Euphemia Til Alexandros

[Guest]

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CASE FILE: Civilian

"Turnaround... Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears..."
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FULL NAME:
→ Euphemia Til Alexandros 
→ Goes by “Aren” 

AGE:
→ 24 25

SEX:
→ Female

BIRTH PLACE:
→ London, Creta. 

RACE:
→ Cretan.

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ June 20, 1986.

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HEIGHT:
→ 162 cm

WEIGHT:
→ 62 kg

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ I don't look like a princess. I don't have the overly fair skin, or the blue blood. No, I look as common as you do. Maybe even more, at times. I don't look very feminine either, but that one's on purpose. I can pull off the “guy with long hair” look, especially if I wrap a bandage around my chest. My voice has a pretty broad range, reaching from a pure and silky soprano, to a men's baritone. Yes, baritone. I know, it's deep. Then again, if I really want to be, I can be as feminine looking as you'd ever ask me to be. I suppose it's just how I am. That said, I wear a lot of gaudy and flowy clothing. Not feminine. Just gaudy.

Yes, my hair is long. Purple, too. Quite a beautiful shade, really. It's easy enough to maintain, and I usually just wear it down, no need to bother putting it up. It's not the longest it's ever been, I'd cut it when I was younger, but now that it's grown back, I can't seem to bring myself to cut it again. Maybe it's just out of respect, maybe I'm too lazy. Who knows?

My eyes are also a pretty shade of purple. Strange, but true. Well, they look purple at some angles, and a bright green in others. I can't explain it. But it's pretty cool, in my honest opinion. And in everyone else's. At least they don't think I'm possessed by a demon or something.

On to my body some more. I've been told I'm sexy, by some people, at least. I don't generally take much notice. I shower regularly, so I'm not a dirty person, but I can live with being dirty and messy, if I have to be. My breasts are pretty average, so I don't get any back pains, like my mother did, and in all honesty, I'm not grand and curvy, either. I have this “tomboyish body” to some people, and there are those who appreciate it.

I walk with a gait that shows that I was once a princess. My feet are always placed in the right places, and my eyes are always watchful of the people around me. Then again, when flustered, I am clumsier than a penguin. It's just how I am, I suppose.

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PERSONALITY:
→ I don't act like a princess, either. I can be rude, crude and full of surprises. Then again, I often masquerade as a male, so this helps me when I do that. My speech can be full of swearing at some times, and completely normal at others, so I can be a bit of a handful to those who don't know how to handle me. But, if you know how to handle my mentality, and you're willing to look past my occasional androgynism, then you'll find that I'm an individual who can both love somebody and keep them safe.

I have a problem with authority. Well, mostly just military authority. I like to keep my freedoms, and it seems that any military has a problem with people's liberties. So I have a problem with them. I mean, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? Yeah, whatever. I'm not friends with Amestris. I'd rather have a democracy here or something – I mean, it may be what destroyed my family in the first place, but I don't care anymore. Anything but military.

I'm a sweet, innocent girl when it comes to one thing, and one thing only. Men. Yeah, I know it sounds strange, but over my entire life I've never dated, and never fallen in love. So whenever I see some cute guy, I usually go straight into my “Aren” mode, and act as if they're just another guy like I'm pretending to be. Quite easy, really, but if I get stuck talking to someone, things are a little more difficult there.

I like pirates. Well, not so much pirates as the idea of a handsome dashing rogue – a person who can sweep me off my feet in seconds. Someone who only follows his own nose, and is prepared to take any chances to get what he needs to survive. I have my honour too, you know. I don't want to see some petty thief, I want to see someone who steals only as a last resort. And hell, if it's a woman... I'm bisexual, so I'll flip the coin either way. Fine by me.

Among other things, I enjoy a good opera. Yeah, opera. I said it. And I don't take it back. I have a fascination with the stuff. It's entrancing and romantic all at the same time. I always have an album somewhere on me, even if there's no way to play it. Maybe it's just the feeling of it, I don't know. But it's always been something I've done. Don't diss it.

