Name: Ommin Ambrosio
Age: 27 | Actual age: 499
Species: Aurazin
Role: Empath
Face Claim: Logan Browning

Motherlike | Selfless | Passionate
Untrusting | Clumsy | Introverted

*Trigger Warning - Physical abuse, still birth, violent death*

Vera Ambrosio, third born in a political marriage line of a English colonizer and a Mambo mother. Their marriage was one that was arranged to keep the people of Tainos tame. While they colonized, and reaped the rewards in both the natural, and financial world. Vera’s older brothers of seven and twelve years, were always adored by her father as they possessed strong European genes. While she carried strongly in both her mother's features and tone. As she was the medicine woman for the tribe, her caring nature knew no bounds, helping those both physically and spiritually. Vera was raised to respect both the spiritual and physical world. Learning from a very young age, that the world had ways of healing wounds, staving off infection and  helping soothe the souls of others. She quickly became akin to the life of a medicine woman following her mother around picking herbs and melding them together to help the elderly and sick in the village. While her older brothers learned of their heritage and combat. 

These times would be great learning about her culture, love of nature and Vodou ways until her father came back from his most recent voyage. Vera didn’t know much about her father, as her mother never actually spoke of him. Only shrugging off comments from others in the village with what she would find out to be a very disingenuous smile. Vera’s first memory of Sabastian Ambrosio was a swift back hand, bringing her into the world of the waked. All she was trying to do was pull the man who was hurting her mother away, little did she know that this man technically owned her mother. And he was not going to let little Vera forget it, treating both her and her mother like livestock while he was not sailing. Demanding and unforgiving Vera could see the pain in her mother's eyes, which she was trying to protect her daughter from.  

This horrendous cycle of long beautiful breaks from her father, followed by months of torment would continue until she was an adolescent. Both of her brothers had moved out by the time she was thirteen, leaving just her mother and her to brace against the violent catholic storm which was her father. The English banned Vodou, the practice of her mother and the village. But they would continue to do so in secret, making house calls to help those in need. Until one day Sabastien drunkenly  followed them from their house, curious to see where his property was wandering off too. He caught her mother and her caring for the needs of a dying man. Filled with rage Sabastian did the unthinkable, he stormed into the small hut where the dying man had called a home. Grabbed Vera by the scruff of the neck and booting her mother in the side of the head. Sufficed to know that his wife was not going to stand in a timely manner, he dragged Vera outside of the hut, knocking over the small lantern that was being used to light the hut on the way.  She watched as he held the door closed with his boot, as her weak mother scrambled to try to open the door. Once the screaming stopped, the hut ablaze. Sebastian took Vera and looked her in the eyes. He said the last thing she would ever remember from him.

“You will be nothing like her, you are forbidden from ever practicing Vodou again. And you are never to return to my sight you filthy whore, for if you do. This is your fate.” 

Vera then spent the next years of her life remembering her mother. Travelling from village to village acting as a secret medicine woman. Taking care never to do something that would insult the honored name of her mother. Her skills grew over time, as she gained her own reputation. Vera gained a level of respect that would have made her mother proud, she was happily following in the footsteps of her mother. But history has shown that it repeats itself. When the English moved their colonization deeper into the resource filled Hispaniola islands, she was one of the first people seen as a leader. Most of the Cacique (chieftains) had been executed. Her and other women stepped forward as leaders of small tribes attempting to live a peaceful life away from the English. She was therefore chosen to be the bride of a ship's captain, to secure the alliance between the holy light of England and her uncultured village. She hated how her new betrothed called her people uncultured, simply because they did not share the same beliefs and luxuries. 

Like her Father, her new forced husband Vinçente Çahera did not look kindly on the practices of Vodou. But was too lazy to be as zealous as her father was, for this she was grateful. As she only had to deal with the beatings and him forcing himself on her for a brief couple months every few years. And she would not force someone unto the life that she had, taking medicine and herbs to ensure that she was sterile. Or what she believed to be sterile, once her husband left for a voyage again she began to show signs that she was with child. She knew these signs well as she had helped many a woman through childbirth and the pregnancy as a whole. Fearing what her husband would do if she attempted to stop the pregnancy she kept the child. Only to have her husband return earlier than usual because of terrible storms on the seas, and see that she is with child. Horrified by the fact that his son would not be of pure Spanish blood he beat Vera mercilessly, hoping that this act of aggression would appease God for she was not a Christian and refused to convert. He stayed throughout the pregnancy, not allowing Vera to leave his view or house. This seeded her aggression towards both her husband and unborn. As she progressed throughout the pregnancy this aggression peaked in late pregnancy as she named her unborn, Petro loa in hopes that he/she would one day avenge the criminality of their father and kill him. 

