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Character Name: Thistle Wayne Alternate Identities: Angel, Lothere Fireoak Player Name: NPC |
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| APPEARANCE | |||||
| Hair Color: | Golden Blonde | ||||
| Eye Color: | Hazel | ||||
| Height: | 5' 6" | ||||
| Weight: | 100 lbs | ||||
| Description: | |||||
| There are very few young girls a beautiful as Thistle and being the only blonde in the family, she really stands out. Rather than being straight, her hair is wavy, and wears it long though she does braid it occasionally. Her other unusual feature, for the family, is her hazel eyes. Even at her young age, she can literally stop traffic. | |||||
| BACKGROUND | |||||
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The girl was tall for her age, just shy of eleven, like her father but slender, with fine bones, like her mother and of her family, parents and eight siblings, the only one with golden blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her twin brother, 4 minutes and 33 seconds her junior, had the black hair and green eyes that ran in both sides her heritage though all shared the pointed ears of their elvish ancestry. She shone like a single star in the black velvet of the night and over the years she had come to regard her uniqueness as both a blessing and a problem. Her eldest sister, Jessy, had, for a time, struggled to separate herself from the huge brood that was her family by experimenting with hair color and for a time she had settled on a golden color, slightly more pale, but had, as she’d grown older, reverted to her natural coloring leaving the girl the sole oddity of genetics. She had been named Thistle for two reasons. The first was her mother’s promise to name the first girl child in honor of her new mate’s lost love and the second merely reinforced the first as the beautiful child was the image of that lost love. To most this resemblance and the very name should have destined mother and daughter to endless conflict, but none knew her mother. Thistle had never for a moment doubted the love of her mother and because she was so secure in her mother’s heart, it was easy to love her mother back, every bit as deeply. She did occasionally wonder what twist of Fate had made her a living reminder of her father’s ‘true love’. Now she sat on the top rail of the paddock in a chambray shirt, jeans, and boots, watching another reminder of a woman she’d never met, the stallion River Arch. For the long years since her namesake had been called to her Goddess, River Arch had been a part of her family’s life, a faintly scary and hostile part. No one had ever ridden him, not even her father with his way with horses. She loved the stallion and had visited him many times with an apple or lump of sugar, and each time he’d refused her offering. Quit, however, was not in her vocabulary and from the age of four she’d tried with all her heart to win over the great animal. In all those years, River had never shown the slightest softening in his mildly unfriendly ways. She drew a lump of sugar from her shirt pocket and held it out to the horse. “Come on, River,” she encouraged. “It’s just sugar. No strings attached.” The stallion continued his circle of the corral veering around Thistle’s perch each time. She gave a sad sigh as he passed just out of arms reach and tucked the cube back into her pocket, saving it for Buttercup. When she looked up from buttoning the pocket, River’s nose was an inch from her own. She froze. His nostrils expanded and the hot, moist exhalation caused her fine golden hair to lift, tickling the points of her ears. Tilting his head slightly, he regarded her from one huge eye alight with intelligence. Then he nudged her pocket with his velvet covered nose, nearly knocking her from the fence. Extracting the lump she held it out on her flattened palm. Deftly he took it using only his rubbery lips and she was so delighted she thought she might cry. Fate stepped in at that moment to kill her. “Eerie!” her brother, Gene, called. Her elvish name, Lothere, had been shorted many years ago by her twin just as she had shortened his Aldarien to Darie. The girl turned on the rail, lifting one leg over to straddle the fence. Her foot clipped the pitchfork leaning there, knocking it to the ground where it bounced and landed with the curve of the tines pointing upward. The great stallion’s head came around and caught the girl in the chest knocking her from her perch. She landed back first onto the up-thrust trio of steel spikes, all three piercing her through, the center skewering her heart. She awoke in the coffin. “What happened?” she said, her fingers at last finding the release button. Her father lifted the lid of the autodoc then gathered her to his chest in a hug so tight she could barely breathe. After a moment he released her and stepped back, his green eyes searching hers. She saw something then she had never seen in her father, fear. Gently he kissed her forehead, tears leaving tracks down his weather cheeks. “How do you feel?” he said softly. “I feel fine, daddy, what’s wrong?” She was wearing a hospital gown, one of those open in the back things that everyone hated. The door whispered into the wall and in swept her family, mother in the lead. Raven wrapped her arms around her daughter and wept tears of joy. Her siblings gathered in closer, each needing to touch her in some way, except, of course, Luthien who hung back. “What was being dead like,” Nicky’s eyes danced with excitement. “Did it hurt getting stabbed like that?” “Nicky, that’s enough,” their father warned. “You guys get out of here and let her get dressed.” Mother released her and snuggled up against her father as the mob trickled out leaving only Gene and Luthien. Her older sister came over to her and laid a hand on her knee. “We don’t have to worry about you ever again,” she said then came up on her toes and kissed Thistle cheek. Luthien gave her a small smile then pivoted and headed out the door. Gene’s face