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Iaera Naaheed

"I am Iaera, The Swallower of Swords, The Eater of Fire, The Queen of Hearts."

0 · 827 views · located in Jupiter, Florida

a character in “The Cabinet of Curiosities”, as played by MaliceInWonderland

Description

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BASICS


ImageImage{ FULL NAME }
Iaera Naaheed

{ AGE }
26

{ ROLE }
Sword Swallower
Fire Eater



WHAT DO YOU LOOK LIKE?


Image{ HEIGHT & WEIGHT }
Iaera stands a 5'10, a weighs in at about 130llbs, she is thin, with a slender frame

{ APPEARANCE }
Iaera is equals freaky as she is beautiful, with her wide far spaced eyes, her small but perfectly heart shaped lips, and warm skin that is somewhere between beige and brown, with slick black hair that she has styled in the most oddest of ways. Her wardrobe is quite similar in that aspect, from leather and lace, to metal works and flowers. It is difficult to tell what it going to come from her next.


WHO ARE YOU?


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{ SEXUALITY }
Pan- She can be attracted to just about anyone.

{OCCUPATION DESCRIPTION}
Iaera is a Sword Swallower, and a Fire Eater and as the title says, she swallows swords, but not in the traditional sense, sword swallowing is an ancient skill in which the performer passes a sword through the mouth and down the esophagus to the stomach.

She is also a Fire Eater, and unlike most who uses tricks, she does actually put the fire into her mouth, to extinguish it ,among other tricks



{ PERSONALITY }
Iaera is mysterious and enigmatic, she tends to make those around her both uncomfortable, and intrigued all at the same time. She finds enjoyment in that and can be flirty and playful because of it. She speaks in riddles, she likes to confuse people so she purposely speaks in a way that makes them have to guess at what she is saying. She is gifted in half truths, bending the truth just before it breaks. Her motives for doing anything is mostly having to do with curiosity, but that just makes her impossible to trust.
Iaera is exceptionally calculating and cunning, and puts her cleverness to good use. A perfect actress, she loves to manipulate - an exercise of power and control. There's always an intrigue she's working on or a hidden agenda that needs pondering. She is a femme fatale if there ever were one. There is an element of mystery that surrounds her, she carries herself with a regal aire and expects to be treated as such. When she walks into a room, all attention goes straight to her, and she prefers it that way,often rubs people up the wrong way.



WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL WHAT?

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{ LIKES }
Music
Dancing
Riddles
Fire
Men
Women
Flirting


{ DISLIKES }
Giggles
Normals
Sitting Still


{ FEARS }
Giggles....

{ GOOD HABITS }
She doesn't judge, she accepts people for who they are, freaky flaws and all.

{ BAD HABITS }
She tends to violate to peoples person space
She is a terrible flirt.
She breaks out into dance, and riddles mid conversation.



History

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{ HISTORY }
WIP


OTHER

ImageImage{ FACE CLAIM }
FKA Twigs

{ COLOR }
#804000

{ THEME SONGS }
Carnivalstep– Dr. Ozi

So begins...

Iaera Naaheed's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Thalassa Character Portrait: Iaera  Naaheed Character Portrait: Aletea Applegate Character Portrait: Lottie Velkin Character Portrait: Matthaus Ivano Character Portrait: Paul Dellinger
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With each bite of the apple the blonde began to realize just how muggy Florida was. She remembered vacationing in the state with her family when she was smaller. There was two things you couldn't forget about Florida - the humidity and the ocean. A dreamy look crossed Thalassa's normally stoic facial features as she reminisced on the serene, crystal blue water that beckoned on-lookers to come nearer as if the waves themselves coaxed them closer. There was just something about water that appealed to the blonde, the divine sound of waves crashing on the shore, the lure of the sunlight as it reflected off the surface, and the enticing warmth of the salty water as it lapped over your feet-

The dreamy look disappeared as realized that in her daydream-like state she had startled the tall maiden. Thalassa's eyes quickly flickered away from the girl as she waved, avoiding all eye contact once Charlotte began to make her way over. Thalassa knew almost everyone's name, she was good at putting names to faces and Elsa had advised her to know the names of all the cabinet. She awkwardly looked toward the sky, as if checking the weather, squinting as the right side of her face scrunched up - reacting to the bright sun as her lips parted revealing her sharp canines. Her attention was back on the girl as she spoke, particularly the cut that adorned the forehead as the tall girl bent over in an attempt to attain the same eye level. "How did you get that?" Thalassa asked, ignoring how rude she came across as she seemed to have disregarded what the girl had said before Charlotte held her hand out: it took T a moment as her attention flickered to the hand presented in front of her. She barely heard what the girl asked, let alone said - catching her comment on the weather, Thalassa bit back a sardonic joke about "How's the weather up there?" - luckily she already knew the girl's name. She shook her confusion away as she apprehensively shook Lottie's hand. "Thalassa." She muttered, almost mechanically now - she had gotten so use to having to give her name. She understood why they were called the Cabinet of Curiosities. "Do you need some help with that cut?" She asked before really thinking it through, she had no idea how she could help. Suppose I could get water and help her clean it..she thought to herself as she peered up at Lottie for a moment before looking back to the apple in her hand and taking another bite.

