Amaranthine
The Basics
♥ Character Name:
Amaranthine♥ Age:
18 (Biologically. Chronically is… a bit more complicated) ♥ Gender/Pronouns:
Female/She and Her♥ Species:
Hybrid♥ Occupation:
Vigilante ♥ Faceclaim:
N/A♥ Do you play any other characters on this site? If so, who?:
N/A
Appearance
At first glance, Amaranthine appears to be a normal, mundane human. Her glossy, obsidian-colored hair is carefully styled in such a way as to hide her pointed ears. She wears darkened shades to obscure her reflective, eerily silver eyes. Her sharp, curved canines are innocuous enough unless she smiles widely, a rare occurrence even in the presence of those she trusts. Lastly, she wears leather gloves to cover her sharp, deadly claws. So if her hair is a touch too shiny, or her skin a smidgen too light…? Well, humans have never been the most observant of creatures.
Her soul is bright, reflective silver with the upside down heart shape common to monsters– just like the odd coloration of her eyes. Before the experiments and her traveling in the Void, her eyes were the color amaranthine and her soul was white, but after she was enhanced they took on the color of her powerful if somewhat tainted soul.
Strengths/Abilities
Void Magic: The ability to travel and, too a limited extent, control the Void. She can use it to teleport from one place to another, cause it to swallow up enemies, form weapons such as daggers or throwing knives, etc. Prolonged use causes extreme exhaustion, continued use after that causes physical pain, bloody noses, ruptured veins, erratic heartbeat, etc. and eventually death.
Relative Immortality: She does not age or get sick and is unaffected by all poisons. The caveat is that all other things that can kill a living being - drowning, fire, stabbed through the heart, etc. will kill her just as they would someone else.
Eidetic Memory – She literally cannot forget anything – more of a curse than a blessing when it comes to her, as far more of her memories are painful than happy.
Inabilities/Weaknesses
Paranoia – She sees shadows around every corner and is slow to trust.
Prideful – She is confident in her own power and often thinks that she is right more often than not.
Nightmares – She often doesn’t get enough sleep, fearing the terrors that closing her eyes often brings.
Dramatic – While she is certainly not on the same level as Mettaton, it can become annoying to those around her.
PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It affects pretty much every aspect of her life (flashbacks, hyper-vigilance, inability to trust people, etc.), and also makes the paranoia and nightmares far more severe.
Personality
Amaranthine desperately wants to look for the best in people, but a lifetime of cruel realities has conditioned her to have her first reaction to a stranger be suspicion and distrust. Once someone has won her loyalty however, she is a steadfast ally, readily placing herself between those she cares about and danger.
When she has any amount of free time in her tumultuous life, Amaranthine is an avid artist. It is very calming to her, and is the closest thing to therapy that she does. She primarily paints, but is skilled in other mediums as well.
Although she would never admit it, she desperately wants friends and a family again.
Life Story
Amaranthine was born in the Dark Ages, only a decade before the bloody dawn of the Human Monster War. Her parents were a rare intermarriage between the two races – her father was a successful Viking and her mother was a prodigal mage of the Vanir, or Light Elves.
When she was born, her parents named her Amaranthine… both for the color of her eyes and the meaning: unfading or everlasting.
Amaranthine came into her considerable magic at age eight, and was trained by her elated mother.
The young girl spent hours in the woods practicing, and it was there that she met her best friend – a young canine monster named Channe. He was enthralled by her powers, having little magic of his own, and they became close friends.
Only two years later, the escalating tensions between races finally came to a head… and one day, as Amaranthine came home from playing in the woods, she found her village in flames.
Knights from distant lands watched unfeelingly as entire families burned, and to the young girl, their cold faces surrounded by even colder steel brought her far more fear than any monster even had. Watching in terror, she clapped her hands to her mouth to stifle a pained cry as she watched her father and mother try to defend their home and by cut down.
She fled back to trees, sobbing as she searched for Channe.
When she finally found him by the river, she collapsed upon the sandy banks and told him what had happened through her retched gasps. Rightfully worried, he reluctantly took her back to his pack – something he had never done before, as his father Amun was very distrustful of humans and Channe had been uncertain how he would react to a hybrid.
Although his father was not fond of having a halfblood in their midst, he could not ignore the value of the warning that she had brought.
The pack fled from the woods just as it went up in flame around them, and without those extra few hours, they would have burnt with them. To his great displeasure, Amun now owed the traumatized little hybrid a blood debt. But… we’ll get to that later.
Amun’s pack was far from the only monsters to flee from the burning forest, and even more perished in the flames. Some of the winged monsters set ahead to bring word to the king and queen… but the monarchs were already far too well aware.
The strike on Amaranthine’s village and Channe’s forest were but two of hundreds of such assaults, an orchestrated act of war that none of them had seen coming. The avian creatures returned with these grim tidings along with the location of the mountain where all monsters were being instructed to gather in preparation for the coming war.
Some might say that at this point Amaranthine should have realized that she would have to pick a side – but to her, it was never ever a choice. She marched onwards towards the mountain, Channe at her side, as drowning grief slowly changed to burning rage in her heart.
