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Ankhaya Tsulaarai

to court myself under a violence of stars | taurus.

0 · 219 views · located in The Cosmos

a character in “Yuanfen”, as played by Εpιmetheus

Description

You can also simply not include anything at all, and encourage other players to explore this character's personality through roleplaying with them.You can also simply not include anything athem.
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        I too have taken the god into my mouth,
 chewed it up and tried not to choke on the bones.
 Rattlesnake it was, panfried, 
and good too though a little oily. All peoples are driven
 to the point of eating their gods
 after a time: it’s the old greed.


        ANKHAYA TSULAARAI
        taurus / 24 / ukhutaqyi / partial shifting / bitch idk


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                P A R T I A L . S H I F T I N G


                S I N G U L A R
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                Ankh pictures the stern curve of her prized bull's horns in her mind and feels the crack of bone in her skull follow. Where she pictures the application of the jagged claws of the leopard, the strong wings of the eagle, the vicious point of the shrike's beak, so follows the stretching of her flesh, the realignment of her frame. When she only takes on a singular characteristic of one animal, she can replicate it with a power scaled to her size and capabilities. Additionally, she may choose to take on a non-visible characteristic: the slow, slow, pump of the alligator's heart, or the poisonous venom of the rattlesnake.


                M U L T I P L E
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                Lately, she has learned to mix and match pieces like a jigsaw. Hooves of the goat to stay steady on the rocky crags with the ears of the owl to stay sharp and aware. When she draws inspiration from several sources at once, she can only grasp the physical nature of them, and only smaller ones. She can't turn her entire arm into the sinewy front hind of a leopard if there is something else in play, and must be contented with the paw of it.


                S I D E x E F F E C T S
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                Just as there is freedom in fear, there is liberation in pain. Ankh believes this, truly. Still, every turn of her bone makes her body shriek in agony, and it hurts, god it hurts to have her body deconstruct itself and reform around a new shape. While she has learned to shrug off the easy pain of simple transformations, there are others that leave her gasping for many long minutes before she can return to function.



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        L I K E S
        ☐ │stargazing, riding, feasts
        ☐ │ social gatherings, soft textiles
        ☐ │ beasts of burden, hawks, cities
        ☐ │ bow practice, physical challenges
        x x x x x x
        x
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        D I S L I K E S
        ☐ │ dishonesty, complaints, insects
        ☐ │ weaving, verbal conflict, uncertainty
        ☐ │ tedious work, math based games
        ☐ │ business, woodsmoke, storms






        the cicadas scream for what they cannot be





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E S S E N T I A
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"but we have the world
to roam over, only
the lonely are free."





moral alignment: neutral good
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        terra


        When the white silken locks of her hair fell, they hit the earth like tears. She could not cry for them, and the life they symbolized, and neither would the sky, so she pictured the fluttering as rainfall. Even now, when she wants the clouds to break, she pictures the rough edge of the blade that ripped through the hair, knicked the nape of her neck. It was a hide knife. She was being skinned like an animal. She pictures her nails as claws. She does not cry.

        The very first sight she remembers, when she thinks back the farthest she can, is the terrible vastness of the blue sky above them, then the firm earth below, the stretch into unending of the yellowing grass. Her favorite is of the sleek hairs of the mellow beasts of the herd as they bent their heads to chew the grass. There was no struggle in their ranks.

        She knows too much of struggle now. She wants a kind gaze, a selfless hand to take, but she looks around the room and sees eyes that linger like hovering carrions, waiting for a show of weakness. She is young and small besides their greying beards and savage hulks of bodies, but she grips their shoulders in greeting with the force of a lion's paw and sees them pull back to hover for another day. She does not betray the relief she feels.

