This account does not do Fandom RP's.
The Making of Freedom:
Daeris's life started out normal. She was a young child, playing with her friends in the neighborhood where her elven family lived. They were nobles, so she had the best of everything growing up. Her parents doted on her and made her feel loved. There was only one dark spot on her toddler years and that was her brother. He hated for some unknown reason.
| Since she was old enough to comprehend language, Isthan had been cruel with is words. Her parents protected her from him, often demanding apologies on her behalf as he called her a foundling or a demon. She didn't look like them. All three of her family members had blonde hair and light blue or grey eyes. Daeris's hair hung in deep black locks and her eyes were chrome diopside green with an almost indetectable glow to them in the daylight. As she grew she began to ask why she looked different, but her mother assured her that she looked very much like her father's grandmother. On occasion the story changed to an aunt, but her parents knew for a fact she looked like a relative of theirs. They assured her Isthan was wrong. And she believed them. What else would a five year old do? |  |
 |
When Daeris turned six, her shadow magic began to manifest. It was early, but it was sporadic and uncontrolled. Hints of what could be as she got older and formally trained. It was enough to turn her world on its head though. She was forbidden from public school, play areas, anything outside the house without a full family escort. The furthest she was allowed to go with a single escort was across the street to the temple where her brother carried out duties as a priest. Her world reduced to her home, her parents, and brother. Isthan became her teacher for everything except weapons and magic. Her parents had a teacher come from a local magic school to train her, but he didn't have the same kind of magic as she, so all he could teacher was control. Her father took on her weapon's training. Even going so far as to have special weapons made for her tiny hands to train with. |
No one explained why she'd become a prisoner in her own home. Not that she'd understand at the ripe old age of six, but her life had taken a drastic turn and even she understood that much.
|
Life grew worse with each passing year. The smacks she received when she got an answer wrong during her schooling were quick to start. Math problem incorrect, Isthan knocked her out of her chair. He was two hundred years older than her, there was no fighting back. It grew worse as the years passed, cumulating in a whipping at the age of nine that almost killed her. Isthan's fiance, Faelwen had been on hand to watch, encouraging him to be more cruel and stern with her. It wasn't the last, but her parents did intercede enough to ensure none of her punishments would be that severe again. Her mother had claimed she was too valuable to kill when she thought Daeris couldn't hear her. She never learned why she was valuable though. |
 |
By the time she'd healed and was nearing the age of ten, she'd found ways to work the system in her hometown. On a trip to the temple, not long after that first whipping, she saw a child be caught for stealing. When she asked Isthan what happened to children who stole, he informed her they were taken from their families and punished by being put on a community service detail for hours up to days depending on the crime.
 |
It didn't take long for her to start stealing things from the temple when they went. Another priest caught her one day and despite Isthan and her parents trying to insist that she couldn't be punished the same way as the other children, she was sent off with the detail for a half a day. It was the best day she'd had in years. She met other people her age. She got to talk to the guards. She learned about the world outside her home. Daeris didn't care that they thought she was weird, she'd found a way to make human connection and she clung to it. Stealing and making sure to be caught every chance she got. |
One fateful night, not long after her sixteenth birthday, she had snuck out of the house and across the street, looking for something important to take. Something that would get her more days on the detail. She had finally convinced herself to tell the guard who always watched over them what was happening to her at home and needed time to explain.
As she took several items from the temple, her brother stumbled out of the back, half asleep, robe half pulled on. Daeris was old enough now to easily piece together Faelwen and he had come to the temple to spend some private time together. That was bad news for her.
| Isthan swore he'd have her hand cut off. He was tired of her acting out and her parents kept letting her get away with it. He grabbed her wrist, beginning to drag her towards the altar, determined to do it himself as her parents would get her out of her punishment. Daeris pulled free of him and put the training her father drilled into her for hours a day for the last ten years to use. Isthan was no fighter. Simply a priest and a poor one at that. He attacked, drawing a ceremonial dagger all the priests carried. She drew her own, only planning to defend herself, not attack him. Isthan was clumsy, wearing heavy red priest robes as he tried to strike out at her. He fell, tripping over those robes that dragged around his feet. He hit his head on the altar and then landed in the floor of the temple. |  |
He went still and she called his name, but he didn't move or answer. After a moment, she approached, turning him over. The ceremonial dagger he'd drawn buried in his heart. Whether that or the blow to the head killed him, she didn't know. She didn't care. She had a chance to get out and she was taking it. There was no hesitation as she ran from the temple. Faelwen would find him soon and blame her if she knew she was in the temple.
