Name: Shuala Chanoni
Age: 22
Gender: female
Appearance: She is a petite and coltish girl often swallowed by her wardrobe, a giant deep crimson cape generally surrounds her entire form. Beneath, a white, fluttering, loose-fitting tunic. Her fair skin is littered with freckles and lightly tanned from long days drifting in the golden hours of the day. Her face is sprightly and round, small rosey lips seemed permanently pursed into a mischievous smirk. Her cheeks are always rosy, giving a good-natured playful feel to her expression, but her biting eyes always imply the contrary. Deep amber colored orbs float behind a disheveled mahogany colored hair, glinting and toying with their subject. As a shape-shifter, she often takes the form of various woodland creatures she's fond of.
Nationality: Sergad
Power Name/Effect: She has the ability to shape-shift. She must understand her subject, study their every behavior, essentially, get inside their very being before she can imitate their form. The art takes a long time to master, so she generally sticks to a few choice forms: A fox, sparrow, owl, doe, and a wolf in battle. She often secretly takes the form of her dead brother when alone.
Weapon(If your character uses one): She generally fights using a pair of elongated daggers sheathed near her boot when in human form.
Personality: Impish and conniving, Shuala loves to play tricks on people. Taking delight in the manipulation of those around her, it's difficult to decipher what is the truth and what is a lie. Studying and reading people are important for her ability, so it isn't rare for her to use these abilities to wreak mental havoc for the hell of it. When she laughs, it's generally at the expense of others, and a biting sarcasm is stained on her entire being. She isn't one to avoid altercations, and in fact, relishes in them.
Bio: As a child, she grew up on a small farm within a dense wood, away from most civilization. She had two older brothers, so she grew to be quite a tomboy, casting away femininity with disdain. Her father and her brothers tended to the crops as well as cut wood, fashioning it into the most fantastic furniture, instruments, and trinkets which her father would often travel to the cities to sell. She saw herself as a lump of wood, about to whittle whatever she would like out of it. Her mother often played music, and she heard whispers from her brothers that she was once a renowned musician. Her father was a gruff man, but she did not need affection to know he loved her. Her brothers loved her and showered her with attention. Many hours were spent playing hero with makeshift swords fashioned from scrap wood. They would crash through the wood, pursuing imaginary demons, and collapse in the fields, chewing idly at sweet grass and giving name to the clouds. They made up their own myths and histories, unfamiliar and ignorant to things acknowledged as common sense to most.
At eleven, she took in an injured sparrow. This allowed her to study it's strange form and characteristics. They definitely though differently than a person. She began to imagine herself as a sparrow, reacting to different stimuli as though she were the tiny frail bird. Her brothers thought her strange for pretending, but she found it fun. She began fantasizing that she could fly. One day, leaning heavily upon the window sill, she imagined herself flying to a branch just outside the window as the sun was setting. She closed her eyes and felt her arms beating in the circular strokes, her legs growing thin and reversing, and feathers covering and warming her body. She attributed this to her fantastical mind, though it felt so real, but as she suddenly opened her eyes, she realized her arms were covered in feathers, and her legs had mutated. The transformation was far from complete--how could an eleven year old truly understand the physiology of a sparrow?--but this unleashed a new realm to the tiny girl. She began spending all her days hiding in the wood, practicing her transformation. She was able to shrink her size, and grow a partial beak. The more she understood and noticed, the further she could transform. One day, while she was practicing becoming a hare, she smelled the deep stench of oak burning in the distance. A fire had consumed the entire wood, and was raging towards her humble home. She raced towards her home, unable to concentrate on a full transformation, part human, part deer, with the feathers of an owl agitated upon her back. Her eyes wildly searched for her family. Her father and her brothers were attempting to fight back the flames. When her oldest brother turned and saw her, he was overcome with shock and horror. It was at that moment that the barn collapsed overhead, burying her family beneath the burning rubble. She tried to save them, the scars from those horrific burns still haunt her hands to this day. She can hide them at will now, but usually allows them to show, not wanting to forget.
Theme Song: Shostakovich String Quartet No. 8 in C Minor (III)
I understand.