As she waited for an answer from Lottie her eyes flickered from one person to another. Matthaus had already set up his tent which took him no-time, clearly he was a pro at setting tents - A pro that Paul seemed to had recruited to help set up his own tent. The sight of the two going to set up a tent reminded the blonde that she needed to ask Elsa where she was to set up her own tent. Elsa made it clear she wanted Thalassa away from any of the valuable acts' tents - didn't want things to end up..missing. Her gaze flickered to a the doll-like girl who had made camp near Paul. Her name was unique, one that Thalassa couldn't quite remember - she knew it started with an A or T. Her gaze studied the deep blue color of the right side of the girl's head, it reminded her of the deepest depths of the oceans as the girl disappeared into the main tent where all the acts performed. Her thought process then took a left turn as she scanned the area looking for Iaera. She was the first person Elsa introduced her to, and T developed a sort of apprentice/mentor relationship with the beige goddess who ate fire - something she would never understand as a water lover.

Thalassa's attention was back on Lottie, hoping she hadn't zoned out again. She really needed to learn how to make better first impressions. She remembered Iaera telling her that she needed to learn to smile, make guests feel more comfortable around her. So, she decided to experiment as she gave a rather lopsided grin to Lottie - more so a smirk as the right side of her mouth curved more than the left. She sighed at her failed attempt at being "friendly."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jean Rainey Character Portrait: Thalassa Character Portrait: Augustus Tenebrae Character Portrait: Iaera  Naaheed Character Portrait: Hecate Alptraum Character Portrait: Ramona Oh
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Friday, May 12th, 1952.
Jupiter, FL.



Routinely busy pedways are barren in Jupiter, Florida. Not more than twenty hours ago, murders were confirmed in the placid pastel township. Businesses are dull, devoid of revenue and company. Managers idly kick rocks at the stoops of their establishments while a single cloud passes overhead. You wouldn’t think it was the beginning of a weekend. The air is stiff and muggy, whispers of homicide coating the silence with poisonous gossip. A word or two is spoken of the visiting Cabinet of Curiosities. The sun hoists itself up on an invisible string and cooks the world below as if it were putting the blame on Jupiter for its own tragedy.




“Did you hear about those freaks rolling in yesterday?”

“Police didn’t even think to check one of those tacky train cars for the missing children.”

“One of those weirdos could have eaten them!”

“I might buy a ticket, though.”

“God himself could not create creatures so monstrous.”






The police department finds nothing to go on, not even a hint as to whether the missing children are dead, kidnapped, or runaways. Their work is composed and tedious, even for a group of presumed hay-chewing imbeciles. Jupiter’s protective bubble disintegrates as citizens’ minds go amok with fear. Television screens flicker with washed out images and reports of no new found evidence. Ads aimed to put color into an otherwise drab world invite locals to a traveling freak show.

Two miles outside of town, the rented fairgrounds are aglow and engaged. Accordions, violins, and trumpets play a happy, upbeat tune. The hiss in between its melody gives a sinister warning to those who pay attention. Elsa Mars sways on a dirt path, smoke leaving her mouth while she gives pointers as her performers walk by. A woman that appears double her height passes. FrĂ€ulein glances up and croons, “Tonight I want you to hold my sweet Matthaus and Ramona on those strong shoulders. They will do the rest.” The amazonian beauty nods and continues toward her makeshift residence for last minute prep. In her wake comes a snarling dark haired boy, alpha aura rolling off of him like thick sweat. Elsa bats an eye at him, a carnal look of approval, but advisory on her tongue, “Keep the growling to a minimum, schönen jungen, unless you are in your cage. We cannot afford to frighten any customers away this time around. Rip your shirt off or something, the ladies will pay extra.”

While a tall, tattooed man combs his hair, a flaxen haired woman with lips as red as coral peeks around a corner. She has a pen and notepad on hand. She is quick to duck whenever Elsa looks her way. A dark haired girl walks past the wash troughs, a handful of clanking hooks held by pale fingers. An older man pushes a wheelbarrow full of other sharp, stainless steel behind her. He is quieter than the rest, with soot smearing his hands and neck. His eyes are flecked with era and knowledge, years worth of stories beyond them. He is a handyman. Behind him trots yet another part of the string of conveyance.

She is tiny and wide eyed, wrapped in periwinkle silk that matches her lipstick. Elsa snaps at her, “Don’t drag that fabric! Das ist schrecklich, Thalassa worked her hands to the bone ensuring that dress looked perfect!” Like a smaller twin or protĂ©gĂ©, a girl with tow-colored hair and a round face cracks to attention and nods. She was the seamstress of which Elsa spoke. To avoid further madness, or upsetting FrĂ€ulein, a lithe young man scoops the periwinkle doll off her feet and carries her like precious cargo. He is careful in how he touches her, cautious not to let the adored fabric get caught on his scale-like skin. He doesn’t want to hear anymore complaining from Elsa about how careless her troupe can be. But he too, is quiet.

Customers line up an hour early, easily a hundred or more of them. They’re eager to throw their money into the ticket booth. Even women holding infants smile and keenly wait their turn. Others hold the hands of whining children. Hungry looking men stare after the glimpses of a tawny skinned woman carrying fire beyond the gates. She hums quietly and gives a brief word of encouragement to a girl with orange, sunshiney hair. The show is going to begin, in spite of it being much earlier than anticipated.

I have melted somehow back into one, lumpy piece. That’s the charm of the blazing southern sun, I suppose. I avoided being digested in a twist of fortune and find myself bonding to my other circus peanut colleagues. My wildest aspiration is to continue cohering until I form myself into the biggest circus peanut known to man. Then, I too, will have a spot in FrĂ€ulein’s Cabinet of Curiosities. My dreams are dashed for the time being, as my bag, my home, is handed off to a man and his family. He clenches the plastic so tightly I fear I may suffocate. We pass under striped fabric. I pray that I am alive long enough to finally see the show for myself. Elsa greets her audience in both German and English and the applause is tremendous as the music begins.

And I know, even if I am not long for this world, I can die happy, here in the presence of performers and exquisite curiosity.
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