" may the flowers remind us why the rain is necessary "

Once upon a time she was a graceful, lithe, palomino mare with curves and shine in all the right places. Friends, family, and strangers commented on her beauty with comparisons such as "angelic". Her mane was silken and smooth with rarely a thread out of place and she took care to make sure that despite her low standing she was comely. Unremarkable in other aspects, it was her beauty that she doted upon as her only blessing.

Unfortunately that beauty has faded. Where supple curves and glistening pelt used to live now gaunt angles and dull hides remain. The once golden hue of her coat has tarnished, as if a fool's gold, and is tawny at best. The depth of darkness around her eyes and muzzle has deepened, providing an eternally melancholy and fatigued appearance. Even the once cream of her mane is stained, just a shade or two lighter of beige than her body. Unlike much of her former self, they retained their former length despite their lackluster appearance. Darker shades stretch and fade along her legs in mock dunalino markings, but otherwise, she remains a blank slate of wheat.

Additionally, two horns stretch from her forehead in a visual reminder of the deal she made with daemons. Their bases are smooth, the color of ossein, but quickly they become ridged and umber. Most striking a change of all is the open rib cage in her abdomen. Her very bones gawk through an oval opening. Typically, Evette will cover her rotten innards with flowers in an attempt to shield others away from the horror and cover the stench, but it is not always successful.

" darling, dearest, dead. "

(Evette is subject to development via in-character interactions, this is simply a bare-bones personality.)

Much of the former Evette remains in this new, undead version of her. At her core, she is an empathetic and caring individual who was more likely to give you the clothes off her own back than watch another suffer. While these qualities remain in her, and some instances just as strong, she isn’t as inclined to practice them. There is a new bite to the woman – not in the spitfire sort that lashes out unprovoked, but like a bite of too dark of chocolate, a bad taste lingers on her tongue. The sour and distaste for her former life bleeds through the once innocent woman.

She holds a distrust in all, but mostly men. After Dillion’s betrayal and manipulation, Evette is under the impression very few speak the truth and there are always ulterior motives. Her former self battles with this darkness, and will for the rest of her days, as she misses a carefree life where everything once seemed so bright.

" let him go, he threw you away " before.

Be advised: Emotional manipulation and trauma are prevalent in Evette's history.

What is there to say about Evette? This unremarkable girl came from no land’s of legendary tales nor did she belong to a family of privilege. The day-to-day was monotonous and dull. Sights seen so common nowadays with fantastical equine and magical prowess seemed nearly vacant from her homeland. Well, save for her own inclinations. But as she grew among the common folk she kept her bloom secret for it wasn’t revered as a blessing but the work of demons and devils. But with arcanum so powerless and so peaceful, how could it ever be considered malevolent and bewitching?

Regardless of being somewhat different than her kin, Evette kept her secret close to her heart and had an average childhood and adolescence. Her story didn’t go awry until her early adulthood when she caught the eye of a young lord, Dillion. While Evette may have been of little standing and claim she had remarkable beauty that seemed to outweigh the other unremarkable qualities of her life. Dillion was a handsome stallion with a finely chiseled jaw and expressive eyes and had caught many an eye himself, although he’d never taken the time to pursue anyone until he witnessed our palomino beauty.

Their courtship was fleeting. Dillion was charismatic and suave and our innocent Evette was quickly swept from her hooves. She had started to dream of life above that which she lived, where she ascended to the alpha role besides her beloved. But fickle is one’s judgment when they wear the rose-colored glasses of love. Their relationship was kept as secret as to her magic. Under lock and key, they visited and for some time Evette remained hard to get. Dillion was persistent with his desires – what some would call the “only desire of men”, and eventually Evette relented to his soft whisperings and false promises.

If others knew, she would be labeled a ruined mare. To give one's self prior to union? Blasphemy! But Evette whole-heartedly believed all of the golden lies Dillion promised her and more and more frequently found herself entangled with him.

Their relationship lasted a long time with little to show for it. With each month that stretched Dillion grew more and more stern that their time spent in Evette’s lovely floral hovels were to be kept a private matter, that was, until he could convince his parents of his affections. Blindly, Evette listened until Dillion’s eyes were eventually snatched by another. A neighboring herd’s leadership visited, bringing with them an equally beautiful daughter. The chemistry between Dillion and her was instantaneous and public. Evette’s disapproval and heartbreak were immediate, until in the night Dillion returned to her for physical pleasure, still weaving sweet nothings into her ears that she was the one for him and all else was simply a public display. Foolishly, she continued to believe him.

While publicly Dillion courted and wooed this new mare he continued to visit (see use and abuse) Evette in the night. Eventually, the palomino woman became desperate. She pleaded to Dillion to call of his new engagement to the lord’s daughter. “If I could, I would, Evette. You know I love you, but my status demands things of me I cannot refuse… you’ll always be here for me, won’t you?” She remembers the words as clear as sterling bells, to this day, but where they had wrapped her in resolution then they offer only bitter, false sentiments now.

Despite the views of their herds Evette sought out the only one person who could help her: a witch. She was rumored to stalk the woods around their homelands living a solitary life of occult magic. Time and time again there were stories of desperate individuals seeking her out for help in a problem; whether it be poverty, starvation, or lack of recognition.

Love seemed trivial in comparison and easy bargain. So, Evette searched until she found the croon.

