Post by Deleted on Feb 27, 2014 23:22:33 GMT
 Zorion Yuval Ibarra Job:- Servant/Slave/Pet Race:- Danae Province:- The Gray Age:- eighteen (actual date of birth is unknown; however, he goes by the day he was originally found) Gender:- male Sexuality:- demisexual Likes • sweets • being pampered and spoiled • warm bodies • swimming • rain/snow • soft materials Dislikes • harsh tones • itchy clothing • small, confined spaces • being scolded • sharp objects • crowds Personality Traits • loyal • demanding • overly obedient • skittish • possessive The History Living in a world of darkness makes your ability to tell time nonexistent, especially when you were born in a cave that had only two entrances: one somewhere in the wilderness and one in the depths of a lake. Both entrances were hidden, one by water and the other by... Well, he doesn't really know. He never found the other entrance, but he had heard stories. Regardless, the thought of leaving his dark home never cross his mind. Why would he when he was accustomed to the dark? His people, who didn't even have an official name for themselves, adapted to live in the darkness. Their eyes stopped fully developing somewhere along the line of evolution. Their sense of smell and hearing quadrupled. Since his people tended to spend a majority of their time in the water that flooded over three fourths of the cave, they grew gills. Now, these are not the usual gills that you see on a fish. No, they are more like that of an Olm or blind salamander: external gills that absorb oxygen from the water. His people, small in number, knew nothing of the world outside their cave. They didn't believe that anyone would ever find their sanctuary of darkness, so their defenses were practically nonexistent. However, even sanctuary has its invaders. Zorion was just a small child when a group of men and women found the wilderness entrance to their cave. They explored the upper levels of the cave before inching deeper down. Their strange scents reached his people only an hour before they reached the flooded section of the cave. His family fled deep into the waters, but curious little Zorion remained on the damp rocks, listening and waiting. He didn't budge as they neared. The sources of light they brought with them did nothing to the boy. He didn't even squint, but he could hear the gasps of the invaders when they saw his face. More specifically, when they saw his eyes. He was easily captured, leaving the boy stunned the moment he felt the net drape across his skin. He called out to his family as he was carelessly picked up, using a variety of clicks and chirps that bounced off the walls, yet they reflected off the water's surface, never reaching his people. They were too afraid to surface, afraid that they, too, might be caught like the foolish child who let curiosity keep him on shore. He could not tell where he was taken. The different scents that clouded his nose caught him by surprise as they neared the wilderness entrance. He tried to figure out the different between each and every scent, but it was a loss to him. His squirming to escape had stopped not long after leaving the flooded area because of the different scents. He started acting more like a child going on a trip rather than a captive, sniffing the air and tilting or turning his head at every strange sound. The trip wasn't easy, considering he was draped over some man's shoulder like he was nothing more than a sack of flour, but he did not voice his complaints. Okay, that was mainly because he couldn't speak their language. He did chirp in distress every now and again, only to be silenced as his short attention span got the best of him. It would probably be wise to state now that his people did not give him a formal 'name'. It was his captors who officially named him, giving him a first, middle, and last name. The last name came from the captor who more or less 'took him in', and his middle name came from one of the other captors. His first name was simply them trying to figure out what to call him, and being able to shorten the name easily helped finalize the decision. The captor he was handed off to took him a some building that smelled like moldy wood and rain. He liked the rain party, but he could live without the mold. Now, normally someone would try to dart the moment they were let down. Zorion did not. He was in a strange place, and he was not familiar with the scents. Finding his way home after a couple of weeks worth of traveling would have taken a miracle, and he did not want to risk it being killed in the process. With the goal of not being killed in mind, he let his captor do whatever he wanted with him. The first thing that his captor did was put some sort of strange material--leather, he found out later--over his eyes. He didn't understand this, but he allowed it regardless. The rest of his body was soon clothed in some sort of itchy material that Zorion found himself tugging and pulling at all the time, either in discomfort or out of boredom. A collar was also placed around his neck, one that stated his name, though it took his captor a couple of tries to find a collar that would fit somewhat nicely above or below the boy's gills. After his captor was pleased with how the Danae looked, a long process of teaching the boy began. It started with basic speech patterns, something that took Zorion far longer to accomplish because he could not see the movements of the man's mouth. Trial and error, along with a good three years just to get the alphabet and his own name down, had the Danae speaking simple sentences. Pleased enough with that, he tried to figure out what to do with the boy. The primary objective was to get him to where he could easily be sold, but that would take too long just to find the right buyer. As he mulled over this, Zorion began to explore the building he was in. Down on all fours like a dog or a cat--something that his captor could never stop him from doing--Zorion slowly made his way around the first floor. He then found the stairs which took him a while to figure out he could climb up. He kept his nose close to the ground as he sniffed around, trying to figure out where he was and what he was near. He found another flight of stairs and then another. The smell of mold increased, added with dust and probably some rust, and he could have sworn something died in there. He searched through his mind for the proper word for a place that had this scent. Death sounded like a great word for it, but that wasn't a place... Or was it? He didn't know. He took to exploring the area despite the word echoing in his mind. This exploration, however, ended up with him running into various things, eventually having a mountain of boxes fall on him. The sound of boxes falling, along with the clattering of the metal and glass contents within, and the sharp yelp that escaped from his mouth was enough to snap his captor out of his train of thought. He rushed upstairs to find that the Danae had ended up covered in the old lab equipment that had been stored away in the boxes. Glass shards covered the ground, some with red on them. His captor cleared off what he could of the boxes, metal, and broken glass, revealing a blood covered Zorion that shook like a leaf in the wind. Taking him back downstairs, he was cleaned up, and the work of his exploration could finally be revealed. The front portion of his neck was slashed, though it wasn't enough to kill him like it should have. His internal body structure was different than that of other races, so it would take a lot more than just slicing him at the throat to kill him. On his chest were two main gashes that crossed each other like an x, along with some smaller more jagged cuts. It took him a year to fully recover from his injuries. Due to the neck injury, he was afraid to speak, though he was perfectly fine with using the chirps and clicks, along with whimpering and some other vocalizations he had picked up by listening to animals on the trip to the building. His captor didn't know what to do now. It would be harder to find a buyer for such "broken" merchandise. Clothing the boy once more, he decided just to hand him over to one of the passing slave traders rather than trying to find a buyer himself. Once more, Zorion was taken somewhere with new scents and smells, taking him away from the area he had grown accustomed to and throwing him into a new, unknown place. Now all he had to do was wait for a buyer and hope for the best. Abilities N/A |
