~<^>Claire Vandaline<^>~
Nov 12, 2014 16:41:56 GMT -7
Post by She of the Mighty Bow-Gun on Nov 12, 2014 16:41:56 GMT -7
None ~Pulverem future~
Female
Thirteen years old
Five Feet five inches
One-hundred fourty pounds
Chaotic, Good
TaiJutsu Master, Chakra Molding
Born to Rain Country
Loyal to Sunagakure
Appearance
The colorful clothing of Claire consist of many, many different offsets, beginning with her hood. Normally a royal blue in color, the entire top is actually just a part of her armor, light, colorful for the daytime but alternates to a black with red lining. The blue hood hangs far over her face to prevent most attempts at seeing into it to identify her, the very front is tipped like a beak of a falcon or some other bird of prey. She can sometimes be seen wearing goggles but only when he sun is especially bright or she is going into windy or sandy territory...like Suna is known to be.
The body of the hoodie is colorful like the plumage of a bird, she likes to follow that theme. It tends to have a red sleek line down he front where the track is, a royal blue/purple chest lace and trill that leads down to her body piece. The hooding covers mainly he head and shoulders, the body protected by a golden brown body suit made of a coarse leather on the outside but is smooth to the touch. her belt quiver is located on her right hip side for easy access to her pistol bow she also holds in her dominant hand, though she is a good shot with the left hand.
The leggings she wears are also leather, tight but flexible, consisting of belts and hooks to hang her weapons or reach for her own items. They were the same color as her op, offset by the royal blue of her cloak and hoodie. The cloak she wore was more an extension of her hoodie, tuckable to prevent snags or such from tripping her up. greave boots adorn her feet, more a light metal, hard leather, reinforced material.
Personality
What is a good word for a demon slaying, light footed, aerial flight combatant with a disposition of getting into trouble? Quirky. Claire is always one to get out and about, hunt the ghoulies and slay and baddies. The way she manages to approach this potentially fatal job is to smile and be light hearted. Even when she is standing over a near dead abomination she has something upbeat and happy to say. sometimes she has a tendency to slip into a dark place depending on the crimes the blight may have committed before extermination, but that is hearsay.
When she isnt hunting down the cursed and damned she can be found horsing around with her fellow Venators. She is rather young for the cause, seen as an exceptional one in her field of slaying and responsible enough to handle the tasks set before her. Quick witted, snarky, sometimes hyper and every a little screwy, when her friends and teammates are in trouble of legitimately losing their lives, i takes her to a dark place that earned her these demon slaying abilities in the first place.
Under heavy stress she becomes unresponsive verbally, stand offish and very stoic. Instead of answering with words she will usually enact some force of violent retaliation, using the pauses and opening in peoples words to throw her attacks in. Playing fair goes out the window and the gloves come on, every sneaky ,dirty and underhanded trick in the book is throw to ensure her victory. because of the way she fights when the dark nature awakens she walks the path of the Stalking Shadow, using the darkness of the world to cloak herself.
Background
Born to the pouring deluge of Ame no Kuni, her life was rather average, schooling was nothing special, even her village was rather unremarkable. In that village everyone worked day in and out, harvesting the plants that grew in such rain soaked areas and wearing the same ugly hooded poncho shoals. Even Claire herself is terribly average looking, unemotional and bland in most ways, even with her royal blue hair and piercing blue eyes. Even her parents were terribly bland and unappealing. However in this place hat held no significance in the world, the beginning of something irrefutably evil manifested.
In the middle of the night a fire ignited in the side of one of the houses, one that could not be quenched by the endless rains of Ame. This was no normal fire this 7 year old girl stared out at. The things that crawled out of that pentagram, that eviscerated the family inside the house. Outside mayhem erupted as people flew around in a frenzy, snatching up children to run but one of the demon locked eyes with her. It looked her in the eyes as it snatched the people up who ran by like they were insects, the way it just tore into them like this was normal. The cries and screams grew in number as more and more fires lit up and those things emerged, swallowing up her insignificant world and turning it into chaos, till reality fell away and all the noises faded, till it was just her and this living freak nightmare burning its image into her eyes.