crumbled as the door hissed close. “I am so sorry, Eerie,” he said again using the nickname only he was allowed to use. He looked so wretched she pulled him to her and hugged him. “You didn’t do anything, Darie,” she whispered. “I am fine.” Holding him like that seemed to reestablish their connection as twins and she felt his terror and grief as he rushed to her after the fall only to find the pitch folk sticking out of her in three places. “Oh, goddess, I died?” Wide-eyed she looked to her father. He nodded. “You brought me back?” Her father shook his head. “Even I can’t raise the dead, baby,” he said. “You did it yourself.” Gene released her. “I ran for Uncle Nick but he wasn’t in his tree,” her brother said. “Never a dragon around when you need one,” she whispered then caught her father’s eye and realized that had been his thought too. “I can only surmise that you have some pretty extensive regeneration,” her father said. “Even from death.” “What’s that mean?” she cocked her head at her parents. “Probably as Luthien said. We never have to worry about you dying,” her father replied. “ever. You’ve manifested, baby.” Manifested. It was official, she was a mutant. “What kind of powers do I have?” Her father gave her a half smile. “We’ll have to figure that one out in ComSim.” All of her life her father that been there for injuries great and small, using his own life force to mend broken bone and to knit ripped muscle. She had never given his power a thought and he seemed to think little of it himself. Though genetically manipulated in utero to be far more than either of his parents, her father’s powers had not been pre-defined at birth. Over his long life time his powers had proven to be far more varied then those long-ago geneticists had anticipated. Though some ‘powers’ could be expected in the children of two parents as genetically gifted as her mother and father, it was largely up to Fate exactly what those ‘powers’ might be. Speculation as to what abilities each child would manifest had never been anywhere near the mark and as each reached that time in their life when genetics revealed the truth the family’s expectation of the ‘manifestation’ grew. Though only Thistle, Gene and their youngest brother Nathaniel were the natural product of their parents, certain events involving the custody of Mark, Jessy and Josho, three children rescued by their mother, Raven, had forced their father to use another of his ‘powers’ to alter the very genetic structure of that trio. The remaining trio, the triplets, Luthien, Aaron and Nicky, had originally been clones of Raven but she had insisted that if three were to become the genetic mixing of her and her mate, then all would become so. Mark, the eldest, had gained many of the physical attributes of their father. His strength and speed as well as his rugged good looks made his a younger near copy of his father. Jessy had become the first of the siblings to develop true mutant powers in the strictest sense of the term; she displayed powers and abilities that were not present in either parent. Josho had become as his godfather, the great Mystic Raven, a shapeshifter in touch with all of the natural world. Of the triplets, Aaron was the warrior, Nicky the wizard and Luthien … Luthien was the seer. Now it was Thistle’s turn and with her ‘manifesting’ Gene followed in hours. Thistle sat on the fence of the corral eating an apple and watching River Arch trot the perimeter of the paddock. The crisp sound of that first bite caught the stallion’s ear and he altered course. As she took a second bite the horse’s soft lips brushed her fingers and she let him take the fruit from her. He did not step away with his prize as she expected but reminded within reach. There was no hesitation in her touch as she began to scratch his broad nose and with a massive sigh, the stallion closed his eyes enjoying both the apple and the touch. River Arch had at last accepted her. She hugged the horse’s neck as he raced across the meadows of the valley, his black mane entangling in her golden, he powerful heart thudding in time with her own. It had been more than a decade since the great stallion had opened up like this and Thistle could feel the melancholy that had always possessed him fall away with the exhilaration speed. Wind-whipped tears streaked her cheeks as the love she’d always harbored for River erupted to the surface. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him when she was not even a year old, she’d always known that one day he would be hers. Now the time had come. It had taken her death and rebirth to reawaken the soul of the horse. He was complete once more. |
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| POWERS/TACTICS | |||||
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Thistle is a healer, just as her namesake, but without the requirement to be beholding to a goddess. She is impossible to kill and does not know it yet, but she can raise the dead. She can also heal any know disease or poison. Like all of her sibling, she is being trained in Kenjustu, though she has some years training to go before she can called a Master of the Art. Like her elder sister, Luthien, Thistle is somewhat fragile though after the pitchfork thing she doesn't seem to worry much about it. Gene does all the worrying for her. |
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| PERSONALITY/MOTIVATION | |||||
| Thistle will be the first to jump off the roof of the tower, with a bed sheet parachute. She is the only one to ride the massive stallion, River Arch and she is always up for another round in the ComSim, even if it was Nicky that programed it. She is the adventurous one in the family and the most independent. (Though Gene will never let her do anything alone.) | |||||
| CAMPAIGN USE | |||||
| "You KNOW, Gene, I get to go first from now on." | |||||
| DESIGN NOTES | |||||
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Created: Mon, 12 Jan 2026 13:48:02
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