A Closer Look
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"Quote."
– X
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C O V E
Feminine | "Small bay" | English
E L O W E N
Feminine | "White elm" | Celtic
S A L V A T E R R E
Surname | "Saviour" | Latin
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BASICS
⎨NAME⎬
Her full name is Cove Elowen Salvaterre, chosen by her mother from the old tongue, Elowen meaning "white elm," a symbol of endurance and rooted strength.
⎨ALIAS(ES)⎬
She usually goes by Cove or occasionally Covey. Her father used to call her Wren as a child, when she flitted around his workplace like a curious bird.
⎨AGE⎬
She is 22 years old.
Born on the first thaw of Spring on March 7th, which makes her a symbol of resilience, renewal, and fragile hope often associated with the Pisces.
⎨NATIONALITY⎬
She is from Theramore, living under the reign of King Lucerys Blackfyre and Queen Elodie, though her life has unfolded far from the grandeur of their halls.
⎨BIRTHPLACE⎬
She was born in Mournhollow, a secluded village near the edge of the Starless Forest, where the silence lingers heavily in the air and hungry eyes seem to watch you from the shadows.
⎨OCCUPATION⎬
Formerly an apothecary's apprentice and herbalist, now a traveler, healer, and reluctant guardian of her father's legacy, forced by circumstance into both survival and responsibility.
⎨BUILD⎬
Petite and fine-boned, more human than Fae in her movements; neither clumsy nor graceful, but careful and deliberate. She lacks physical strength, but there is quiet endurance and urgency in the way she carries herself, as though her body remembers the necessity of survival.
⎨COMPLEXION⎬
Pale with warm undertones and a light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, that grow more prominent under the sun
⎨HEIGHT⎬
She measures 165 centimetres, but her stature is petite enough that she must stand on tiptoe to reach a high shelf or crane her neck to meet a taller figure's gaze.
⎨EYES⎬
Vivid hazel-green, shifting with light and emotion. They hold a searching, watchful quality, as though always bracing for shadows.
⎨HAIR⎬
Chestnut-brown, with sunlit copper glints, falling in soft waves. Often tied back out of habit while she works, though strands are forever slipping free to frame her face.
⎨TRADEMARKS⎬
Her most visible trademarks are the silvery scars that trace her neck, collarbone, and arms, making her skin a canvas of memory or nightmare.
Yet another lingers in her laugh – rare, but unmistakable when it surfaces: Bright, melodic, and startling in its warmth, a sound that feels almost foreign after years of silence.
⎨QUIRKS⎬
She possesses a photographic memory, recalling every word, detail, and image with merciless clarity. Her stubbornness roots her like stone once her mind is set. Her handwriting is flawlessly neat, every letter deliberate and exact.
⎨SEXUALITY⎬
She considers herself to be heterosexual.
⎨STRENGTHS⎬
Knowledge is her weapon, her craft an extension of both her parents' legacies; tinctures that mend, powders that harm, and remedies that can alter the course of fate. Beyond this, she has an innate resilience, a refusal to let her scars define her worth. She is steady, precise, and when pushed, capable of remarkable resolve.
⎨WEAKNESSES⎬
She carries trauma in her bones, which makes her wary of touch, skittish in crowds, and easily unsettled by silence that feels too deep. Her stubbornness often leads her to press forward when retreat would be wiser, and she sometimes isolates herself rather than lean on others for support.
⎨LIKES⎬
She finds solace in her craft; the grinding of herbs, the scent of parchment and ink, the order of her notes aligned just so. She delights in the quiet joys of life: A hearth's warmth, the shy bloom of spring, or shared laughter.
⎨DISLIKES⎬
She fears the dark, and prefers sleeping with a lit candle nearby. She despises eerie silences, disarray that threatens her work, and above all, being dismissed as fragile.
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BACKGROUND
"Quote."
– X
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THE ALCHEMIST'S DAUGHTER
BORN OF LOVE, SHAPED BY LOSS, AND TEMPERED BY SHADOW
In the shadow of the Starless Forest, where the canopy swallows sunlight and the air tastes faintly of moss and secrets, lies the secluded village of Mournhollow. It is a place where the world feels smaller, hushed, as though holding its breath in the presence of the looming darkness that borders it. Here, Cove Elowen Salvaterre was born to a pair of unlikely lovers – Ilaris Salvaterre, a mortal alchemist with hands forever stained by tinctures and ash, and Hestia, a Fae botanist whose voice carried the whisper of leaves and whose eyes held the patience of ancient trees. Together, they tended a modest apothecary, offering remedies and healing to villagers who placed their fragile faith in the knowledge of herbs and flame.