Soon, the War had started in earnest. In the early days, Amaranthine stayed on the sidelines, aiding the wounded and doing any other simple tasks she could. But as the young girl became accustomed to the site of blood and death, she realized that the true power of her magic lay not in the healing arts but in the destructive forces of chaos magic. In light of this realization, she decided to go to Amun, and to tell him that she wanted to fight.
And so she took to the frontlines at Amun and Channe’s side (the former of which was starting to develop a grudging respect for the girl) slowly becoming known as the Tempest – an unstoppable force of nature that brought untold destruction down upon her foes… especially those clad in armor, the metal providing excellent conductivity for her lightning strikes.
Over the next year of war, as her magic was pushed to the limit every day and her mind pushed past it, something miraculous and terrifying happened. Slowly, the storms and fires and cruel shards of ice she summoned took on a strange quality. They were… darker, and sometimes seemed to flicker between this world and another.
She didn’t know what to make of this, nor did the other soldiers, although some more… illusive figures did observe from afar.
Then, on one of the first days of what would prove to be a cruel, cold winter, Amun took a human’s arrow to the heart. Over the past year and a half, the bond between them had grown from mutual distrust to an almost familial bond, and seeing him fall… it snapped something inside of her.
Suddenly, she was everywhere yet nowhere at once on the battlefield, felling man after man. Unfathomable shadows pulsed like a ghastly heartbeat through tears in the fabric of reality, pulling foolish mortals into their endless depths. Shards of the night sky pierced human veins, spilling crimson unto the trampled snow.
On this day… she earned the second half of her name, along with a new title.
Amaranthine also means red and that day, the Shadow Weaver was bathed in it as she discovered the never-ending darkness of the Void.
A few more months passed. The humans had withdrawn from the field, reportedly working on something big. Tensions ran high. Amun just barely pulled through, bringing relief the likes of which Amaranthine had never known coursing through her heart. But no matter what she tried, her magic remained… tainted, and her once white heart was stained silver, a pulsing light with shadows forever twirling within its depths, reminding her of how far she had come.
How far she had fallen. She would never again summon the pure rage of nature; never again feel the power of her mother’s race coursing through her veins. She had become a creature of the darkness, and one cannot return from such a path.
It was a cold winter morning in the end of the year that, in the name of the their cruel God, the human mages invoked the spell that sealed the monster race beneath the earth. Amaranthine awoke sandwiched in-between the warmth of the pack that had adopted her as their own to the sound of the earth rumbling ominously as it closed over their heads.
The monsters quickly gathered in panic. But no spell, no attack, nothing could seem to undo what had been done. Amaranthine tried teleported past the barrier, only to find that even the Void bent to its will.
The war was finally over… but not in the way anyone had expected.
Seven years passed, and the monsters and halfbloods gifted with magic tried again and again to warp the Barrier to no avail. The monsters gifted with strength tried carved new tunnels, but this too did nothing. The King and Queen appointed a monster by the name of W.D. Gaster as the Royal Scientist, and he began experimenting with the power of souls in hopes that it would yield the key to escaped their dark prison.
Slowly, Amaranthine fell into a deep depression, coupled with nightmares of past battles. On the eve of her 18th birthday, she volunteered as a test subject to Gaster, feeling that her unique soul was the only thing she had left to give. It was quickly discovered among many other anomalies that she was no longer aging – it seemed that see would be 18 forever, a discovery she greeted with a bitter laugh.
During one of the many painful experiments conducted upon her (all of which she bore silently), she was injected with a great deal of determination. It was more than her body could handle, but only just…
She neither turned to dust or a cold corpse – her heart continued to beat, just ever so slowly. And she slept the sleep of the dead. After it was determined that nothing further could be gained from experiments on her barely living shell, her not-quite-dead body was returned to Amun and Channe.
They entombed her deep within the heart of the mountain, hoping that she would one day awaken. But she never did, and many years later, the pack was gone, faded to memory.
And so she slept, for centuries upon centuries, trapped in the grasp of unending nightmares. She might have laid there forever… but then something changed.
A human soul, colored the brightest of reds, fell into the darkness.
Something stirred deep within Amaranthine, and eerily silver eyes long closed to the world slowly opened to greet the suffocating darkness.
By the time she escaped the long forgotten, labyrinthine tunnels in which she had been entombed, all but the stragglers had already returned to the surface after Frisk broke the barrier. And so she walked with strangers to greet the sun, tears of pain and hope streaming down her face as its rays met her eyes for the first time in millennia.
But while she found the world much changed, the humans had not. Still, they hated, and in the next decade, she watched with silent rage as they harmed her chosen people again and again. And so she returned to the Void, weaving the shadows around her heart as so to strike fear into the souls of those that would harm her and those she could come to care for.
Sample Roleplay
Amaranthine looked dully out over the city skylines, still rubbing the vestiges of sleep from her eyes. The night had brought its usual array of terrors, and she felt even more drained than when she had gone to sleep, making her wish that she had never done so at all.
She was on the watch for anti-monster activity – whether it be juvenile actions such as spray-painting monster owned businesses or more serious crimes such as a physical attack, she would be ready. And whatever level of force they use, she would respond in kind.
But the night was quiet, and she found herself thinking of the past. Of how much had changed, and how little.
I see humans… but no humanity.