Post by Zyra Maxwell on Dec 31, 2013 21:55:19 GMT -8
Name: Zyra Maxwell
Age: 20
Class: Wolf Taguel [21]
Appearance: She holds herself with a casual confidence that speaks of her certainty in her own abilities. She certainly looks the part - even by the standards of most female Taguel, Zyra looks like a fighter, her rippling musculature clearly evident across a body that has been honed to physical perfection and is only headed upward from there. Her outfit preserves modesty but little else, more a training outfit than anything resembling armor - she relies on her unnatural regeneration and natural resilience over equipment that can rust and break, or worse yet hinder her movements.
The evidence of her true form is easily spotted across her body, from two perky ears to a fluffy blue-and-white tail; even her hair seems more mane than mere hair, all testament to the enormous blue wolf that is her more bestial form. Also easily spotted is the dog collar she wears with pride, convinced that it is a necklace.
In a fight, Zyra moves with a sort of brutal efficiency and unrelenting force that can be intimidating to watch, her normally breezy demeanor completely evaporating into brutal precision in the pursuit of absolute victory - she is a horrifically blood and pragmatic fighter against actual threats, completely unhesitating when ripping apart men and monsters alike. She is by no means intentionally cruel, but she wins. Thoroughly.
Personality: "Rough around the edges" describes Zyra on a number of levels - her coarse language and imprecise diction speak volumes of her education, while those who know her realize that the maturity she was forced to chase from a very young age is riddled with holes, a cracked mask protecting a vulnerable girl tasked with more responsibility than she can handle.
Zyra is friendly and intensely charismatic, easy to get along with and almost relaxing to simply be around. Big-hearted and unconsciously intent on big sistering the bejeebus out of everyone, she exudes an air of responsibility that puts fears at ease, and she is surprisingly patient with others. Not that she is patient in general, by any means; Zyra is usually in motion, training or helping or gesticulating while speaking, and is terrible at doing nothing.
She is also dedicated to her training, which is an exceedingly delicate way of saying that she borders on obsessed at the best of times. Zyra does nothing by halves, taking on every challenge and task with 150% effort, sparing nothing, not even herself, to finish what she starts. It is a tendency both trained and innate; she was a wilful child from birth, but witnessing her parents' sacrifice tempered ordinary orneriness into an unbreakable will as she strives to match the tremendously long shadow they cast on her five-year-old sensibilities.
Zyra grows fond of people quickly, but nothing matches the enduring love she holds for her brother, Zylo. Part big sister and part surrogate mother, she was left responsible for him when he was still a toddler, and has not entirely grown out of that mindset - she still worries overmuch about him, scolding him for overexerting himself while training, all the while blissfully unaware of the hypocrisy of turning around and doing the same herself. While a part of her knows that he isn't a kid anymore, she still sees herself as entirely responsible for his well being. Not that she is blind to his continuing improvement, something which only makes her all the more proud of him, though Zyra is bad enough with displays of genuine affection that she struggles to adequately convey that sentiment to him.
While she is certainly possessed of the nearly racial Taguel drive to protect, Zyra actually holds little interest in fancy concepts like protecting the "world" or "humans," instead turning that nurturing drive towards individuals. While she isn't likely to explain her motives entirely, it is as much a deep-rooted desire to ensure that no one else goes through what she did as any sort of archetypal Taguel urge to protect. Not really the sort to care about the big picture, she just wanders the world, trying to do what little she can to help, without any idea of how to go about changing anything bigger than her.
Backstory: Unlike her brother, Zyra actually knew their parents - and she watched them die in front of her. Not exactly the best fifth birthday she could have asked for, but she learned much that day, of things she had never considered. Of sacrifice, as her invincible father and all-knowing mother died choking on their own blood that she and her baby brother might live. Of loneliness, when she realized that her brother was all she had left in the world.
Of responsibility, as she slowly began to comprehend the magnitude of the sacrifice her parents had made for her sake.
They had given everything for her and her brother, and while the five year old girl could not understand it intellectually, as she stared down at her baby brother, she could comprehend it on a deeper level, one that went beyond reason. They had protected her with everything that they were, body and soul alike; in the same day that she learned what death truly was, she also learned that there were fates worse than death to be found. She dimly understood that they had been much greater people than she had suspected, and realized that she regretted having flaunted their advice. Heady subjects for a five year old, perhaps, but she longer had the leisure to be a child. She had to - survive, though she had no idea how at the time, and she had to get Zylo away from the scene of carnage as well. Zyra carried her brother away from the grisly scene as soon as she realized the coat was clear, skulking through trees in a forest she did not recognize, terrified that they would be found again.
Taguel are nothing if not survivors, though - hardy creatures that thrive in adversity, grow strong through their unending war against a world that seeks to exterminate them, and she had too much to live for to die. Through instinct and blind luck alike, they survived, living as best they could in a world they had been thrust into without warning. Odd jobs, charity, occasionally accompanying other packs of Taguel temporarily, though never truly belonging; throughout it all, Zyra learned time after time that she was never as strong as she needed to be, ever further from being able to protect Zylo as well as she wanted to - but rather than give in to despair, she turned that impotent rage into motivation, turning it inwards as fuel for her own improvement. If she fell, she would get right back up. If she failed, she would try again, and do it right the next time.
She learned that which is difficult for those who have not been faced with their own failure time and time again, to turn a critical eye inwards and recognize her own weakness... and eradicate it. She had to be more than she was, for Zylo's sake as well as to honor the memory of her parents; no matter how long their shadow might be, no matter how weak and helpless she might be compared to them, she could never stand still, never rest on her laurels for even an instant. Willpower and belief mingled with dedication and fear alike, turning drive into obsession as Zyra continued to forge herself through pain. She could be so much more, she knew it, even if that goal seemed to recede ever further into the distance - so she tried harder, running herself to the bone to the point that even her inhuman nature and unnatural regeneration could hardly keep up. She still does, and not even she knows where that path may lead.
But Zyra knows that she must follow it to the end, no matter what may lie at the end. She did not come as far as she has by giving up, and while she recognizes Zylo's rapidly-growing skills, a part of her still fears that they may not be enough. She has to be stronger than him, so that even if he fails, she does not. Competition born of love, not jealousy.
As for her obsession?
Only time will tell.