Anyway, now to my... uh... problem. I'm a narcoleptic. Look it up. It means that I fall asleep whenever my body decides. It's been a blessing and a curse, well more of a curse, but hey. I'll live with it. I just have to try and direct my body to the safest point when I fall asleep... So if you see me go down, catch me, please? I'll appreciate it, especially if I don't get hurt in the process. And when I appreciate somebody's aid, I'm usually very giving.

Oh, forgot to mention that bit. I'm very giving and philanthropic. I'm a generous girl, and even when I'm poor I'll stop and give to the destitute. It's just who I am, and it's what I'll do. I won't stoop to beggin in the streets, I'm still a princess, you know, no matter how far from the throne I may be right now.

I respect most forms of life, and am unlikely to actually kill unless I'm defending myself. I still carry a weapon, and it can certainly do some damage to your face, but other than that, it's rarely used. I keep it hidden in -whisper whisper-. Anyway, I love violence, well a little bit of violence. It can be stimulating. I also hate to see my own blood. I'm not some fanatic about “royal blood being spilled” or anything, I just don't like seeing my blood. It's icky and gross. And I feel dizzy if I lose too much.


I've discovered more troubling new about my personality. I am, as they say, completely and utterly paranoid. I can't seem to bring myself to completely trust anybody unless I truly care for them, and that makes for some trouble. There are some, like Celesto. However he's a special case, and I can't help but care for him, no matter what.

Yes, Celesto. I am completely devoted to this man. I can't help it, I have no choice. But I don't care. For I love him, and everything about him. And I will make sure he survives. If I no longer love him, he will die. That was the ruling that The Truth gave me. So I will never stop loving him.

LOVE:
→ Puppies; Kittens; Food; Rogues; Being androgynous; violence; giving to the poor; opera; her father; Henry; Spade Aeries; Celesto; Karis; Sal; the Pirate Crew; her bat.

HATE:
→ Creta; death; her blood; Creta; her cousin, Dietrich; her mother; Creta; military; authority; Creta. Oh, did I mention Creta? And Markus Samaris? Oh, let's not forget Dietrich~

DEEPEST SECRET:
→ She was once third in line to the throne of Creta (she tells everyone that she was twelfth)

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HISTORY:
→ Did you know? Creta... it used to have a royal family of it's own. Well, it still does. Just not like you'd think. When our Democratic government rose to power, the Royal Family's power was shaken. We still had some control over the goings-on in Creta, but it was too little, too late. And it's what caused me to leave.

As the Parliament grew in strength, we slowly began to grow weaker, and our words were ridiculed by the government, who had decided that the ways of our family were outdated, and that military rulings and war were the new ideals for life. Some bullshit that was. War brought money into the country, that's all it was. Our family had kept this country alive on it's own feet, using the soul and blood of the workers, tilling the soil until it was ready to grow plants. When those plants flourished, the money that we could get from their sale was more than enough.

That itself was over 100 years ago, just before the war with Amestris began. We were suddenly attacked, a quick blow from our neighbours, a country we were once at peace with. The attacks were fierce, and with the Amestrian Alchemists on their side, we had no way of holding them back. The future looked grim, and it seemed that our country would be at a loss. That was when they took the reins. The democratic government of Creta mobilized all of our reserves. The battle was short – but we managed to hold them back, and drove them past Certa, our outpost to the East.

The country was in shock. Their royal family had failed them, their people were decimated. They looked towards the ones who had saved them, the Democratic Government of Creta. We could only watch as the country's support was moved. We were no longer important, we had as much power as your average MP – we were nothing.

The year is 1945. Aerugo has been defeated by the Allied strength. We have held back Amestris successfully for the second time in 50 years. The people's morale has risen higher than Mount Everest. Yet, they no longer look towards our family. Their eyes are set upon the Government in their seat of power. We are now but figureheads, puppets with as little say as anybody else in the country. In short, we were all but defunct. The people still saw us as something to respect, but our royal lineage was being diluted – marrying out of the family, children only half-royal, quarter-royal. It was blasphemy to some, and they seceded, creating small branch families of their own, the “pure-bloods” of Creta.

