O'naryi Khilo

The Red Witch

• About
• Hooks
• OOC

"People are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it's true, or because they're afraid it might be true. Peoples' heads are full of knowledge, facts and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true. It makes my job easier."

Physical TraitsRace/Clan: Miqo'te/SeekerSex/Gender Identity: FemaleAge: 26Height: 5'2Body Type: Athletic CurvesFirst Glance/Notable Features:

- Scent: A mesmerizing tapestry of fragrances that captures the essence of the desert's enchanting allure. A captivating blend of sandalwood's earthy warmth, jasmine's delicate sweetness, and amber's rich depth.

- Heterochromia: One eye gleams a brilliant shade of sapphire blue, reminiscent of clear summer skies, while the other captivates with a vibrant hue of emerald green, akin to lush forests.

- Unusual Aether: A fusion of mystic energies are etched deep into her bones. Otherworldly shadow magic interwoven within her very being, radiating dangerously upward and out, corroding and killing the body it resides in.

- Wanted: Dead or Alive -- There's a Wanted Poster with her face on it!!Character TraitsPronouns: She/HerSexual Orientation: Men Preferred, but if the right woman comes along....Sexual Role (if any): BottomRelationship Status: It's complicated


Background Info
- Aliases: The Red Witch, or "Red"
- Class/Job: Dancer/Thief/Treasure Hunter/Witch
- Occupation: AOL Co-owner/Witch
- Patron Deity: N/A
- Nameday: 17th Sun of the 4th Astral Moon (July 17th)
- Birthplace: Ul'dah
- Resides: Ishgard/Ul'dah

Arsenic and Old Lace
Arsenic and Old Lace, a traveling moonlit apothecary hidden in whispered alleys, traffics not just in elixirs and trinkets but in the illicit. Here, O'naryi reigns as assistant of dreams and shadows. She becomes a phantom in moonlit hours, collecting whispers of forbidden treasures from moonlit bazaars and forgotten crypts. These whispers, woven into potions and tales, transform a small traveling shop into a gateway to the extraordinary, each vial a portal, each story a spark igniting the hearts of those who dare to peek beyond the veil.

Hingan Select (AKA: Naraku Merchantile)O'na's role with Hingan Select appeared innocent on the surface, much like the delicate cherry blossoms that adorned the Hingan syled landscape of the grounds. To an outsider, she seems like just another employee, diligently tending to the shop's inventory and assisting customers with their purchases. However, beneath this facade lay a deeper connection, intricately woven into the fabric of Naraku Merchantile's clandestine operations. Only those, who know, know, what goes on beyond the walls of the shop.

Syndicate Street UrchinUl'dah's sun-scorched streets were O'naryi's jungle, her red hair a desert echo of lost silk. Tragedy plunged her into the Syndicate's iron grip, forcing her nimble fingers, once adorned with jade, to become weapons of silent thievery. Days were a pirouette of dust and danger, nights a refuge in the Syndicate's den, bartering stolen trinkets for fleeting oblivion. The debt, a monstrous sandworm, devoured every gilded coin, but defiance bloomed in O'naryi's heterochromatic eyes, a desert storm brewing in the shadow of her stolen past. She wasn't just a sparrow of the Syndicate, but a daughter of lost fortune, and one day, the winds would shift and she would break free, leaving behind a trail of glittering dust and the whisper of a sparrow who dared to rise against the sun.

E'mhaati TiaHer buisness partner, and the original owner of Arsenic and Old Lace. To outsiders, O'naryi and E'mhaati are an enigma wrapped in a rollercoaster. Their passionate partnership, a kaleidoscope of scorching intimacy and icy pronouncements, keeps everyone on the edge of their seats, forever wondering – lovebirds or sworn enemies?

Alistair Cornelius
O'naryi's feelings for Alistair are a contradictory knot, once a love inflamed now burning with betrayal. An ember of affection remains for the man he used to be, but it's overshadowed by the cold fire of vengeance for his arrogance and dismissal. She wants him to fail, not out of joy but as vindication for his actions. Yet, beneath the anger and bitterness, a flicker of grief mourns the loss of what could have been.

Leo HardradaLeo's heart used to be a mystery Ona didn't care to solve. His unwavering morals felt like chains to her free spirit, his predictability a dull echo against her own chaotic symphony. But somewhere along the salty lines of their adventure, the tide turned. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his eyes when he laid bare his feelings, a raw ember flickering behind the usual stoicism. Perhaps it was the way his gaze lingered on her, painting her skin with a heat she hadn't noticed before. Now, every glance towards him feels like walking barefoot on burning sand, an ache blooming in her chest with every shared breath. She craves the warmth of his touch, the way it might soothe the storm within her. What was once indifference has morphed into an overwhelming need, a possessive tug of the heart strings that screams, "Make him yours."

Merci GreyO'naryi harbors a complex mix of emotions toward Merci, a tangled knot of anger, regret, and some lingering affection for the woman. On one hand, there's the gnawing guilt of her betrayal, the memory of manipulating Merci's secrets into weapons, leaving deep scars and shattered trust. This guilt manifested into a gnawing desire to prove to Merci that she is worth being her friend again. However, this spark is heavily overshadowed by the enormity of that betrayal, making it difficult to express. Her true feelings toward Merci remain murky, shrouded in the fog of her actions and the voidsent's manipulative shadow. Perhaps only time and genuine effort on her part can shed light on the true depths of her regret and the future of their relationship.

Ash KeileeO'naryi's heart beats a different rhythm whenever Ash enters the room. It's a slow, deep thrum, like the bass notes of a mournful cello. There's an awe woven into it, a respect for the sheer presence of the woman. Ash is a mountain, both in stature and in spirit, and O'naryi feels sheltered beneath her shadow, protected from the winds that whip through their lives. But Ash is more than just a shield. She's a confidante, a harbor during O'naryi's stormiest nights. She has wept into the rough weave of her tunic, tears finding safe landing on the calloused skin of Ash's hands. There's a comfort in that raw vulnerability, a feeling of being seen with unjudging eyes. Ash listens with the silent stoicism of the ancient trees, absorbing her pain without flinching. There's a bond between them, forged in shared secrets and whispered anxieties. It's a fierce loyalty, built on the knowledge that Ash would stand before any dragon to protect her. O'naryi marvels at her strength, but it's the gentleness tucked beneath the surface that truly tugs at her heart. The way Ash's eyes soften when she speaks of her village, the tenderness in her rough hands when tending to a wounded bird – these glimpses whisper of a soul as vast and wild as the northern expanse, yet holding pockets of unexpected tenderness. She doesn't know what the future holds for them, or what name to give the feelings that bloom in her chest like wildflowers pushing through ice. But she knows, with the certainty of the northern stars, that Ash will always hold a special place in her heart – a refuge, a warrior, a kindred spirit beneath the harsh sky.