Name: Bule Eno (Blue One)
Race: Akvatari
Age: 14
Talent: Gift of Words
Likes: Literature, Poetry, Violin, Solitude.
Dislikes: Crowds, Authority, Humans.
Physical Description-
Bule has wise, brown colored almond shaped eyes, draped by her shoulder length black hair, with fair skin that glows under her charcoal features. She has gray, unusually large wings that are as quiet and graceful as that of an owl. Her tail is that of a fur seal, though the somewhat bristly but pleasant to the touch exterior is somewhat darker than most of her race.
Character Concept-
Bule`s name means " Blue One." Given by her Mother due to her solemn, pensive nature and her blue glow when asleep..
She may be silent in most situations, but that does not mean in the least that she is mild. Under her more petite, delicate outlook, she has a fiery passion that can only be matched by the ocean storm. She has a soft spoken voice,
but one that is easily taken over when riveted by strong emotions, reaching such a volume and such a force that it barely seems to be erupting out of her trembling body.
She is constantly secluding herself in her books, she can recite almost every poem in all of Mizahar, and is well known in her community as " The Master of the Tongue" or " The One with the Weapon of Words." She plays the violin well, but compared to the genius of those born with music as their main talent, she cannot hope to compare. She thoroughly enjoys the sweet nectar of fruit, but is disgusted by the syrupy sweets presented to her. More like a drifting breeze, she bears nothing set in stone, no rigid morals, and not much tradition either. Which is, or can be, looked down upon by many.
Due to childhood trauma in which she can scarcely remember, she has a keen hatred for authority, and an unsettling contempt for humans. Usually avoiding highly populated areas and crowds, she seeks company only in herself, though she is good friends with many animals.
History-
She was born surrounded by loving murmurs and cold lipped kisses, blessed with the salt of the sea, and then bathed in sweet water. Her Mother had caressed her cheek with adoration, closed her eyes, and sang with such smitten blindness and beauty everyone simply had to sigh in misty eyed awe. Both mother and child glowed a soft blue, the delicate notes dancing in the air.
" Ach miláčku, sladká modrý.
Kdo budete mít?
Požehnaný děti, požehnal dítě."
Almost every Akvatari in the area would remember this day for quite a while, as they would on this child`s birthday four years later. Most would not even live to tell the tale.
They all gathered where the water grew shallow, some flew in the air, gathering coconuts and tropical flowers, while some waded in the water. They all wanted to see how that odd and adorable child had turned out. It was not custom for the celebration of one common girl`s birth, but curiosity took a hold and several people prepared for her arrival. What was her talent? What does she look like? They had all thought. For ever since the day of her birth, her mother had taken her two daughters to live in solitude with only them, as was custom. Ah, here they come!
Rising some fifty yards ahead, draped in a curtain of water, her mother appeared. Brilliant with her long brown hair sprawled across her skin like tentacles, sun kissed skin contrasting with her light green eyes. Her breasts were bare, and her the fur on her tale shined as if it were draped in dark pearls. Gray wings tucked behind her, she appeared humble yet proud, the spit image of a proper Akvatari. Following her was her eldest, Laya, a muscular young woman with the gift of sculpting. She was equally extravagant, with dark, doughy eyes but with a exotic, voluptuous build. Then came tiny Bule Eno, with tiny wings still not fit for flight, and a pathetic, minuscule sea lion tale painted a deep jet black. She had short brown hair in a tangled array of curls, and a grayish, pallid complexion. Everyone gasped at this, for she looked quite ill. With eyes like black pools, she observed the appalled faces staring back at her. She could a little light, maybe excitement, dimming in each of their stomachs. Pouting a bit, she attempted to stretch out her wings, so they could see how pretty she actually was, but within a few seconds, she was hit in the back of the head, and soon floated unconscious in the water.
When she awoke, the world was silent. Splashing about in distress, she swims back to were the festival was. How could she have fell asleep? But as she had neared her destination, the water became a sickly blue violet, warm though the sun hid behind the clouds. "Mother? Laya?" She whimpered, tugging at a few strands of her hair. Far ahead, she could see a few dark lumps being tossed by the waves. Knowing without actually knowing, she refused to go near, and swam as fast as she could to the shore. As she arrived though, she soon lost herself once more, and hadn`t woken for another ten days.
Opening her eyes, she smiled, nearly calling out her mother`s name, but then processed, as best a toddler could, that her dear Mother was gone. Sluggishly, she dragged herself near the water, wetting herself with cupfuls of the salty substance. Then she saw it, one single coconut calmly adrift just a few yards away. In a minute she was there, grabbing it greedily and cracking it on coral. At four, she had made her first move for survival, and also, set in the motions in order to find herself. And what happened to her family, more than anything, she had to know. Yet for a decade she just sat on the shore, eating berries and sleeping restlessly on wintry nights. Until, one day, one tiny decision changed her life forever...