41 years after this incident, I come into the picture. I am a “lowborn”, yet born of the highest ranking, for my mother was the current Queen of Creta, and no less. My father, on the other hand, was a simple man, for my mother had to follow our traditions.

”The King of Creta may only father one child, the first-born. After that, if the Queen wishes to have further children, she must find her own suitors willing to father the children for her.”

This meant that my older brother, Henry, was of the most Royal blood in the family, and he was first in line for the throne. My cousin, Dietrich, was next in line after him. I was to be placed third for the throne, a position few contested among the family – the more Royal blood you had within you, the closer you were to the throne.

As a baby I was considered a menace. I was the sort who would climb over everything, and everything I touched either disappeared, or was found smashed on the ground. This caused some annoyance among my mother and her servants. They decided it was best for me to live out of the palace, until I was of the age where I cuold understand, and be mature about living in this place.

So, for the first five years of my life, I lived in a cottage with my father, on the outskirts of London. As the five years went past, he taught me, not of princess-like manners or living life as a Royal, but of the outside world. He taught me of Amestris, and showed me their Alchemy. He taught me of Drachma and it's cold and hostile territory. He showed me Aerugo and the way of the Samurai. He showed me Xing, and it's ever-unique Royal Family. Finally, he showed me Ishval and Xerxes. And it was the ruins and histories of these two city-states that fascinated me the most.

When I was deemed old enough and mature enough to return to the palace, I did so... after a lot of resistance. They literally had to show me that my father was being held at gunpoint, just so I'd let them take me. Just imagine that – a five-year old PRINCESS, kicking and screaming high hell, just so she didn't have to be taken to the palace once more. But, can you blame me? All I wanted was a home, and I'd known that place to be home for the first five years of my life.

Thereafter, I returned to the palace, and began to get tutored in the ways of being a true Cretan princess. This was Hell on Earth for me, as I was so uncomfortable with wearing these fancy clothes, and eating fancy foods. I just wanted to go back to living with my father. For the first few months, I voiced my concerns to anybody who would listen. After that, I simply gave up... and drove myself to tears by my bedside each and every night.

One of these nights, my older brother came into my room, having heard strange sobbing noises. Seeing my eyes swelled up with tears, he automatically began to ask what was wrong. Shaking, I told him... and he listened. That night I talked like I'd never talked before, a six-year old divulging all the secrets and emotions that she'd bottled up over the months. And instead of simply leaving after I'd finished, he talked back, asking me about my father, and what I'd been taught over the years. That night, we talked until 6 in the morning, not looking at our clocks until it was too late.

We received our punishments in the end, my brother was not allowed to see his friends, and I was banned from dessert for a week each, but I didn't care. Even as a six-year old, I saw the benefits of talking like I had, telling somebody about my problems and having them listen. And once a week after that, at the same time every night, me and my brother talked for hours straight (not until 6 am, of course). I told him of my problems, and he asked me more about what my father had taught me, and we talked into the night, retreating to our beds at midnight.

On one of the nights we talked, he began to act weirdly. This was about a month before my seventh birthday. He started to talk differently, acting as if he didn't care about what I had to say anymore! I couldn't tell at the time, but his breath reeked of alcohol, and he was in my room to try and avoid being caught drinking. This was just the beginning – he hid his alcohol in my room and drunk it every time we talked, threatening me with pain if I ever told anybody. A seven-year old like me? I complied, not wanting to be hurt by my drunkard big brother. When I asked him why he was doing this, his reply was simple.

”I can't take this life any longer.”

Even I could understand what he was talking about. The stresses of being the first in line for the throne were getting to him, and he was using alcohol to numb down the pain. Even my big eighteen-year old brother couldn't handle it, and I thought I was having trouble. So I didn't say anything, and he left me alone. We just sat there in silence, the only noise showing being the sound of his drinking. There were nights when I couldn't even bear to be near him, so I sat in the room adjacent to mine, listening to him lament over how difficult his life was. He thought his life was difficult? He had it all! Well, except for freedom. I had less freedom than he did now, but more than he had when he was my age...