For some time the witch refused. She didn’t think Evette had entirely considered the life she desired or understood the one she claimed to be the love of her life. Enraged by the rejection, Evette told the witch that she demanded a spell to make Dillion love her “at any cost” because in her heart she knew their love to be true. With a sad shake of her head, the witch obliged.

Evette does not recall the ceremony. Only that she was instructed to drink an odious and pungent brew that slowly blackened out the world. She awoke dirt-covered and scared, clawing through the shallow grave to a moonlit night. She could still smell the putrid mix on her breath, as if her very pores leaked its odor, but was too excited to consider what cost (besides memory loss) she’d paid for her love. Returning to the herd, everyone was in a bustle. She could hear Dillion yelling her name with ardor. The gathered crowd parted for her as if from a fairytale as she ran to him. But she was not met with undying devotion but immediate revulsion. Confused, Dillion (and others she’d realize upon later reflection) ran from her. It wasn’t until she wandered to some water and spied her reflection that she understood and let out a bone-chilling scream.

Both unofficially exiled and self-castaway, Evette left her homelands with a sick in her stomach that spelled embarrassment, rage, and sorrow.

fimbulvetr/fymm.

Wandering brought Evette to the uncharted continent of Fimbulvetr. This remote, mountainous world entrapped her as it did all others - through a massive tree, the Bifrost. Yet this sentient, omnipresent timber was the least of her concerns. Dangers faced the natives, and those roped into the Slidr River Valley's coils were no exception. Evette kept to the Red Wood's Last Stand, a mighty forest of the large redwood tree's where supposedly their patron deity, the Bloodless, roamed. In the shadows, she found some content solitude. Yet, this bliss was quickly torn asunder when the very continent fractured beneath the weight of another awoken god, fearless and without equal; Jörmungandr.

With powers unknown, the Bifrost called to the denizens of the valley to it. Where the caves and tunnels beneath its roots were once cast in shadow, a blinding light emanated. Evette, unaffiliated to any king or friend, barely managed to throw herself through the portal before the Bifrost, and the world around it, splintered with the clarion roars of a mighty serpent.

What met the survivors was structure, beautiful and old, and astounded researchers. There was no telling if the magic transported them across the world, or to another universe, but what home they had known disappeared with the flash of white that spat them on the marble floors of the Acropolis.

It came to their attention that they had been transported to a place known locally as Fymm, a newly discovered continent that this Commission was actively working to explore, cartograph, and research. Despite the unceremonious entrance, they were met with warmth and welcome. But this place, this Bastion, was a steadily growing city and too busy for Evette to handle, even in the shadows of the ruins yet to be preserved and reconstructed.

The congestion pushed her to the mysterious outlying territories. Here, she faced near-certain death in a graveyard of monstrous beasts and bones, saved only by her unconscious self-preservation instincts. It felt eerily as if the land called her, so despite nearly falling from the sheer bluffs she felt compelled to explore it further. Here, she met Riodh. It was the first equine she'd managed to carry a conversation with, about a shared, passionate topic.

undying

In trade for Dillion's love, a witch performed a ritual that inevitably drew on, and was powered by, Evette's life force. It invariably killed Evette but reanimated her after the magic had time to unfold and set its roots. Now, she is suspended in a strange, abnormal level of decomposition. She feels no need to drink, sleep, or eat, and her ability to feel physically has been numbed, if not entirely disappeared. When injured, she feels no physical pain, yet in this same vein, her body cannot repair itself. If she found herself with some sort of injury, no matter how minor, she'd be forced to "live" the remainder of her eternal life with it. Additionally, Evette runs noticeably cold to the touch when she allows others to touch her.

Vulnerabilities:

Immortal does not mean invulnerable. She cannot heal wounds that are inflicted upon her, no matter how minor. They could only be remedied by a _necromancer_. However, her "reborn" undead state is as "healed" as necromantic magic can help her. She can be killed. Like most traditional, modern zombie flicks, one good blow to the head/brain would inevitably send our undead gardener into a permanent grave.

Just because she cannot feel exhaustion as we do, that does not mean her body will eventually tired and require rest. Her knees will shake, her weight will feel heavy, and she'll be forced to recuperate lest she damages herself.

Evette always smells of rot and decay. She can only mask it so much with her rib cage's floral arrangements, but it always lingers, pungent and nostril-burning.

She cannot physically bear children.

growth - unlocked at 25 posts

Evette has the unnatural ability to support the growth of foliage – primarily flowers but not limited to – in the most extreme of locations. What she can grow relates to the environment (she cannot grow succulents or cacti in arctic regions, for example), and can create wondrous gardens. Depending on what it is that she intends to manifest, Evette can promote growth verbally, through gestures, or with her consciousness and no outward display of conjuring. Typically the larger the foliage, the more verbal/physical commands are required. Trees, for example, would require at the very minimum physical gestures to spawn, and verbal support.

Vulnerabilities:

Growth limited to biome that she finds herself in, can only create and stimulate growth of flora that are native to an environment

Evette cannot help, create, or grow any plants she is unfamiliar with. Additionally, she must also familiarize herself to environments/biomes she enters for the first time.

Can physically tire herself if she's expelled too much energy (creating a garden from scratch, growing a full redwood tree)

credits.

avatar art by pacificdash

profile background by amlanjyoti lahkar

design by Vethsynia

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