Silva [WIP]

[[cass]]

Full Name: Silva

Other name: Black One, Shadeslayer, Her with a capital H, The She.

Race: Part Grey Folk and Elf.

Side: Assassin - neutral

Birthplace: Unknown

Age: 300+

Gender: Female

Birthday: unknown

Eyes: Ice Blue

Hair: Red.

Weight: 45 kg

Height: 1 m and 53 cm

Magic User: Yes, she is a magic user, she is not a rider, but she has taken control of an Eldurani, it gives her a greater strength and ability to use magic, she is as equally strong at magic as any rider, even without the Eldurani she is very competent with magic, she has been usingit all her life and has even begun to delve into dark magic. Being part elf also helps her to be strong with magic.

Preferred Weapon(s): All assortments, she uses any kind to do any task, but her favourite would be the sword.

Appearance:

Once upon a time, when I believed in fairy tales and happy endings my blue eyes would sparkle mischievously as I dragged a wooden chair through the house. My mother would often bend down and tell me that they look liked the ocean, I would contradict her and tell her that the ocean was made of the bluest of the blues, shiny and perfect; I was neither of them. She would smile, her face lined with wrinkles that showed only just how saw and tired she was. She would pull me up in a tight embrace, calling for my father to come and help her. There they would begin a story that I have heard so many times, that when my nightmares strike me it is always there. It is always there to remind me that they are dead. The words echo in my mind, no longer part of a story that once made me sleep, that once made me feel as though I was the most precious thing in the world. They now carry so much dread, pain and sorry that I can do nothing, but curl into a little ball, as they strike at me. Like a sword each word hits me and it haunts me, like an chant, over and over again until I bleed, until I have nothing left to bled. At that moment I know that the song will end and from there the other nightmares strike and I see their bleeding bodies, I see everything that I lost that night. And I am so drained of blood and life that I cannot protect myself from the agonizing misery so I let it swallow me, until I can't breathe and I die, I die until the next morning where I must get up and keep going.

Now there is never even that glimmer of happiness within the confines of my eyes. They are cold, hard and cruel, unforgiving and they lacked everything. They weren't real, they were lifeless, cold dead things. They were like ice, they flickered with the light, they dances and sparkled like hard, cold, cruel diamond. They were not kind eyes. Only rarely did any emotion flicker into their dark depths. And then it was only ever a sweet sickly joy, the joy that came with spilling others blood and the ecstasy that makes your blood race as you steal another persons life. There always seems to be a silence that follows everywhere I go. There is never a warm chatter, friendly welcome or gentle nod, there is, but only silence. It seems to be the way I go one step forward to steps back. I'm moving further away from everything, I'm never getting any closer to freedom. I'm always being dragged backwards. There is pain with every silent step I take, in fact, my feet seem to be the only sound that I hear. I no longer hear the whispering of voices, the gentle hum of the insects and plants. The only sound I receive is the cold, sorrow of the ghosts chant that terrorises me. Stories no loner have the forsaken words of a happy ending, although I'm still destined to hear the words they are cold and are only filled with dread, the evil cackle of a watch as she sends a family to their death. And I dream that one day I will have my happily ever after, and it won't be the death of me. Something must turn out good, for there has been too much bad.

My past torments me, just as much as reality. There is little to this world that can and will ever draw a smile from my lips. I'm not much. Long fiery red hair spills out across my face, momentarily revealing brown eyes that were hard with only a slight spark of warmth. My hair was long and fell in a tangled mass in messy clumps; it was curly and looked rather knotted and uncared for. My lips were dry and cracked, unsmiling and not very friendly and although the. My facial expressions often confused others leading them to just ignore me or give me foul looks. I did not resent them nor hate them; I had become really quite use to them. I had suffered years of bullying and abuse, so small looks no longer lingered on my already stained soul.

I'm strong, I work out daily, I've had to, to survive. If you don't then you aren't worthy of being an assassin. The training was viscous. Sometimes, every now and then we were thrown against each other. It was kill or be killed, only the best ended up at the end. The rest were dead. I've trained everyday of my life and for that reason there is no fat on my limbs, an iron hard muscle covers my arms, legs and torso. I'm strong. And every capable. I know how to fight with weapons as well as my mind. Magic is an easy gift, I have developed it for so many years. Being part elf gave me that advantage and being part grey folk means I have no qualms with delving into dark magic and I have. I have picked at it more then I have ordinary magic. It is amazing. It helps that I have my Eldurani, Sutana, with me. She gives me strength and power that I knew I would not have I didn't have her. She isn't a nice dragon, nor is she cruel. She is simply who she is and for that I am grateful and in the three hundred years we have been together we have come to feel something close to affection for each other.

