User:Deadlyslashsword/TC2

Lust

 * Name: Vulixion
 * Gender: Female
 * Age: 16 (at the time of her death)
 * Race: Drakenaer
 * Alignment:
 * Height: 5' 1"
 * Hair Color: Gray
 * Eye Color: Red
 * Date of Birth: February 13th
 * Job: Bombshell
 * Weapon: Incendiaries
 * Battle Info: Lust has very little battle knowledge and no training of any kind, so she relies on an easy to use weapon that can finish off most enemies, incendiaries that can be flung variable distances and great speeds using a handheld curved woven basket.
 * Appearance: Lust appears as a well-developed girl, looking much older than she actually is. Her dark gray hair reaches to the middle of her back and is tied into two braids in front. Her attire consists of a loose black halter top and and a ruffly black miniskirt worn over a gold bejeweled bikini. She also wears large circular-rimmed glasses due to poor vision. Her scales and wings are a deep violet color.
 * Personality: Fearful and self-loathing, Vulixion precariously balances a self-preserving need to stay safe out of cowardice with a longing wish to put an end to her suffering. She tends to stay quiet for fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and angering someone; she is most concerned with appeasing those around her and to this end follows orders very well. Despite thinking lowly of herself, it still brings a small smile when someone tells her that she's beautiful.
 * Backstory: Originally the daughter of a single father, who lost their house, farm, and acres of land in the rural plains of Asteria when the economy took a downswing and there was no money to pay the bills. With their livelihoods and only life they've ever known snatched away by the bank, the pair were forced to move to Bastionhyne, a coastal city known for it's booming sea trade, to find greater fortunes.


 * Cramped into a single-occupant apartment on their meager budget, Vulixion's father took a job in the dangerous steel mills, the only place that was hiring. Vulixion herself got a job at a seedy local dive as a waitress, where the clientele were often as rough as the waves that pounded the tall city walls. What neither Vulixion or her father knew at the time of her taking the job was that the dive bar was merely a front for a human trafficking operation, a place where men of high stature and wealth and low morals and dignity came to take their pick of the girls who had either been sold into, stolen for, or entered willingly into the prostitution business. One day, the owner of the establishment approached Vulixion and, knowing her financial situation, made her an offer she couldn't refuse...


 * Whether she took the job willingly or accepted it under threats of violence are unclear. What is known is that for two years Vulixion wandered the streets of Bastionhyne, mainly sticking to the poorer neighborhoods and the ports as a child slave, offering herself to the sick and twisted scum of the earth, under the promise of food, shelter, and most importantly, pay. Ever since that day she had not returned home (not there was a home to return to, her father died in a workplace accident, still scraping for money, and she never found out). Keeping up her appearances was of utmost importance, as she was taught no one wanted to waste their time with a homely girl. Yet she found that her usual clientele, poor men looking for fun and sailors and merchants coming ashore, didn't really care what she looked like. To them, she was merely an object of their desire, and when she thought of it that way, it was a lot easier for her disconnect from her humanity and let it happen. She was only an object to them, not a person with thoughts or feelings or ambitions, so why should she think of herself differently?


 * It all ended as quietly as it began. Vulixion, who had not met her week's quota, was promptly beaten and rented out to a group of rough mercantile sailor shipping cargo; she would be spending a month at sea to make up for her loss in profits. The group used her as a deckhand during the day and to indulge their desires at night, though the sea did not suit her; the constant rocking of the ship made her ill often, and this did not please the sailors, as one cannot indulge themselves on an ill girl. Two weeks into the voyage and after their cargo made it safely to shore, the sailors decided to celebrate, which in this case was getting drunk on cheap rum. They sang shanties and demanded a dance from Vulixion, which slowly devolved into performing more lewd and embarrassing acts, which she was finding more difficult to perform with each compounding request, and eventually she buckled under the pressure to trying to please eighteen musclebound men at once. The group, coming to a drunken agreement of 'what is she good for anyways', promptly tossed her overboard. Vulixion, having grown up on the great plains, did not know how to swim.


 * Her last fleeting thoughts as she slowly sank, breath escaping her, were of greatest regret.