But joy is often fleeting in places haunted by shadow. When Cove was scarcely three years old, her mother was lured into the dark by the very creatures whose existence most dared not name. Darkfiends, soulless predators drawn to light and life, ensnared Hestia and left nothing behind but silence and the bitter ache of loss. From that day forward, Ilaris became a man divided. In the daylight he remained the gentle apothecary, raising his daughter with tender instruction, guiding her through the careful art of balancing herbs, metals, and flame. But in the dim hours of the night, grief hollowed him, and obsession filled the void. He sought not only remedies for the ailments of flesh but a cure for the greater affliction – the soul-devouring bite of the Darkfiends. He poured himself into alchemy with fevered devotion, his wife's diaries and botanical notes serving as compass and scripture.
Cove grew in the space between his tenderness and his madness. By day she measured powders and crushed leaves, her slender fingers learning to distinguish healing herbs from poison by touch alone. By night she watched her father pace and mutter, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless toil, his hands trembling with both hope and despair. Yet even in his unraveling, he cared enough to tether his daughter to his work. Quietly, without her knowing, he began feeding her the fruits of his experiments: Tiny doses of the elixir he crafted, until one day she carried within her veins an immunity no mortal or Fae before her had possessed.
"I'm just the wind in the trees, the shadow, and the fright.
The echo in the leaves... The nightmare in the night..."
– Rachel Gillig
When Cove reached nineteen, Ilaris declared his life's work complete. With vials of his perfected cure and his notebooks bound in leather, he set out with his daughter through the deep forest paths toward Stormhold Castle, where kings and scholars might bear witness to his triumph. But the forest, ever watchful, had its own designs. The Darkfiends descended upon them beneath the eternal gloom of twisted boughs. In the chaos, the cure was shattered, the pages torn to tatters. Cove watched in helpless horror as her father was taken, his screams giving way to silence as he was remade into the very thing he sought to destroy.
The Darkfiends turned to Cove next. But when their venom sought her soul, it recoiled, finding no purchase. They could bleed her, yes – her body yielded – but they could not hollow her. And so they kept her. A curiosity. A pet. A vessel of endless sustenance. Her captivity was a living nightmare. In their lairs beneath the trees, where the air reeked of iron and rot, she was made to kneel when summoned, her mind bound by compulsion. They came in shifts, cold mouths at her throat, their whispers sliding like oil through her skull. They left marks upon her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone – dozens, then hundreds, until her pale skin was a tapestry of scars. Between feedings, they lulled her with a twisted facsimile of care: Stale bread pressed into her hands, thin blankets draped over her shaking form, water set within reach. Just enough to keep her breathing. Just enough to keep her useful. And through it all, her mind remained her own – untouched, awake, screaming in silence. She counted time by the aching cycle of wounds that healed and reopened, by the scraping of claws against stone, by the hollow echo of her father's laughter that lingered in her memory. For three years she endured, trapped in a body that was no longer hers to command. Yet she remembered. Every formula. Every ratio. Every line of her mother's neat script. The cure lived in her blood and her memory, though everything else had been stripped away.
"You did not come all this way to yield to despair."
– Rachel Gillig
Freedom came not by her strength but by chance. One night, when the Darkfiend who held her leash was struck down in a clash she barely comprehended, the command tethering her will snapped. The compulsion dissolved like smoke in wind. She felt it – the first true breath in years. And she ran. Her escape was no triumphant flight but a stumbling, desperate dash through the undergrowth, branches clawing at her skin, thorns catching in her hair. She fell more than she ran, knees bloodied, lungs burning, but still she fled, guided only by the primal instinct to live. Behind her, the forest keened with howls and pursuit, yet somehow she broke free of the Starless boughs and into the faint mercy of dawn.
Now, scarred and wary, she walks the world with shadows at her back. Her voice trembles when she speaks, and sudden movements draw her like a startled deer. Yet beneath the surface of her fear burns something fierce: A fire stoked by grief, by memory, by stubborn defiance. She alone carries the knowledge her father gave his life for. She alone bears the immunity their world so desperately needs. The Darkfiends took her childhood, her family, her freedom, but they did not take her purpose.
