Eternal City RP

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Talia Duquette

Talia Duquette
Faceclaim: Chloe Grace Moretz
Species: Pure Nephilim
Age: Looks 18; Real 18
Status: Not In The Community
Family: None

Talia Duquette, the name had a form of elegancy to it, yet when face is put to name, elegancy is a word rarely used to summarise such a person as herself. Talia has been, for the most part, an average human being for her entire life, she woke up every morning, going throughout her day as any other young adult about to finish their senior year of High School. Sure, her grades are far above average, her inner perfectionist constantly pushing her to become eager for the next challenge.

However, this person that we see today, the young and beautiful woman that was only just beginning down the path of discovering herself and the wonders of the world she has yet to uncover, has not always been who she believes herself to be. Unfortunately for herself, Talia’s life was soon to be flipped around, from promising student to.. Something else. To understand these changes, we need to dwell into the mysteries of history, there we will uncover the meaning behind these sudden changes in our story.

It all began in the late 1990’s with a young couple, a deeply in love pair that would quite simply die for one another if it were necessary. These two had met just weeks before and had almost immediately become inseparable, their love for one another inexplicably sudden. These two lovers were something special however, they were beings known as Nephilims, beings of light, created to keep the very existence of Angels ongoing. But that’s another story, for another time.

Now, we focus on our newly weds, the two seemed unable to be apart from one another for more than minutes, they craved one another, as if the existence of each other relied solely upon their ability to remain together, locked in an immortal embrace of passion. Their love pure, a rare thing indeed in such a time, where hate and despair dominated majority of the world's population, will soon give life to that of something far more pulchritudinous than themselves.

It had been no longer than a fortnight since their unity as Husband and Wife that the woman announced to her loving partner and their families, that they were to have a child. It was an auspicious time, both sides of their family celebrating, the couple celebrating far more than anyone as they had always wished to start their very own family, unfortunately there was going to be little amounts of joyous occasions occurring soon enough. This child, the one that they had always dreamt of having, was going to be the nightmare that tore them apart.

Nine months later, a gorgeous blond little girl had been birthed into existence, her small crown already baring hints of golden locks. The couple could not be more over the moon, their spirits higher than their wedding night, but their favourable lifestyle will soon be stripped of all laughter, all happiness and of course, all hope. The first night of the newborn's life had arrived, she lay quiet and restless in her hospital crib, amongst others just like herself, while her mother slept mere rooms away, her husband also sleeping by her side in an armchair.

The horrors of that night was something of legend, the entire country had manifested a scene of pure trepidation. Everyone in that hospital, hundreds of men, women and even children, died that night. If only their deaths had been slow, would there be any redemption for this story. Midwives and nurses alike arrived the following morning, blood drowning the floors of each level, bodies and parts of such strewn throughout the facility, all life inside had been extinguished from existence in one foul movement of terror by an unknown entity. The curious detail of that night however, was not the loss life, but the remainder of a single one, the newborn belonging to the loving couple persisted through the barbarity that raged around her, not a scratch on her smooth skin, all that remained being a name tag on her wrist; “Talia Duquette”.

However magical and disturbing her beginning had been, Talia’s life after that night held nothing resembling either of those things, in fact she lived a normal life, being adopted by a middle aged couple far north, in a city called Evermore. She grew up knowing nothing of her origin, believing the couple in Evermore to be her true parents, unaware of her prodigy, her abilities, her life that could have been.

Talia went through her early years with ease, it was when her body began to mature and become a woman that her spirit also adapted, becoming the Pure Nephilim she was born to become, little to her own knowledge however. She went from a fun loving child, to an outgoing, courageous, fierce woman.

Now, we return to today, the young adult known as Talia, or ‘Lia, as her adoptive parents call her. Currently undergoing her final year of High School, she conducts herself with such pride that it was obvious to most that she was something of an outstanding paragon of her time. Talia excels in all of her subjects, getting nothing less than perfect grades and then in her after hours activities, she undergoes Judo classes on Mondays, Boxing on Tuesday, Gymnastics on Wednesdays & Thursdays, then on Fridays she juggles two hour sessions of both Ninjutsu & Akido. Her schedule had been slowly filled with martial arts training since she began high school, a natural calling that she herself barely understood, but at the same time it was a passion that she was in no way going to give up anytime soon.

Talia is a rough nut, so to speak, her style of communication always taking the turn of humour over tears, violence over remorse. She was something of an outcast, never quite fitting in with any bracket of social group, she simply focused herself on her studies and physical training, using it as an outlet for her natural temper that rose whenever she was talked to, looked at or treated in an undesired way. It could be that she was simply that her personality was shaped from her experience as a newborn, or that she was just different to everyone around her, or perhaps a bit of both.

Well, it is about time we wrap up this little piece of expositional literature, how better to do so than with a small piece from Talia’s own thoughts, written down in a forgotten corner of her own diary?

I cannot see the path
But my feet always follow
My eyes cannot focus
But my mind always knows

I can see the end
But I do not understand the beginning
How am I to prevail,
If my God has set me up to fail?