Wow...I've never payed much attention to OC characters before, but after joining the OC contest (which you should participate in! Really! It's nice and fun and awesome -> )

I discovered that writing and reading them were really, really fun. What was originally supposed to only be a one-off thing now expanded to be something cool and exciting. Now, whenever I close my eyes, I imagine all kinds of new people, and what kind of histories they have. It's almost like as if they're in my mind, just waiting for me to write them down!

I don't know if that makes me sound crazy, but anyways...that's why I'm writing another one. Safel's going to be lonely if he doesn't get a playmate at Beacon, after all!

Good luck to all!

...and, oh yeah; her last name's pronounced Seer-wise.

The Birth

Furia burns. No matter what task she undertakes; whether in talk, training, relaxing or even sleep, she positively shines with an unbound intensity of passion that intimidates and inspires those around her in equal measure. She is the bonfire at the core of the house; she is the faint candlelight showing way in the darkness; she is the roiling flame that gives life and brings death. Her presence is like a flash of heat to the face, and whether the people she meets like her or not, they cannot help denying that when she is gone, the world seems like a colder, darker place.

And yet, it was not always so.

Furia Sirois was the firstborn child of Thomas and Yseult Sirois, a husband-wife pair who ran a modest printing press. Though not fabulously wealthy like the Schnees, they were far from poor and lived quite comfortably in a small house in one of the nicer parts of Vale. Though Yseult was by far more outgoing than her bookish husband and enjoyed regularly teasing Thomas that she lived only to spend his money, they were both gentle souls and enjoyed the quieter side of life, and most likely would have passed from history without incident if not for the birth of their first and only daughter.

The pregnancy was hard on both Yseult and the child. Terrified that he would lose the two most precious things in his life, Thomas prayed daily to whatever deity would listen to him and cut short his business hours in order to dote upon Yseult, leaving his best and most trusted friends to help him run his company. Despite his efforts however, Yseult continued to grow weaker...and weaker...and weaker.

The birth was every bit as bad as he had feared.

Never is his life had he imagined could a human throat make such sounds of anguish. Never had he seen so much blood in his life. Thomas, even by his own admission, was not a brave man. Whenever his wife even skimmed through the medical dramas she was so fond of watching, Thomas would turn his face away to stop the roiling nausea in his gut. But this time, Yseult had needed him, so throughout the twenty-four most intense hours in his life, he stayed by his wife and comforted her and wiped her face with his sleeve and endured her frenzied blows even as he fought down the roiling nausea within him. The finest and best doctors Thomas could afford swarmed around her, and sometimes he would be forced to pull back to allow them to work, but Thomas kept a constant mantra of prayer to whatever power was up there that his wife and child could not die.

Even when the doctors told him the chances.

Even as he saw the terrible measures they resorted to.

Even when Yseult, sobbing, almost mad with pain, begged Thomas to simply kill her and take the child;

Thomas prayed, and did not, for a single second, consider that which was inconceivable---


And against all odds, they survived.

When a doctor, exhausted and blood-spattered but finally triumphant, had told the terrified father the news, Thomas had, without hesitation, hugged him, blood and all, and planted a kiss directly on the struggling man's forehead (it would become an embarassing joke that Yseult would later tell all his friends about).

However, Yseult would never be the same after that.

Whereas before she was filled with an almost infinite energy and would frequently drag Thomas out into the city to enjoy the night life, now, she tired easily and relied heavily upon her husband. Whereas both Thomas and Yseult had dreamed of a large family of seven, with three boys and four girls, Yseult, due to the complications of birth, would never be able to conceive again. But both Thomas and Yseult did not care. For in their near death, in their struggle, all their pain and suffering, they had managed to deliver a perfect, beautiful baby girl.


Finally, after much months of argument, Thomas, with his horrible sense of humor, finally christened her Furia, after all the months of worry and fury she had caused them. Yseult had slapped him for it, and laughed.

And so their life began.

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