        She doesn't even remember whose life Trirayi stole that night. She didn't concern herself with the keeping of the herd. It wasn't her crime. Only it was, because Trirayi was her family and she bore his sins the way he would bear hers if he had to do. But she had no of her own. Once, she accidentally scraped the scalp of her brother with an arrow (before she came she sharpest shot in the tribe), but he'd forgiven her. She'd been forgiven. Now she was condemned. The boy they buried in the earth wore finer cloaks than her family and had two lines down his face in dark red mud of the Aroxquratiy. Trirayi only wore one dot by his eye. Ankh had none. The cost of his life was more than they could ever hope to repay. Ankh stared down the possibility of servitude, of a life without value, with an unwavering gaze. Fear paralyzed her heart.

        Now her life is worth more than that tribe in its entirety could ever hope to repay, but the thought of it still turns her stomach in the same way it did then. She thinks, if she can, one say she will change this. If she can prove herself enough, if she can rip apart the earth with her bare hands, then they will have to hear her. She will not compromise, and she will not step back, and she will watch them all bow their heads in deference, and then things will run as she knows they should.

        For now, she plays within the system, as she did then. Because a life without value wasn't her only option. So was death. Or, rather, certain death. The leader of the tribe was infallible, it seemed to her then, lumbering and massive, eyes as sharp as a hawk and just as dark. She looked up to his gaze and issued a challenge of position. If she died, it would be honorably. If she did well enough, Trirayi's debts would be forgiven. The responsibility weighed heavy on her shoulders, but she bore the burden of it far better than she would the shame of his crimes.

        When he charged, she remembers thinking, it was slow. So slow she could hear the groaning of the earth beneath his feet, and she ducked beneath his wide flailing arm with ease. She learned then that power was more than strength. She thought of the snapping, precise movements of the vipers, the blurred swooping of the eagle, and realized the bull, for all its force and might of its horns, was still relegated to eating the grass. The fight ended quickly.

        But there were always more battles to be won. She hadn't known before but as a chieftain, to be forced to bow her head to the higher rulers felt like swallowing poison. Cooperation was one thing; subjugation another. So she trained, forged her body into a weapon, and continued to forcefully strip the blundering men of their positions. To claim her current position was the hardest challenge of all, an attempted feat she was half convinced would rob her of her life. But she'd set her sights on it the moment she'd tasted power, the accompanying autonomy, and she didn't know how to stop without reaching her goals.

        It's been a small number of years, and while Ankh does not regret her decision, she cannot say she doesn't long for the days when her mother would run her hands through Ankh's hair and hum softly. She misses the gentle caress of her hand against her back, misses the bone crushing embrace of her brother, and the firm weight of her father's hand upon her head. She makes do with the rhapsody of festivals, the flurry of social activity, the radiating warmth of the people dancing around her. But it's a poor substitute for comfort when she cannot escape the cold eyes that watch, waiting for her to bare her soft belly to room, waiting to sink their claws into the all the softest parts of her.




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      S T R E N G T H S
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      reliability / just as one has faith in the bulls that draw the carts, so too can Ankh be trusted. it is the reliability of the beasts of burden; place the trouble upon her shoulders, Ankh will continue marching xxpatience / she is willing to wait. she is willing to wait for years or hours or any number of pains, so long as she knows what she is waiting forxx devotion / to a person or a goal or a place, once she has committed herself to something, it is hers, and she will not let go of it.



      W E A K N E S S E S
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      expression / she is not inexpressive, but she has difficulty putting the ineffable into words. what she feels, she cannot speak. xxstubborn / she has difficulty knowing when to cede if her has set her sights on a goal, will forge ahead despite any complications that arise xxthe self / ultimately, ankh has learned that she does not want to place her burden onto the shoulders of others. or perhaps she doesn't trust them to treat it with the same gentility she would. either way, she only relies on herself to handle problems



      Q U I R K S & H A B I T S
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      enjoys trying to mimic the sounds and calls of various animals | when she is trying to resolve a problem, she either goes for a round of shooting practice or hunts | likes to meditate by lying down on the bare earth | the dancing is her favorite part of the festivals



      FILLERTEXTFIL

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      it was only a snake after all

So begins...

Ankhaya Tsulaarai's Story