudo - 12
Seijuu - 8
Bukijuu - 10
Hoho - 10
Points awarded:
Total points: 60
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