Roze Deserre Jul 8, 2011 20:29:05 GMT -5
Post by Roze on Jul 8, 2011 20:29:05 GMT -5
full name | Roze Aliciet Deserre
nicknames & titles | The Bladed Rose
time period | 16th Century
age | 19
sexuality | Bisexual
alliance | Assassin
occupation | Besides murdering people, she's a Courtesan
family information | Marcel Deserre was her Father, Her Mother was Mathilde Deserre.
residence | She has a home in Valencia but she moves around most of the time.
physical description | Like an oasis in a desert, Roze is truly a sight for sore eyes. A supple figure and an attractive face, she stands out among her peers for her scalding beauty, often time the center of unwanted attention. Though how often is attention unwanted to one with pathology as narcissistic as hers? But then again she has every right to be like that. Everything about her is exotic, from the color of her skin which is a mild tan in comparison to the denizens of her homeland, a sun kissed complexion if anything, to her sapphire eyes, enchanting but at the same time intense, reflecting her inner fervor. Even though despair can at time strip them of their volition, they can still capture the hearts of anyone who looks into them. She chooses to dress her raven hair rather intricately, braided at the ends but mounted at the top in a puff which is subdued under her decorative band, falling upon her forehead in the style of a ridge with bangs framing her face, further accentuating her beauty.
Roze is anything but shy and she actively asserts this brazen side of her by flaunting her magnificent body with clothes that best compliment her lithe physique. She sports a strapless tank top, revealing to say the least, beginning just above her sternum and ending above the abdomen, along with net-like aesthetics with intricate gold designs that cover sections of her upper body and arms as well as black arm bands extending from her wrists to her elbows. Below the waist she has on a skirt- a perfectly black skirt, about knee length with a parting along he left leg to ensure unrestricted movement. Above the golden borders of the skirt one can see the maroonish straps of her underwear which compliment along the curves of her hips and thighs. Stockings, borne of the finest silk west of Persia, drape her legs in a sheathe of midnight and sandals made with the requirements of a shinobi in mind grace her feet. And that in totality describes the enchantress with her head in the clouds, Roze.
Roze is extremely f*cking awesome. In her mind she is the Earth Shattering Epitome of Cool! Being blessed with an Eidetic Memory at birth she spends hours alone at times, with figures from her past, eventually leading to her transition to her religion as a way to try and find peace with the things she's constantly reminded of every day. She is a soft spoken girl usually only speaking when she has to or when something important needs to be said. In battle she is rampant, loving to get in an opponents face about it. Using every part of her body for combat, kicking, clawing, headbutting and basically berserking her way through combat. She's cocky.. she knows it and she loves it. People can tell her otherwise but she knows who she is and no one can take that from her.
Roze, is calm and almost philosophical at moments. During battle she can reflect this calm and yet violent personality, as she says "I like the glow of blood in this light". She is willing, able, strong, brave, ready to lead, and ready to fight, just like any soldier should be but she embraces the oldest and noblest of thief tendencies... She will always Fight.. to Run away.
likes | High Places, Moonlight, Flowers, Beaches, Long Walks and Sailing.
dislikes | Blunt Weapons and Blunt People, Dry Desolate places, being underground and Pomegranates.
misc | She really f*cking hates Pomegranates.
history | From the first day that light reached Roze’s eyes, it was known that she was destined for something extraordinary. From a very early age she was doing things that other babies weren’t. She began walking at around 11 months, speaking at Age 2 she was speaking and age 3 she was on the go. Always moving from place to place, whether it was her room to the yard or from the bathroom to the roof, she found a way to move and a way to exist. When she had turned 7, things became much more defined to her. The world was just one giant playground and she played in it every day, running from here to there, from this house to the next. It was with these skills later to be referred to as free-running that she obtained her first job and opened the gateway to her destiny. She worked as a Courier for a company reporting directly to King Charles, which was a very coveted position, making money and gaining status in the world. Unfortunately, none of that could stop the wheels from turning. On April 20th 1500, she returned home from work, carrying her latest pay and a smile on her face, when she heard a voice shout from the distance. Turning around she saw a man in a long white cloak fastened with adornments and armaments limping towards her with a deep gash in his right hip, rising up to his chest. She stepped towards him dropping her money and helping him inside. Calling for help from her Father and servants, she laid the man down on the dining room table and removed the hood from his head for a shocking image.