Tattoos cover my skin. The best one is a dragon that curves itself around my wrist and travels all the way up my shoulder. It is of a black female dragon, Sutana. She showed me an image of what she looked like and by using dark magic I imprinted that onto my arm. Oh the tattoos just cover my skin. Each one holds a different story within their confines. They mean something important to me. 300 years of history written on my skin. Three hundred years and I have no aged a day since I was twenty. I'm as young as I was then. Many people that I have talked to, the few that have lived, have have told me that I have been kissed by fire. Fire is a deadly and thing and just like that I am deadly. Fiery read hair spills across my back and runs all the way down to my waist. I don't cut it unless I lose a fight, unless one of my intended victims gets away. I have never had to cut it before. I hope I never will.

Personality:

I'm shallow, but unlike the swimming waters of a lake you can not see into the dark depths of my shallow pond, I am a closed books, who is bound by ancient spells. I will not open. No amount of forcing me shall ever make me reveal the secrets that hide beneath my skin. No boat may sail over my waters for fear of becoming beached and then and only than will I strike, sword in hand, armor glittering and shining like the early morning light of a new day and I will hit, swing, stab and jab until they are no more. My courage and pride will never be hindered by worry or regret, not guilt will ever weave itself into my sullen mind. I'm unbreakable, indestructible (The hero a top a hill, with no one, but myself in my crazed world - as my mother use to say). The shallow waters were most do not fear are a death trap, and in my home swimming in the deep is just as deadly as the shallows.

The time in which the water recedes, stifling itself until it wavers on a few hard strikes into the beach sand where it drags unwilling prey into its depths is when I am there. It is when my mind takes control and the girl with the sword comes out to fight every danger. Every beast falls beneath me in my onslaught none can withstand my power. -- And than the story seems to falter when I am faced with a situation that I cannot control. Who I am comes from my mind, stories of heroism, strength, courage and power fight their way through the darkness that shrouds my lost soul. They storm my castle walls and take control of me, they make me me. I have become my own knight in shining armor, taking on a world I try to shy away from. No world is better than my own, but no one can see that. I layer myself with dreams and false hopes, stories (Mother called them fairy-tales) that my parents once whispered to me as I slept, and day dreams and fantasies that I carried with me everyday. The songs of a world where I was the queen, where I did not struggle to work at a mathematics problem, a place where words did not scramble themselves into piles that I could not fathom.

- Devil-may-care attitude -- goes with the hair
- Strong
- Fiery attitude -- do not get in the way of this fire, you'll get burned ;)
- Cold -- she is a mixture of fire and ice, can be as cold as a stone, no feelings what so ever.
- Jumpy -- Her emotions flip around like a mad horse, no way to control this beast!
- Fair -- She will not hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it.
- She is a pregnant dog. No way around it.
- The silent type -- never speaks unless she is threatening you, or needs information.
- Dyslexic -- Yep, you saw that right.
- Cunning, sly, smart -- no way you can beat her.
- Confident -- Y'know in the: "I'm better than you," kinda way.


Likes: Fire and Ice -- that's about it.

Dislikes: Everything. Mostly people.

Strengths: Fighting, hiding, running anything to do with having things her way.

Weakness: Telling the truth, being honest, loyalty, trust, talking, speaking, writing, people.

Family: I dunno, don't ask her, she'll stab you.


History:

- Been around since before the riders fall.
- Did nothing about it, too lazy to do a thing.
- Just hid.
- Has had her Eldurani since she was five.
- Been together for a long time.
- Got into the assassin business, doesn't like it much.
- Does it for the money.
- Kinda does it when she wants to and not before or after, only when she wants to.
- When she was young... I don't know, she can't really remember anything from back than, it was a long time ago you see.
- I'll put more here later.

Anything extra:

Eldunari Bio
Remember, wild dragons will not necessarily aid you even though you may be against Galabtorix. Neutral characters may have a better time of it, as you are not obliged either way. Eldunari, naturally won't be on Galbatorix's side unless their minds are broken, as with Galbatorix's dragon Shruikan.

Name: Sutana

Side: Neutral

Birthplace: Unknown
Age: Unknown
Gender: Female

Eldunari Color: Black
Who is will find/steal this Eldunari?: Silva
Where will the Eldunari be found?: Stolen before the fall of the riders.

Appearance: (What does he/she look like as a dragon? What stands out about him/her? What does he/she look like now as an Eldunari?)

Personality: (Weak willed? Strong hearted? Charismatic? Loner? How does he/she react with others? What is his/her opinion on the Empire/Varden?)

--->Likes:
--->Dislikes:
--->Strengths:
--->Weakness:

History: (a couple of paragraphs minimum. When did the dragon die?)

Password: Witch of Terim