 |
Stealing what she thought she might need from some market stands she found on the way towards the edge of the city, she left the only place she'd ever known. While she didn't have much experience with people, she knew that people would ask her name. There was nothing she wanted to tie herself back to her family. Not because of what had happened in the temple, but because she despised them. Daeris wanted to cut all ties to them. She was free and no one would ever take that from her again. That night, Freedom was born, and Daeris buried. With luck, never to be seen again if she had her way. |
Details
Birth Name: Daeris Aladaria
Age: (Can vary per RP) 119
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pansexual
Relationship Status: Single
Species: Elf
Abilities/Strengths:
Shadow Magic
Skilled with weapons and combat
Thief
Heightened senses - above average night vision due to her magic
Weaknesses:
Allergic to iron due to mineral deficency
Sun sensitive - can be severe
Lack of training in Shadow Magic - mostly self taught
Appearance:
(Fantasy Settings)
Freedom stands six foot tall with long black hair. The length of it varies and as much as possible, she keeps it braided and hidden under the hood of her jacket. She is a little stereotypical dressing in all black, but she has multiple reasons for it. Her clothing material of choice is leather as it's more durable with the type of work she does. And blood wipes off easier sometimes.
One of her most noticeable attributes, especially at night, are her eyes. They're the color of a chrome diopside stone and glow very faintly. 
Their appearance is directly tied to her magica ability. Her skin is almost abnormally pale due to an inability to tolerate direct sunlight for extended periods of time without some kind of covering or protection.
Her pointed ears are pierced on the lobe and as well as several places along the pointed tip. She has a tattoo of a leafless oak with an owl sitting in the branches on the back of her neck. It's a left over symbol of her family, which she'd love to get removed, but has never gotten around to doing.
(Modern/Real World Setting)
As times have moved forward, Freedom has embraced a lot of change in the modern world. She's gained a few new tattoos over the years and a few new piercings. She still dresses in all black, but she can go out in the sun a little more with the invention of sunscreen though she's still just as pale. Her skin doesn't burn the moment she steps out the door at least. Leather is still her preferred material for pants and jackets, but her shirts vary depending on if it's work, casual, or going out for a drink. She enjoys boots with a small heel on them, knee length usually, though she has some variety in her wardrobe for shoes. Her fingerless gloves are a staple to her everyday wardrobe. When she's working it depends on the setting she's in on if she wares them or not.
When she needs to blend in with a crowd, she has taken to wearing contacts to help mute the glow of her eyes, but she finds them uncomfortable and will only do it for a job.
Personality:
Freedom is a haunted soul. Her past and the path she's taken since leaving home has left it's mark on her. To cope, she relies on alcohol (preferably whiskey), snark, and crude humor. She's a very private person when you first meet her, but if you can get past her 'we can never be friends' bullshit, she'll start to open up. If you do manage to become someone that she gives more than a passing interest about, she'll be there to fight at your side, avenge you, break you out of jail, or get in some other trouble with you.
Loyalty is very important to her. The few people who have gotten her to stop saying they're not friends, when everyone very much knows they are, are like family to her. Better family than she had growing up. She'll be loyal up until it kills her. The only exception is if being disloyal will save your life, then she'll make that sacrifice if needed. Freedom would rather have you upset with her than dead. Upset, angry, or anything else meant that you were alive to feel them and she could try to fix it or explain later.
She's proud of her skills as a thief and occasional assassin. Even if you're not close, she's a very good partner to have on jobs. She can get obsessed when she has a goal or a timeline to work towards. It's not uncommon for her to overdo it and end up worn to the bone. Freedom believes in being paid what she's worth and her shadow magic makes her more valuable than most. Or at least the people hiring her should think so. They don't need to know she's not fully trained and she doesn't volunteer the information to anyone except those who are close enough to know the real her.
If Freedom see's someone being abused in some fashion, she will often step in to help. Even if it means killing someone, she'll do whatever is in her power to put an end to it. She has a few places where she helps those in these situations go to get back on their feet, but it's a secret she keeps from everyone except those she takes their in order to protect them.
The Best Friend 
Midnight is a mystery. An enigma wrapped in a horse. He clomped into Freedom's camp one night a few years after she left home. He followed her the next morning and after asking consent to ride him into town, they were inseparable.
The stallion has a unique intelligence for a horse. In general, horses are very intelligent animals, but when people meet Midnight it's common for them to say they expect him to speak to them. He has a very clear understanding of humanoid languages and reacts accordingly. He follows order exactly (when he's in the mood), nods in response to questions, gives hugs, and laughs.
Freedom's upbringing and her experience with magic tells her that something is different about her horse. He doesn't seem to age like other horses either. For which she's grateful because if she ever lost the only being on the planet that she trusts and loves, she would lose her mind.
She's content for him to remain a mystery as long as he's happy and healthy. She'll only try to solve it if its to save his life or she has no other choice.
Note: Midnight is mostly played in fantasy/medieval settings, but can be played in modern ones.
