Gender: Female
Race: Merfolk
Age: 20
Homelands: Southern Slithern Sea, Mythicalae
Job: Dancer
Other: She's a harsh critic of other people ... but even harsher to herself
Where is she now?: Darkling Dawn, wondering where to go from there.
Brash and impetuous, Velz' is a dancer and darned good at it. Constantly striving for perfection, it's no wonder she's adapted brusque methods of handling any given situation. She's stepped on more than a few toes -- figuratively speaking -- and gotten into trouble with her teachers due to her harsh and bluntly honest remarks.
Her human half is sleek and well tanned, her features reminiscent of earth's pacific islanders. Her black hair is often kept up out of the way with an abalone comb, though strands do tend to escape. Her fishy half, on the other hand, is a more frilly thing, adorned with fins and frills everywhere in a rainbow of opalescent colours. Her tail is long and extraordinarily flexible, enabling her to perform various unusual aquatic feats.
Colour: Green
Gender: Female
Age: Adult
Unit: Unknown
Size: Small
Dam: Green Schutzth
Sire: Brown Septonomonath
Clutch: #7
Origin: Darkling Dawn
Personality: She is as arrogant and harsh as Velz' is ... if not more so. And she's nearly twice as vicious when she watches dancers of all varieties. Though unable to dance, given her form, she enjoys watching dancers ... and just as quickly crushing their confidence with her almost off-hand comments. The only dancer that should be safe is Velz' ... but that's not so. As the saying goes, "familiarity breeds contempt" and it seems it is true; Meereth is particularly harsh when she comments on Velz' -- anything from her recovery to her dancing ability is fair game.
The first one was a drab female, cloaked in opalescent shades of silver; her face had the dull look of one who was truly indifferent and her dance was equally thoughtless. Velz' restrained a smirk, forcing a pleasant, if slightly aloof, smile to her features. After the first, more followed, each in their naturally different colours; the reds were too dull, the blues not bright enough, and the greens ... why they just looked as washed out as the dancers themselves. She would shine where these others have failed.
Her turn came and she, in a whirling of rainbow colour, started out into an acrobatic display, twisting and twirling, twining and spinning in a frenzy of colour and light. Her dance was the finest she'd ever done, stretching her body and mind to the limit as she performed.
And then ...
She awoke on the shore, once bright eyes glazed over with foggy memories of pain. At some point, her fins and tail were displaced, her humanoid legs crumpled unnaturally beneath her. Probably broken, she thought, prodding at the numb extremities with a slight frown. Whatever had happened, she couldn't quite remember. It was a slaughter, that much was for certain; shark-shifters must have found them all ... she dimly remembered fighting with her nails and she examined them indifferently. Blood remained under her fingernails, but nowhere else; the sea had scrubbed her clean. She bore no wounds, save for her shattered legs. No one else rested on the shore; she was the sole survivor.
Unable to walk or even to shift into her swimming form, she crawled onto a rock with her hands and arms, letting her broken legs dangle behind her. Sighing heavily, she rolled onto her back and let her rapidly drying black hair fan outward like black wings behind her. Death would come soon enough for her.
And, it seemed, she guessed correctly. A dark beast, almost black in the deepening twilight, landed a short distance from her and a soft thump indicated the landing of something else. She didn't bother to turn her head as the young man jogged toward her, his blushing face drenched in shadows.
Velz' felt something being thrown over her, but she didn't fight; barely moved, in fact. The man spoke in a language she didn't understand and when he pulled her from the rock into his arms, his terrified gasp barely elicited a sigh from her. He could've done what he wanted ... but he did not, choosing to take her to his beast, who sniffed her and gave some kind of odd rumble. After that, it was all darkness.
Months later, her legs had healed with the help of the locals, people who lived a in home of creatures called "dragons". She was being expected to stand for a dragon, although the concept -- and the words -- utterly escaped her. She murmured the words of acceptance and acknowledgement, but they seemed as baffled about her language as she was with theirs. In time, they understood her name to be Velzleiss, although they invariably pronounced it "Fall's Lace", softening the harsh pronunciation considerably.
It was the fact that she might one day be able to dance again that kept her from slipping fully into depression. And if a "dragon" could help her -- though she couldn't help but think of Leviathan, the old sea beast, when she saw them -- then perhaps that would be the way to go ...