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Lazuri Blackwing was born the unhappy second daughter of Serina and Jericho Blackwing. Originally thought to have been born a boy, she was going to be named 'Lazarus.' This is because she was also thought to be stillborn when she came out. 

It was not until her name was partly written down that she not only was cleaned up enough for it to be clarified that she in fact was a she and not a he, that they changed her name to 'Lazuri.' 

This, being only one of the many things that she has become..and still is..bitter about. 

She didn't always used to be this way. Like everyone who turned or turns bad, she had her reasons. Mostly reasons of hate and anger...though she also has her reasons..of sorrow. 

Each and every one, a grudge which she refuses to let go of. Ever

Lazuri wasn't always green the way she is now. There was once in her long life, that she was able to feign the appearance of being happy. Being happy for her family. Being happy for her sister. Being happy, when her younger sister came along and even further took away from her the attention which she so wanted; in her mind, she had also taken from her the love which she craved. The love that should have been hers - yet instead was showered on her perfect older sister and lavished even more on her younger one. It was a slow process. Lazuri pretended to be happy with her family. She smiled for the pictures, did her best in every recital, and tried her hardest to gain the approval of her parents. Yet.. no matter how hard she tried, it never seemed to be good enough.

. . .

Years of losing things she wanted to her sisters, of being the forgotten middle child, and of resenting the world for her lack of true happiness, led to the slow transition to evilness that had already been brewing in her heart since the very day that she was born. It began with spiteful behavior. With dabbling in voodoo and black magic, and trying to see how much trouble she could cause other people. She started small, of course; her first victim being a teacher whom she didn't like. After seeing the results of her cruelty, Lazuri was sold. Hook, line and sinker. After so long of searching for something that could make her happy, she thought that she'd found it. Causing problems for other people, taking things from them that weren't hers to take. Her happiness came back for only a short time. And.. it also came with a price.

A green price.

For her envious attitude towards those happier than she, for her hatred of her family, for misdeeds conjured up - and pain and suffering caused - via voodoo and black magic; then for the ugliness growing in her own heart, Lazuri's skin began to turn green. An outward sign and reminder of what she had done so far; of what she had allowed herself to become..and of the fact that actions truly do have consequences.. Though, not a sign or warning to her that she heeded well..

. . .

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Character Gender


Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para, Novella

Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Realistic, Anime, Child Friendly, 18+, Comedy, Action

About the Writer (OOC)

I also write for Navaya and Forlorn (As well as the other characters on that account.)

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  • (Now to wonder how to plot and meet. Hah
  • "Thanks,doll.. She is pretty awesome."


  • (OLh, I am sorry. Well, I am sure it'll resolve itself. Things always does. Though it fucks up soon afterwards soooo...*Shrugs* ANYWAY, you are welcome. I assume you wish to RP?)

  • (You should. :p
  • || Nav <3


  • (Sup', friend? Thanks for the invite. xD)

  • (lol you beat me to it)
  • ((Not sure haha. It all depends on time era and such.))
  • ((Yes of course :) ))
  • Katalam - The City Of Sand | 4:07pm 

      She told herself she wouldn't return here.. Yet here she was. How was it that Katalam was so warm? It was a part of Russia was it not? An outskirt slightly north of Siberia. The weather was always dry, desert like here in Katalam, though outside of the city Lush forests bloomed and bordered the dwelling on three of its four borders. The forests ran several square miles before simply dying out and drastically changing back to Russia's typical cold rocky climate. It was an unsolved miracle. Perhaps what was even more mysterious is the fact that everyone, seemed to live in harmony. There were humans, supernaturals and everything in between living in Katalam. Granted, there was still crime.. But it wasn't everyday you saw humans and supernaturals getting along. Oddly Katalam seemed set back. Very few cars plagued the dirt and sand mixed paths. Vendors spread from one side of the dirt roads to the other, goods sprawled out on blankets with every merchant attempting to make a sale. Unless you came through the dense forests, there was only one entrance to and from Katalam; the front gates. They were guarded, though less hostile than one would think. The gate, consisted of only two posts carved into the city's name 'Katalam'. For better words, Katalam was a travelers town. Few lived in it, and housing was mostly hidden furthest from the gates and continued on into the forests. Valkyrie once lived here, the hill in the very front of the city, the gates were visible from her workshop. She was a renowned weaponsmith here. Travelers far and wide, kept her in business. 

    Those days were returning


      She was on vacation now. Sightseeing. Her home since then had been demolished but had recently been rebuilt by our Mistress. She was dead for several years after all. A forgotten Mistress was all she was to Katalam now. Even so, it had served as her home town for so long. She pulled her hood up to cover her hair, Katalam was a dusty city, most reasons why she wore long sleeves while she was out. The sand picked up quite often, though most merchants and frequenters in the city of sand seemed to be used to it. 

      She paused, her gaze scanning over a few of the merchants wares. Valkyrie wasn't as wealthy as she used to be in her past. She was just now returning to her life as a weaponsmith. The move from New York to Katalam had went oddly well. It was nice to be away from Bolt now and then. Even though the two were no longer an 'item'. Valkyrie liked to imagine they were more than friends; in her own twisted mind anyway. Their relationship ended badly, and of course Valkyrie blamed no one else but Bolt himself. A story always had two sides after all.

      Her mind bounced back, as she turned to inspect yet another merchant's goods. Stones of every sort; moon stone, emeralds, sapphires. The Mistress ran her fingers over one before once again turning to continue on her way. 

    Few more steps before BAM. Valkyrie's shoulder collided with someone else's. A brow lowered in agitation; quick to anger as any Berserker would. Whoever it was, was in for it. At least a good yelling at for that matter. 

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