She feared it, whatever it was, for destroying the her world and everything in it within a blink. The door to the front of her home flew open, shrill screams sounded, mother and father ushering her out the window. "No!" She screamed! Thundering footsteps rattling her little shack of a home. They didn't know. They didn't know there was one staring at her this whole time, watching, appraising her like some cattle to be purchased. The fires burned on the side of their house too and more demons poured through just beneath her, the sickly leathery skin smelling of fire and brimstone. None paid her any attention but the one, their connection was strong, there was something about her that seemed to transfix the monster. Harder her parents pushed, yelling for her to hop down, ushering and coaxing her to leap and run. "I cant! No, please!!" She cried, scrambling back against them, unable to fight their mature strength with her little body, unable to look away from that abomination that watched her with eerie patience.
When the one that had barged into their house was upon them her mother and father pushed her, their intention pure and out of love and sacrifice, using themselves to buy her this one chance to give, but ultimately sealing her fate. So she thought. Gasping, she fell into a barrel filled to the brim with the waters that fell from the weeping sky, emerging gasping and sputtering. She shuddered, the cold running bone deep, as she clambered out, tripping and stumbling, scared to look back in fear of the demon being right on her. so hard she ran till she reached the end of the village, able to take it all in one last time. That sight was just one of several haunting visages that held onto her till this day.
Fire clung to everything, even the sopping wet ground burned endlessly, black smoke clogged the air, the rain seemed like a hopeless ploy to foil the pentagrams searing themselves into the houses. Imps ran around carrying the dismembered fingers and limbs of the bigger demons feasts, cackling, making little chittering gesture like they were collecting trophies. It was a bloodbath a literal nightmare and the hammer of her heart drowned out the noise of the world. This land was damned, the eyes of the devil had fallen upon this average place and decreed "No one can miss, what they are ignorant to." Among the entrails and boiling blood stood him, it, that thing, that fucking blight upon her homeland. It just stared, smiled even, a deep and thunderous laughter echoing across the field and slamming into her as if she were right beside him. She was helpless against him, against this unimaginable force and the human in her was ashamed. Ashamed to have tucked tail and ran as friend and family were slaughtered and this one lone demon had watched her run like a scared rat. "Stop LAUGHING!!!!" It just boiled up from inside, her hand balled, tears streaming, the shame burned her soul it hurt so MUCH! the was the pain gored out her insides and left her raw and vulnerable.
She felt weak and fragile all at once, the adrenaline ebbed and flowing much like the waves of an ocean, filling her with a molten hot confidence that faded as soon as it was swelled. Turning, she ran...the laughing followed her for miles. She was faintly aware of the to wet trail that crawled down her leg as she toe through underbrush and overgrowth. no matter how far she ran that horrid noise followed, the visions of all those eviscerated people, that sickening feeling that billowed over her at the way their wide glassy eyes stared out hopelessly. Still alive as they hung half from the gaping maw of their worst nightmares, somewhere in the back of their mind the truth of the situation dawned on them, they knew they were dying, that shouldn't still be registering but the brain was an amazing thing, adrenaline just.. it blocked everything out. Bile stuck in the back of her throat the more she ran, the harder she pushed herself, no rest no water, just distance between her and them.
By the time she had found another soul she was malnourished, pale and sickly, falling into the hands of a cloaked figure who swept her up and into the shadows. There she learned of the Venator, arbiters of truth and justice, the vengeful sword in the heart of the Devil, harbingers and calamities that struck back on the ones who looked upon the human race and thought them weak. They trained her in the basics but she wanted more, needed it. She drank in all the knowledge they offered her and demanded more. The ones who took her in looked on at her progress with concern, fear even, that maybe...just maybe they too had made a mistake. She chose the crossbow, modified it into a pistol grip, never missed. He first hunt went down in minutes. The target having been a demon of her own nightmares, that plagued her thoughts whenever she closed her eyes, that danced behind her lids with each blink.
When she was deemed evenly versed with them at the age of 12 they left her in the village of sand at the end of a rather lengthy extermination. To hold down the fort and discourage any other ritualistic summonings in a way only she knew how. Mercilessly.
What she didn't know was he real reason the demon was laughing at her. It saw something not in her...but around her. Some ill omen that had led them to her village in the first place. She wasn't in tune with them yet but in time anything could chance. That bland girl died back there in the massacre 5 years ago, not in the mouth or the hands of an imp but the eyes of a demon. She remembered that face, every single fucking detail, and every time she shot her bow she shot with revenge. Incomprehensible indignation.