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CORE TRAITS
"I feel like a constellation of wounds, held together with string and stubbornness."
– Holly Black
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◌ TRAIT #1
adj. | x | x
1. Coming soon...
◌ TRAIT #2
adj. | x | x
1. Coming soon...
◌ TRAIT #3
adj. | x | x
1. Coming soon...◌ TRAIT #4
adj. | x | x
1. Coming soon...
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ASTROLOGY
P I S C E S
February 19th – March 20th
"Quote."
– X
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Compassionate· Fearful· Naïve· Artistic· Overly trusting· Intuitive· Sad· Gentle· Desires to escape reality· Wise· Can be a victim or a martyr
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Ruled by Neptune, this woman was born with subtle emotions, and secret mystic depth. She is friendly and kind-hearted but like a dream she is so full of imagination, her mind swims at a depth, most would drown in. She comes from a planet of inspiration, receptivity and illusion. She has an open mind. She is beautiful, but not like most, she is beautiful for her mind, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talks about something she loves.
'She wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as looks, she was beautiful, deep down to her soul.' She has the beauty of an everlasting sunrise. Full of light. She does not demand attention. She is subtle, soft but strong. She is a water sign, empathetic and compassionate. She is sensitive. Her mysterious soul draws people to her and that is part of her magic. It is what makes her so powerful. 'She was beautifully out of place. Something I believe she intended to be. Like the sun during the night.' It took an entire galaxy being woven into one to make her but that does not rule her.
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POWERS & ABILITIES
LEGACY OF THE CURE
"Quote."
– X
Though scarred by tragedy and captivity, Cove carries within her a breadth of knowledge and gifts unlike any other. The daughter of a mortal alchemist and a Fae botanist, she is the living union of fire and root, steel and bloom. Her youth was steeped in the craft of tinctures, metals, and herbs, leaving her as skilled in healing as she is in harm. Yet her greatest power is one she never chose: The alchemical cure her father forged and secreted into her veins, rendering her immune to the Darkfiends' soul-devouring bite. In her blood lies a secret the world has forgotten, and in her memory burns every fragment of knowledge needed to restore it.
She is no hardened warrior, yet her resilience is its own weapon – her scars a testament to survival, her mind a flawless archive of both wonder and horror. Where others might see fragility, Cove carries a quiet, enduring strength: The stubborn flame of one who refuses to be broken, and who believes, with fierce conviction, that her parents' work must one day save the realm.
|FAE PHYSIOLOGY|Though essentially humanoid in physical build, the Fae boast an unearthly grace and beauty that enhances their features. True Fae possess pointed ears and elongated canines, whereas Demi-Fae tend to inherit this ethereal beauty, but many have human ears and canines.
Being immortal, the Fae are stronger, faster, and more agile than any human, with heightened senses and swift healing.
|ALCHEMY AND APOTHECARY MASTERY|Raised in the shadow of her father's workshop and guided by her late mother's journals, Cove possesses a profound knowledge of alchemy. She is skilled in balancing metals, minerals, and volatile reagents, able to craft tinctures, tonics, and rare compounds with both precision and instinct. Her potions can soothe fevers, mend wounds, induce sleep – or, when required, poison silently.
|BOTANICAL LORE|From her mother, Cove inherited not only her Fae blood but also a deep familiarity with plants, both nurturing and lethal. She can identify roots and flowers even in half-light by scent or touch, and she knows which leaves can save a life and which can steal it away. The Starless Forest itself, with all its twisted flora, became her grim classroom during captivity.
|THE PANACEA|The greatest secret in Cove's blood is her father's alchemical triumph: The Panacea. She cannot be turned or hollowed by the Darkfiends. They may feed upon her body, but her soul lies forever beyond their reach. This immunity makes her a singular figure in the war against them – a living vessel of the cure, and perhaps its last key to survival.
|EIDETIC RECALL|Cove's mind is a vault of perfect clarity. Every line of her mother's botanical notes, every formula her father scrawled, every torn scrap of parchment destroyed in the Starless Forest lives intact within her memory. She can recall entire pages of text, the pattern of a plant's veins, or the exact color of a flame at different temperatures with uncanny precision. This gift is both blessing and curse: She remembers not only knowledge, but also every moment of her captivity in merciless detail.[img][/img]
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SIGNATURE