This ordeal lasted for about three more months, reaching it's peak in the middle of October. My mother's handmaidens had decided to check on me one night, coming across my brother, who was sitting on my bed drinking. When they looked for me, they found me in the other room, and asked me exactly what was going on. Unable to escape, and therefore unable to avoid the question, I told, and the women took my inebriated brother away to my mother and the King.

I never saw him again – they told me he'd been exiled from the Palace, and that he was a blasphemous freak who didn't deserve to be a part of this family. That was the first night. The first night I became scared. The first night I began to wonder if that would happen to me. So I straightened up in public. Became the model princess, and the perfect daughter. I did everything that was asked of me, and yet... I hated it. It was too prim and pretty for me, a girl who would've had more fun splashing in mud puddles and shooting skeets. Instead, I had to drink tea and entertain guests. C'mon, I was only eight!

But I listened, grudgingly. And I followed, even more grudgingly. But... this was when it all really began. I started to fall asleep, especially at random times. Nobody could explain it rationally, they had never heard of my condition. Narcolepsy, some people called it, but my mother called it something else. Demonic. She wanted nothing to do with me anymore. If I couldn't have my demons exorcised, I would have to leave the palace. So I left the palace, and went back to living with my father. The best decision my mother had ever made... or so I thought.

As a matter of fact, they tried time and time again to exorcise the demons that were in my system. I was nine, dammit. Yet everything I did, they found to be a failure. I couldn't take it anymore! I was already exiled from the palace, why were we still living in London? I turned to my father for guidance, and asked a simple question.

”Can we move away?” That innocent question lead my father to make a rash decision. He took me, and we ran away. We left London, and moved into Amestris, choosing to live in West City. This allowed me to learn more, and I was being taught by him about the proper way to live, not the Royal way to live. I enrolled in a local school, and began to learn from the common children and teachers there. It was FAR more exciting than being a Royal. That's not to say the Royals of Creta didn't try to get me back. For a family with less power than your average citizen, they were surprisingly resourceful.

At least once a month, they approached my father at home, or me at school, and tried to tell us that my mother and the King were very sorry, and they wished for us to return. Both of us refused their offers, and by the time I was ten, it seemed that they'd gotten the message. Or so we thought. Their next month, on the same day, they came to my school in a van. They grabbed me, and forced me into the back, covering my mouth with a gag. My inquiring gaze was answered with a simple sentence.

”You mother wishes to see you.” The only thing that I thought was that they were taking me back to Creta. They were kidnapping me and taking me to Creta! No, no, no! Wait, no... The van had stopped earlier than I'd expected, and I was taken out, and sat on a seat in frotn of... my mother? She apologized for her rudeness, but my father wanted nothing to do with her. She simply had one message for me.

”Don't be a princess. Be a normal girl. Live life to the fullest.” Then they took me away, leading me back home to my sobbing father.

5 years passed, and still no war between Creta and Amestris resulted. They seemed to be at arms, but nothing more. I couldn't bear to watch much longer, and simply ignored the news, ignored everything. I had to disguise myself, leaving the house with bandages around my chest, and putting on a slightly masculine tone to my voice. If I looked like a boy, they wouldn't recognize me as the Princess, right? Right. It worked a charm. I lived and worked hard, as any fifteen-year old would. 2002 came to pass, and my sixteenth birthday had a surprise guest.

”Hello, Princess.” The look of shock on my face turned to relief. It was... it was Henry! It seemed that his exile had done wonders for him, and he had both gotten off the drink and turned over a new leaf, living life as a commoner. When I told him of Creta's plight, his face turned from a calm visage to a look of horror and worry. He was sickened by this act, and couldn't stand hearing any more of it. He looked me straight in the eye, and spoke as calmly as he could.

”I will be the one to kill Dietrich.” That was that. He left, and joined Amestris' military under West City's rule. I never heard from him, not until four years had passed. Well, I wouldn't call it hearing from him. More like hearing about him. He'd been promoted, and was working as the second-in-command to the West's commander, Frank Rockefeller. Still not hearing from him, I went and visited the West City HQ to see if I could find him. I was so lost...