Her father Marcel Deserre, with blood splashed on his face and a large wound in his body as if he had been struck by a large axe. Her mother came down with a medical kit and Marié, the maid of the house. Roze fell backwards as her mother began working on her father’s wounds for what seemed like hours. It was all too confusing; her father dressed as some sort of killer, her mother not asking a single question about her father’s wounds and the sudden increasing sound of yelling in the distance. Her father moved to get of the table to approach the yelling when he was forced back down with a mixture of his own pain and his wife’s firm hand. Her Mother, Mathilde reached into a sheathe hanging off of Marcel’s waist and told Marié to keep pressure on the wound, while she went outside. Roze stood up and followed her mother still a bit too scared to ask about the situation. Looking out the door she saw 3 of the cities guards approaching the door, yelling about Warrants and Assassins but Mathilde kept walking as if she heard nothing. Twirling the rapier in her hand she moved on the guards with such speed and intensity that Roze had time to blink as each guard fell, their jugulars being pierced and blood trickling down their bodies. Slashing the blade through the air, blood trickles fell off as she whistled to Marié who came out and helped pull the bodies into the house. Roze was hurriedly pulled into the house and sat down in the dining room.
Offered some water to calm her nerves, her Mother began the long long tale about fantastic members of a secret society, protecting the world from tyranny and oppression as her father's body was taken away from the room, to be taken to the crypt. The tale went on for what seemed like hours, it was daybreak before Roze was out of questions and her parents out of answers. Standing up she reached to her parents and gave them a big hug. The world’s largest secret now bestowed upon her, she had no choice but to do what she did. She followed her mother to a cellar, hidden behind a vanity mirror in the foyer. The cellar was lined with Bookshelves, Weapon Cases, a large torn page hanging on the wall and in the far end a treasure chest. She walked up to the chest with her mother and opened it up, revealing a long white robe, similar to the one her father was wearing except this one seemed fitted for a woman. Pulling it out she looked at it and then her mother who said only a few words to her before leaving her alone. "Nada es verdad, todo está permitido"
It took her a few years to get into the swing of things. A few years in Japan, learning the craft of honor and invisibility. It was in Japan that she made her first kill. A nobleman of little importance, but it was the experience that she needed. She lost the fear of driving steel through flesh, lost the fear of murder, the stench of blood. She was desensitized. The most important thing she learned in Japan was the use of poisons. The order in Japan was adapt at making poisons that could wrack a man with the most terrible fever. Making her way back to spain she was introduced to the Civil War between Philip of Castile and his wife Joanna. She was going to ignore it but soon enough the pigeon found its way to her doorstep and she was sent into action. The rest as they say is History... "Typhoid Fever" was the diagnosis, but the doctor who handled the autopsy was a frequent in her bed. The next year was a major victory for the Order. Cesare Borgia was killed, and Ezio Auditore was a hero. It was that same year that her own accomplishments were recognized and she was truly inducted into the order. An Assassin of Espana.. on her way to being one of the greats.
roleplay sample |
Running as hard as she could, she couldn't help but think about how difficult this situation had become as of late. The message she received could never have described this amount of danger. Staring forward she could see a few soldiers making their ways towards her. Reaching down to her waist she pulled out 2 of Hell's Teeth. Spinning the small blades in her hands, the smallest of smiles crossed her lips as they left her hands. Flying through the air like sparrows they found they're marks, and 2 more souls were added to heavens net. She grabbed one of the falling bodies as she ran towards the window, bullets flying around her person.
The weight really messed up her run but it wasn't enough to slow her down. Jumping she smashed through the window with the person in tow. She fell through the air, nothing but wind on her back and a dying man in her hands. Thanks for the assist, Sir... but I believe this is your stop? She dropped the corpse and with all the grace she could muster, she kicked him. He fell faster than her and soon enough he crashed into the ground. She followed suite but she had a nice cushiony bag of bones to land on. Standing up and dusting herself off she bowed to the gentlemen cursing at her from the window she just broke and ran off again, hoping to make her way home. Making her way over the wall she couldn't help but laugh. Philip of Castile. Vaya con Dios.