Character profile

Delfina De'Puy

Race:

Human

Gender:

female

Age:

36 years

Birthday:

3. Mas 39 AW

Currently offline

Description of the character

he genteel beauty of her countenance, the symmetry of her form, her curvilinear, almost sculpted, comely figure accommodates a tapered waist, redolent of a decanter in its shape, demanding attention. A pair of lightly arched, pencil-thin eyebrows eased down upon sweeping black eyelashes that often blinked languidly, inviting.

Everything in the features of her face produced an imposing impression even before the sugary dulcet voice had given utterance to its words: the unique upward lift of the edges of golden, deep-set eyes, the delicate tan of her skin and burnished complexion, the elegance of her straight, upturned nose, the marked leanness of her jawline, strong but feminine, the prominence of her high cheekbones, the deep and defined V of her cupid's bow atop a pair of calamine hued voluptuous lips.

Her style is an individual one, piquant, marked by grace and elegance, encompassed by thickly lustrous, moon shadow-black hair, never a flyaway in sight, harbouring a pair of scrolled, dainty ears. Carmine-red fingernails, the centre of attention of her hands, are, more often than not, wrapped around the amulet that hangs from her neck.

The amulet, a charmed amethyst heirloom, was a precious family relic that had once belonged to her grandmother, Marie Dampierre. It had been passed down from Marie to her daughter Margaret, and now to Delfina.

The amulet's design was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a sharpened cone entangled in delicate silver filigree. Its amethyst core, dark and mysterious, held within it a latent power that pulsed with a faint, ethereal glow whenever Delfina touched it. It remains her most cherished possession, a tangible link to her heritage, and a source of comfort in the darkest of times.

Story of the character

he night was shrouded in a palpable tension, as if the very air had thickened with foreboding. The moon hung low in the obsidian sky, casting a silvery glow upon the cobblestone streets of the city. At sixteen years of age, Delfina stood among a hushed and somber crowd that had gathered in the town square, her heart pounding in her chest.

The council members, clad in their austere robes, held a sinister presence upon the elevated platform, their stern faces etched with judgment. They had accused her grandmother of consorting with dark forces and practicing forbidden magics, and the night was to be the reckoning.

As the ominous silence descended, the echoes of whispered conversations filled the square. The townsfolk spoke in hushed tones, unsure of their own loyalties, torn between reverence for the Du'Puy family and the fear that swirled around the Blood Witch legacy. Delfina could feel the weight of their collective gaze, the unspoken judgment that hovered over her like a dark cloud.

Her heart ached, torn between love for her grandmother and the knowledge of her mother's warnings about the potential repercussions of defying the council. She looked up to the elevated platform, where her grandmother stood, her eyes unyielding in the face of her accusers.

Yelling erupted from the council members, their voices dripping with righteous condemnation. Accusations were flung like poisoned daggers, and the square reverberated with the harsh echoes of their words. The accusations were a cacophony of chaos, accusing Marie Dampierre of summoning dark entities, of casting malevolent spells, and of being a danger to the city.

Amid the chaos, Delfina's mother, Margaret, stood at her side, her grip on her daughter's arm firm, her voice a solemn whisper, urging her to remain silent. "Delfina, my love," Margaret pleaded, her voice shaking with fear. "Please, you mustn't say a word. It's too dangerous."

Delfina's heart ached with the unbearable weight of the moment. She wished she could do something, speak out in her grandmother's defense. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched the council's relentless judgment unfold.

Their sentence was swift and ruthless, condemning her grandmother to a gruesome execution. Delfina couldn't contain her anguish any longer. In a moment of raw emotion, she raised her voice, her tears glistening in the moonlight.

"NO!" she cried out, her words a desperate plea that echoed through the square.

"You can't do this!"

As the crowd watched in horrified silence, the council's sentence was carried out, and the night was marked by a macabre spectacle. Delfina's heart was a tempest of emotions—grief, guilt, and a profound sense of helplessness. She knew that her own indecision had indirectly caused her grandmother's death, and the realization haunted her like a relentless specter.

Delfina's blood had been the missing link in a ritual that could have saved her grandmother, a ritual that their coven, Cercle de l'Eclipse, had hoped to perform. The knowledge that she had hesitated, that her fear and indecision had indirectly led to her grandmother's death, was a heavy chain around her heart. A profound sense of guilt and regret surged through her, twisting her insides and leaving her with a burning ache that seemed insurmountable.

That night.

The night of her grandmother's execution would forever be etched in her memory as a vivid and haunting tableau of turmoil, a night that changed the course of her life and set her on a path of seeking redemption and acceptance in a world that had cast her family aside.