Full Name: Ser Auroria Bellente Lystic
Nickname: 'Flix'
Age: 21
Sex: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Height: 5"7
Weight: 140 lbs
Hair Color: A light pink, dyed in an act of rebellion against the strict Armae'tage rules, a futile act that went unrecognized.
Eye Color: A cold grey-blue.
Complexion: Pale.
Physique: Her physique is skinny but wiry, lean muscles that are the product of extreme exercise.
Likes:

- Junk food
- Dreamless sleep
- Classical music
- Elegant clothing (not that she ever gets the chance to wear it)

Dislikes:

- Fish
- Cramped spaces
- Overly cheerful people

Position: Ser
Citizenship: Pandorian

Strengths:

- Impressive agility
- Determination
- Knowledge of Runae Maig
- Knowledge of hand-to-hand combat and pistols.

Weaknesses:
- Obsessive
- Lacks consideration for her own life or others when in combat
- Acts mercilessly in battle, leading to increased self-hate and destruction
- Extremely violent outbursts.

Personality: Auroria has one of those personalities that are near impossible to pin down, varying upon who it is she's talking to, what she's doing - even what she's eating at the time. When at leisure she can be friendly enough, happy to chat or offer somebody help, not excessively cheerful but not what you'd refer to as a cold kind of person. No, Auroria is just fine. She's opinionated, brash but overall honest - a good person. That is until you strap her into her armor, slip those pistols into her hands and direct her into action - then you'd be lucky if she recognised you, heck, you'd be lucky if she didn't put a bullet into your brain for saying hello. It's like when she's working that inner part of her, that innocence and goodness, get's locked away - safe from the deeds she has to commit. She's well known throughout the Armae'tage for her heartless actions, her complete lack of mercy, or for a better term - humanity. Her peers nicknamed her 'Flix', for that ability to switch from a relatively normal girl to the vicious character she is in a fight. It's not only her peers that have a nickname for her however, oh no, the populants of Des have a name for her too - 'Baestros' An old Nelariathean monniker meaning 'one who has no heart or soul, a shadow of humanity. Auroria is perfectly aware what they think of her, aware of each drop of blood spilled by her hands, each face that she's hurt or captured and sent to the hell of Des. Each voice, each cry, each scream. She saves them up, like chocolates, storing away each memory to be savoured later on. So that when she lies awake at night she feels each act as intensely, as painfully as others would've at the time, allows it to torment her as she repeats every moment second by second in her mind until it is all she dreams of. Auroria doesn't do this because she enjoys the agony, because of some half-cooked theory of repentance, but because it's the only way to prove to herself she still can feel like that. That she hasn't become what she most fears - a 'true' soldier. Because the secret of Auroria that nobody realises, not even the people she spends every waking moment with, is that she hates what she does - hates the violence, the injustice of the system she is a part of and most importantly, she hates herself. So why does she continue?

"You think those tears are going to solve anything little girl? That they're going to bring your parents back? Make the world fair again? Well they won't. Only you can do that. So get your ass up and get it into a Ser uniform, do those parents proud."- Ser Grynchlt Maedene

History: Auroria was born into the splendour of Pandora, straight into that opulent, lush womb that wrapped it's inhabitants in a beautiful gauze of imagined safety and riches. She grew up sheltered from the darker side of life, beloved by her successful parents - one a councilman, the other a librarian - crime a fanciful notion from the storybooks she devoured. Auroria loved a good adventure tale, a battle of good versus evil, often imagining herself as the gallant heroine. Ironic considering. Unfortunately this idealistic way of life couldn't continue for long, the world never worked that way did it? The higher you climb, the harder the fall. On the day of her ninth birthday her parents decided she was old enough to ride the Trae Lines out into the countryside, a day trip would be made of it, with food and presents. The perfect day out. They didn't even make it to the station. In fact they were barely out of the building where they lived when a man came running round the corner, accompanied by screams and the authorative shouts, his skin purple and his eyes glazed with fever. In his trembling hand he held a large pistol, occasionally he fired it over his shoulder, though not at any particular targets. The sound of Armae'tage vehicles could be heard nearby, every second getting closer, it wouldn't be long until they caught up with their target. The man suddenly stopped dead in front of Auroria and her parents, his eyes unfocused and sweat dripping from his forehead as he raised his pistol, "I won't. I won't go to that hell hole. You can't make me. I won't, d'yu hear me? I WON'T." On the final word he fired, two shots that finally hit their mark perfectly. Auroria's parents fell to the ground beside her, blood oozing from their skulls and their limbs already loose and lifeless. The crazed Xephon once again raised his weapon, but before it could properly target the small girl a round of bullets was fired. The man dropped to the ground, his body riddled with wounds, for the moment overwhelmed by these new agonies - enough time for a team of sers to move forwards and force him into submission.
Nine year old Auroria paid no attention to their movements, she was already knelt beside her parents, blood staining her clothes and tears dripping down her face as she stroked their cold skin. The weight of their loss was almost too much to concieve, as if the human mind wasn't capable of such a horrific experience, the shock of what happened fending off any true emotions from setting in. It was minutes before she even realised Maedene standing beside her, his cold eyes trained on her as he rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. He spoke, clearly having made his decision, speaking the words she'd remember for a lifetime. He dragged her from that unspeakable place, took her with him back on the shuttle to Armae'tage quarters, all along the way explaining to her how to throw a variety of punches, forcing her to mimic the movements. He didn't let her feel the pain of what happened even for a moment, keeping her constantly on the move, enrolling her in the academy, finding her somewhere to sleep - someone to clean the blood off of her. It wasn't until she was alone in bed that she was allowed the time to relive her memories, to meet the eyes of that man again, to hear the click of his gun and the thud of her parent's bodies hitting the ground. The next days this routine was repeated, during the day she started her lessons, started training, even at mealtimes she was accompanied by Grynchlt. He explained to her that he couldn't bare to see a girl cry, that there were far better ways to honour her parents death then waste time and energy weeping about it. That the best thing she could do was too join the Armae'tage, to help stop the Xephons from harming any other people, that if she really loved her mother and father that she would work hard to succeed at her job. Auroria accepted this logic as only a child can, throwing herself into training and studying, grasping the gruff and distant Grynchlt as the only role model she had left.

So you have it. The beginning ofthe Baestros. Twelve years on and Maedene has passed away, his dying wish that she do him truly proud - that she become the next Gastonaan. Auroria is filled with the ambitions of the dead and it is for them that she carries on as a ser, even as every battle tears at her fragile morality further.

San`taic:Auroria was given her San'taic by Grynchlt on her sixteenth birthday, an expensive and unique model that had been crafted with her specifically in mind. Grynchlt, uncomfortable with showing any kind of affection, had the machine designed to supply just that. The little orb is constantly in close proximity to the girl, chirping loving tones and messages of support, trilling at any signs of attention from her. It's obsession with her, and it's robotic derision to those who insult her, is a source of much laughter among the other sers. In response to her san'taic she is aggressive and dismissive, constantly shutting it in closets and generally abusing the orb which only responds with further messages of adoration. Deep down however she cares greatly for the little machine and will not allow any harm done to it by others.