Likes and dislikes

(As Aara's story progresses these will change..)LIKES
Adventures into unknown areas
Learning and experiencing something new.
Fluffy and cute animals
Warm rain
Making new friends
Drinks with friends (can become bold and a bit bratty)DISLIKES
Betrayal
Bitter foodFEARSFlying- not heights so as long as her feet are firmly on the ground.
Being used
Spiders🕸
Cages/ locked enclosed areas

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Past, present.. what does the future hold..

The history that flows through ones blood

Aara Mo’at was born in a village so small and isolated that even the traders who passed through called it “the forgotten place.” It clung to the edge of a forest that locals swore was haunted, a place where the wind carried whispers and the shadows moved like they remembered things they shouldn’t.Her mother was the only warmth in that cold place. A healer with a soft voice and a strange, shimmering magic, she was beloved by the villagers and whispered about in equal measure. Villagers came to her with their wounds and illnesses, but they never stayed long. They whispered that her magic was “too bright,” that it drew attention from things that should remain sleeping. Aara never learned if this was true, because her mother died when she was still young—too young to understand the whispers, but old enough to remember the way her mother’s hands trembled in her final days.No one ever told Aara how her mother died. The village elders avoided the topic. Her father refused to speak of it. And the villagers, who once came to their home seeking healing, now crossed the street to avoid her. Aara grew up surrounded by silence, suspicion, and the lingering ache of a mystery she was never allowed to unravel.Her father, once a proud hunter, fell apart after her mother’s death. Grief hollowed him out, and debt filled the empty spaces. He gambled, drank, borrowed coin from the wrong people, and made promises he couldn’t keep. Aara learned early that love could turn into desperation—and desperation into cruelty. She learned to sleep lightly, to hide when strangers came, and to listen for the tone in her father’s voice that meant danger.She also learned that her father saw her not as a daughter, but as a bargaining chip.She heard the deal before she saw the men. Her father’s voice was low, shaking, but determined. The debt collectors’ voices were calm, almost amused that their boss would be happy her father finally would give him something worthwhile though she was not much. They spoke of her like she was livestock—payment for a debt he could never repay.Aara ran.She made it as far as the treeline before they caught her. Rough hands grabbed her arms. A cloth was pressed over her mouth. She kicked, clawed, screamed—but they dragged her back toward the village, toward the cage meant to take her to their boss.Something inside her broke—or awakened.

The manifestation of light

Her magic surged—not gentle, not healing, but wild and blinding. Light burst from her skin like shattered starlight. The men staggered, blinded. One fell to his knees. Another dropped her entirely, clutching his face. Aara didn’t wait to see what happened next.She ran.She didn’t look back. Not at the men. Not at her father. Not at the home that had never truly been hers. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs trembled, until the village was nothing but a memory swallowed by the dark.But she knew the truth:
They would come for her now that her father sold her not caring if it was for slavery, to clean floors, or worse.
And her father had already shown them what she was worth.So she keeps moving.Town to town. City to city. Never staying long enough to be found. Never trusting anyone fully. Never letting herself believe she is safe. Freedom, she learned, is its own kind of cage—one built from fear, from running, from the knowledge that she is never truly beyond their reach.Yet despite everything, Aara remains soft.She heals strangers without asking for coin. She smiles at children. She dances alone at night to remind herself she is still alive. She forgives too easily. She loves too deeply. She believes—fiercely, stubbornly—that kindness still matters, even in a world that has shown her its cruelty. To the outside she hides her past while running from it.But the shadows of her past cling to her like frost.Her mother’s death still haunts her dreams.
Her father’s betrayal echoes in her bones.
And sometimes, when she uses her magic, she feels something watching—something ancient, something hungry, something that may now be hunting her.Aara Mo’at is a girl made of starlight walking through a world that wants to snuff it out.And still she keeps going.Because she refuses to let the darkness decide who she becomes.

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rp style

Storytelling: My RP is all about making a story. If I could write a book with our RP that is the best kind. I do prefer randomness so I use rolls in RP for battles and other power struggles.Romance: 21+ ONLY A natural over time development is preferred. Aara is made for a slow burn. Enemies to lovers is also possible.Conflicts: IC rivals and enemies are always welcome. Keep OOC and IC separate if you don't like my chara that is fine. You do not have to interact with her. I am not my chara if you have advice about my OC that is constructive criticism OOC me.Torture: Dark themes are ok with me. I prefer them in a RP as it adds depth to the story. I am 100% fine with Aara being kidnapped beaten/tortured or sold. Mental and physical abuse is ok However, this does not mean a constant daily thing. I'm not interested in her being dismembered or killed. If you want a Dark RP OOC me first so I know and so we can talk about exactly what your looking for. I'm still new to RP but I'm all for helping the progress of someone else RP story.Straight ERP: My OC is not a 2 gil whore so look elsewhere. I prefer character development based RP if in a long term RP and it leads to ERP Dark or Vanilla this is fine.

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