And then he appeared in front of me, this beautiful man. I didn't know him, not personally, but he seemed to want to help me at any length. He found my brother for me, and we sat and talked for a night, like we had when I was younger... Pity. That was the last time I saw him.

Two years later, shocking news reached my ears. Dietrich had taken the throne in a large-scale takeover. He gathered followers, and killed my stepfather. My mother tried to escape, and he killed her too. I knew that Dietrich would turn out to be my kill - I just didn't know when. But I knew it. And I would make sure that I was the one to end his life.

The last part of this story happened... when Creta attacked. It was a large-scale battle, there were casualties on both sides. My brother... he was one of the first to be killed by Markus Samaris and his troup. I heard that Frank died too. So did the man who had helped me. And then... it got even worse. My father. He couldn't live with the grief of being a part of Creta once again, and took his own life, hanging himself off of our ceiling. I couldn't take it either, and ran. I left West City, and took the first train to Central City. That was where I would live, and foster my hatred for Creta.

And now, we come to the present day. Upon entering Central City, I began wandering out late at night. I don't know why, I just did. Maybe it was to keep my sanity? Anyway, I met someone. Someone who was doomed to die. Josef Draper. Even with me pointing a flaming bat at him, he stayed calm and kind. So... I don't know. To be honest, he kind of gave me hope for humanity once more. That was nice, I suppose.

My next meeting with someone was with the Pirate Captain, Jack. How do I put this... he was amazing. Someone I felt I could rely on for protection. So I joined his Pirate Crew. It was a great hiding place, and I began to learn to protect myself, even if I couldn't protect those I cared about. Then I met him. That beautiful, blonde man.

Celesto S. Krow. We met, and I don't know.. Things just happened. Hell, all we were doing was going to buy dinner. And we were confronted by a certain blonde man. Dietrich. I felt all of my hate boil up into anger within milliseconds. In a pure rage, I went straight to fight him, Celes unconscious on the ground behind me. My bat and his saber collided, and I knew that I would not win. Every hit pushed me back, until I fell back and hit the ground. He stood over me, ready to kill me, and Celes woke up, preparing to kill him. I couldn't let him take it. I couldn't let him kill who I had to kill. But I let him live. I don't know why, but I let him go.

And eventually... it came to that night. Celesto... was trying to resurrect his twin brother, Karis. I came into the room, not knowing anything, and was suddenly caught in the Transmutation. And before me...

Spoiler:

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TRIVIA:
→ Speaks Cretan, Amestrian and Ishvallan.
→ Has Narcolepsy – which means that she falls asleep randomly and without any real warning. 

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ABILITIES:
→ Aren's abilities are purely passive, things that she cannot control. It depends on her feelings, and she is basically the tether keeping Celesto alive and healthy. If she was to feel some kind of doubt, or start to dislike Celesto, he would fall ill. As her feelings for him wane, he gets worse, until she loses all love for him. If Aren were to lose all love for Celesto, he would die.

Also, Aren has the innate sense of understanding Celesto's condition. The Truth's conditions were that he wouldn't die if she were to still love him. Because of that, she can tell what his condition is at any point in time, and know exactly what he needs.

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ALIAS:
→ Euphemia Til Alexandros, Euphie, Aren. It'll be one of those. XD

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Hild, Dai, Aliy, Meno, Apos, Markus (Will be replacing Markus)

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ This may have been one of the largest apps I've ever done! XD The history itself was 450 words before she was born!!!

FACE CLAIM:

Code:

[b]FINAL FANTASY V[/b] [i]Faris Scherwiz[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
→ TETHER

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[Aurelius Schwartz]

REVISE

1. Too many pictures.
2. It has been brought up that people believe you are trying to copy Aki's obsession with an over-abundance of pictures please re--
APPROVED
^.^ You can do all the fun shit <3

[Reila Tsukino]

APPROVED

<3

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