Yesukai

An Artist

• From The Get Go:

  • Name: Yesukai
  • Gender: Female
  • Composure: Slouched, but straight
  • Complexion: White, clear, thoughtful
  • Height: A little on the short side
  • Build: Slim
  • Hair: Blonde
  • Eyes: Purple
  • Alignment: Lawful Good
  • Injuries: None
  • Factions: None
  • Time Setting: Early to Mid 1800s

• How Will I Roleplay?

  Always	Sometimes	Maybe	Never
  Always 3-4 Sentences per post	Sometimes Casual Roleplay Romance Roleplay Friendly Roleplay T2	Maybe Erotic Roleplay T1 Slice Of Life	Never Using these: **

• Basic Visual Description

  Yesukai is a girl who lacks in most departments. For an example, on her toes she can barely reach that high cabinet. Her arms are quite thin and weak looking, and her body is small and breakable. Another quite noticeable thing that she does not excell in is, embarrassingly, breast size. One could have even mistaken her for a very fruity guy, if she didn't pronounce her sexuality so much in her dressing.
  
  Yesukai has a very relaxed tone of sitting, standing, leaning and laying. Never will she stand up straight of her own accord, as she thinks it to be a waste of energy. Her hair streaks with blonde, cleverly braided in to two long tails. In normal circumstances, she would wear a clear white vest with a pin of a standing horse with wings and its hooves pointed outwards, holding two items. These two items are an elaborate key and a rose that intertwines with itself. With the vest, she wears a striped longsleeve shirt that spans her arms and chest. On her head lay a red beret that flaunters the same emblem that the vest does. Unruly shorts wave themselves right where the bottom of the vest leaves off. These shorts, baggy in nature, are coloured in royal purple. Her legs are covered by beige coloured socks that ride up to her thighs. At her feet lay lazily tied black boots, that seem to have been worn for over a couple of years. And to finish off her outfit, a black ribbon is tied around her shirt collar neatly.

• Basic Personality Description

  Yesukai has the mentality of a cat in a way. "If it does not please me in any way, but takes energy, why should I do it?" This would explain her weakness, as doing physical labour is annoying and takes quite a bit of energy. She has an attitude towards people that may seem a bit... off. But, she can usually pull herslef together if she really likes the person. Art pleases her in a way like no other. And so, she lives life almost always daydreaming up a story or painting. One of her ongoing stories is of a mysterious Ronin from an archipelago far to the east that stalks a woman in the night, planning to kill her. But, as he learns more about his future victim, he quickly falls in love.
  
  Yes, Yesukai has a weird attraction to Japan, as it is foreign to her. She is drawn towards foreign things.

• Yesukai's Story

  Yesukai was born on a hot summer night, in the middle of July, in the year 1823. Her parents, loving ones, nurtured her into her toddler years. She had made no friends in the town of Choibalsan, a new settlement, recently made by her parents and other travellers. But what she didn't have in friends she had in creativity. She had drew almost everywhere in the city, almost like a vandal, but with beautiful drawings that portrayed life specific to that town. Like strong guards on horseback chasing off criminals, and poor men playing a song around a campfire. These were no children's drawings; they could make any grown adult stop and think. And one day, the first day that she can truly remember, her fifth birthday, a man came to town. His name was Aaskad. An eccentric man who carried two men in suits with him as bodyguards in a way. They acted as if on a business trip, but in truth they were there for Yesukai.
  
  This was the day of Yesukai's kidnapping. She was easily taken, as on her birthday she asked to be alone, so she could draw more. Her parents were devastated. Their only child, taken by what they thought to be early suicide. Yesukai's parents always thought that she was terminally sad, by how she behaved at the time. Always wanting to be alone was her own undoing, as now she lived the life of an artist's apprentice. Yesukai had a small liking for the place, as she could paint with fine colours and use perfect canvases. But, she wasn't a heartless child. Every night, she would cry herself to sleep, for she missed her parents. This went on for three years, until she grew eight. She had finally learned to keep her tears on the inside, and appreciate the things that she has.
  
  She lived in teaching for eight more years, never leaving the manor of which she painted in. Two months after her sixteenth birthday, the Tsar of Russia, Alexander the Second, visited the manor, asking for a piece of art to astonish him. Aaskad recommended Yesukai to be his artist. When he laid eyes on her, he immediately accepted. He had no thought for art at that time. What actually ran through his mind was much more dirty and sinister. To put it simply, Yesukai was raped in the mid of night that night. She never spoke a word about it to anybody in their life. The Tsar simply left the manor the next day, his excuse being that he had a war to fight. Aaskad was saddened by this, as he had no way to prove his student's excellence.
  
  The next years, Aaskad noticed Yesukai's change in art. Her art had corrupted itself to show pictures of hatred, sorrow, and wrath. They were the type of paintings that could twist your heart and wrench it out, but you would have no reason why. Aaskad naturally wanted to know what the deal was, so he began to watch Yesukai much more closely. This was his undoing, as Yesukai had become so filled with anger that she took it all out on Aaskad as he watched over her shoulder at a canvas.
  
  She became a murderer at that time, splicing his blood onto her artwork with a knife especially made for cutting canvas, which is tougher than skin. Yesukai blamed everything that went wrong in her life on him, breaking down mentally in that room. She was never caught, as that was the night she left the manor. She walked for a month, going back to her town, to find her old home gone and a new one in its place. She knew then, that she would have to check the graveyard to find her parents.
  
  On their graves, she drew a disfunctional symbol of love, and left. She did not know where she would go, but she knew that east was the direction. Away from Mongolia, away from Russia, away from her past life.