Finally after months of arduous pain and torment, she would be with the child soon. Filled with rage her contractions began, with her husband standing beside her. Unfortunately they would not meet their new child, dying in childbirth. Filled with grief Vera believed that her anger is what  caused the child to die, she spent the rest of the day mourning and soothing the soul of her unborn until there was no emotion left. Only an immense sense of guilt and depression, to which she melded a combination of herbs to help sooth the pain and aid her sleep. She passed into the deepest sleep of her life on the floor beside the very spot where her child was taken from her. Her husband was so filled with anger that he followed perfectly in the footsteps of history. Closing the door, using his sabra to ensure that it was locked and and setting the house ablaze. Vera didn't even feel the heat as she succumbed to smoke inhalation

She awoke… rested but feeling nothing. No grief, anger, regret, or remorse. Thinking of it,  she couldn't feel anything.. At all. There was nothing around, above or below for what felt like a long time. Nothing was cold or hot even. Her mind started to drift as she thought of who she might be. A pain pinged in her chest as she sat up, her mind pulled away from her memories with searing pain and anguish. She could remember glimpses but nothing concrete. A man, an angry man. Someone yelling and the sensation of choking. As soon as it had come it disappeared. Blinking her eyes she began to wander around this desolate dark place. The only form of light seemed to be a light lining around herself. Not a bright beacon. More of a dimmed almost out of wick candle. No sense of time passing to mark how long she had been stumbling through this void here for until her bare toes brushed against what felt like grass? A light fog rolling over the dark area. She started to back away in fear “Hello” Vera called out in a crackling voice. 

“Oh hello there darling”  The voice was soft, refreshing, soothing even. Her eyes could make out a figure in the dark. She reached forward stumbling on weak legs to fall into the arms of a woman. The woman collapsed onto the ground and vera rested on her lap. Looking up her eyes tried to distinguish the woman's face “Momma” She whispered as she reached to touch this strange woman's face, The woman began to glow a iridescent white as Vera closed her eyes at the pain of the light. She felt like she was shifted as the light blinding her even with her eyelids shut began to fade. 

She staggered to her feet blinking a couple times to see a field of wheat flourishing before her. A young black woman about her age stood before her. “Ah, I found you. Been looking for you for a century or two now! You sure are a slippery one!” The woman started flipping through a book, writing something down in it. Vera blinked, confused, standing up. “Umm what...what is happening” Timid and partially blind from the new found brightness. The woman laughed with a deep belly laugh and dove into the explanation of everything. 

After a while of listening Vera nodded her head. The woman asked her what she would like to be called in her second chance at a life and as an Aurazin “Ommin” She said with a need found drive. “To bring good omens to those in need. To let them know their loved ones are rested and at peace.” She would pick the path of an Empath. She Craved to end the suffering of others. To help bring peace to their minds. 

She mainly worked in the forms of butterflies, small gestures and peaceful melodies to entice the person to walk the path. When needed she took more solid forms of favored animals or rarely, a person.  Children were always her favorite to comfort as they easily loved her. Adults were tricky to her but she loved a challenge. She tended to keep to herself within the Aurazin ranks. Seeing more joining their ranks she always made small talk and smiled brightly. Seeming to never talk too long or stay around. She was always working, dug into the world of broken mortals. While on a trip back to the veil she shifted from her butterfly form to her human form. She took a look around the forest and stretched. A day's work done and done! “Socialize or one more?” She muttered to herself as she glanced at one of the entrances to the veil. Deciding she best go show her face as it had been two months since she last spoke with someone of her own kind. As she stepped forward the entrance flashed a light that forced her backward into the portal. She hit the ground on Earth and looked to the entrance bewildered. It was gone. Nothing remains, no spark of magic, no feeling no nothing. Just empty. 

After a while she located Lucian and the others. Finding out none of them knew the reason and for now they seemed stuck.  Before long they found themselves with no choice but to settle down in Evermore. Her people needed to eat, to sleep and to care for their new found human bodies it seemed. Ommin started to learn herbology and new age botany. When Lucian found them land she went to work at growing food and helping sustain their people. So many were looking for the veil, so many stressed. She simply was not the kind of person to stress or worry about things. More to help her people and focus on keeping them in good health and reminding them to care for their bodies as they haven't needed to…. Gods only know how long.