--Statistics--
| Speed | ***** |
| Strength | **** |
| Technique | **** |
| Vitality | ****** |
| Endurance | ****** |
Name Pronounced: Ooo-ra-new-sue
Age: 18
Birthday: January 21
Height: 6’
Weight: 120 lb
Nationality: American (for once a good American representative and not some stereotype big muscle man or cow person)
What?: Anthro-Ocelot
Pocket Monster Representative: Enduring Rapidash
Instrument: Violin
Weapon: Heavy, long, double-edged, two-handed sword called the “Dernier Vancour” (Duke’s sword), and a bow
Favorite Color: Bluish-Purple
Likes: Keeping busy; learning new things; fighting; poetry; Catboy
Hates: Togepi Sabrina; Bashou; Buson; and those that had at one time tormented Catboy
Dreads Above All: The thought of dying alone, forgotten, even hated
Most Valuable: Her sword, her reminder of Duke
Friends: Catboy, Serene, Ruki, Musashi, Tago, Puella, Faust, Karen, Kojirou, Satoshi, Misio
General Outlook: There is something greater than what we can see and feel; there is an absolute law of right and wrong, and I must follow if I can
Dreams: “I think, I wish I could not so much be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand; and not necessarily be loved, but to love others.”
Phobia: Small, tight spaces
Favorite Food: Deep-dish pizza
Nitpicky Nitpicks:
—Causal Outfit: Warm,
olive-green tube shirt, matching mini-skirt, light green tights, combat
boots, and a black, leather trenchcoat; black choker. (See
here)
—Battle Outfit: Black, formfitting bodysuit with heels, open back, and long gloves
Appearance: Now, is usually more serious with a solemn contentment and quiet serenity in her young, flawless face (before her eyes would be full of pain and distant sorrow--always sad); narrow, deep crimson eyes; long, wavy golden hair, usually has bangs on each side of the face, with the rest held in place by an Asian barrette/hair clip (you know, the stick thing)
Had Not the Things that Happened Happened: Ura would have become a well-renowned biologist, working with experts and being an expert herself; responsible for cracking the code of dark sprite DNA and genetic cellular structure and even inventing a device that could identify a dark sprite and warn people to avoid such. Essentially, her possible future if she had not been kidnapped seemed brighter and better than most of the other characters.
~~~
History: It is better to never have at all, then to have and to lose. Uranusu was born into a normal, loving family. They weren’t perfect—Steve and Julia argued, Mom sometimes burned the food, Dad could have been more involved at times, and Mew did have accidents on the carpet—no family is perfect. But they loved each other. Her parents taught her to be kind, respectful, practical, and responsible. Albeit, they may have shielded her from getting hurt or making mistakes; therefore, when something happened that they had no control over, she hardly knew what to do with herself.
That time came on the day she had completed second grade. Her parents had stayed home to prepare a surprise for her, and a friendly neighbor went to school to pick her up and walk her home. Waving the lady goodbye and entering the house, Uranusu found it desolate, only Mew came running to her. Searching the house, all she came up with was a glowing, golden bow with a nice ribbon and her name on it. She knew not where it came from, nor how it got there, but as soon as she picked it up, she felt immense power surge through her. She knew not that it was the Sacred Bow of Suzaku. But, nonetheless, she took it under her possession (and it later served her well).
She searched for her family in vain and was at the end captured by a most displeasing individual with a twisted mind (that Uranusu would come to know quite soon enough). She was locked away in the depths of a dungeon where she was kept with a really tough fire sprite whom she came to admire dearly as an elder sister.
Everyday, little Uranusu was mercilessly put through terrible experiments (one of which resulted in her growing wings, which she didn’t find all bad) or made her to work the whole day—cleaning, moving things about, and pampering her lazy captor. She was made to train and fight at nights and got minimum hours of rest. Even then she could hardly sleep.
She and the other girl would often tell each other of their day and occasionally plan an escape. Ura (for that is what the fire sprite called her) often wished the sprite was a better listener, that she would just sit quiet and hear her out. She often interrupted, believing she knew what Ura was going to say, and gave her own opinion of the matter. Ura knew she meant well. Still from this she learned that it was easier just to keep her pain to herself and tell not a soul.
As they became older, the fire sprite was sent away without Ura knowing where and greatly missing her. Not a day went by but she did not think about her and worry over her safety. She also began to miss her family anew.
It was at this time that her captor began to show an even darker side to her nature. She abused the young teenage girl and had her abused by others. Living in constant defilement, Ura learned to hate. A deep, seething malignancy of hatred that combined with her loneliness and her feeling of utter helplessness and frustration. A hate for her captor, a hate for sick-minded, cruel, perverted men, and even a hate for herself. They treated her as worthless; she began to believe she was worthless.
It was in the depths of despair that she met her love. Seeing her evil captor had sold her to him, she at first believed him to be the same as all the others, but she almost immediately found he was not. He was unlike anyone she had ever known since she was kidnapped from home. He cared about her. Though she never liked to admit needing a man’s help, he looked after her, helped her, protected her when she could not. He was a good listener and taught her to enjoy the simple things in life: a patch of blue sky, a dew-wet flower, the sweetness of a peach, the sunset’s cricket song… He did kind little things for her and she knew he loved her—not lust—but a steadfast, selfless love. And he taught her to love again.
He also gave her fighting tips for self-defense. And he taught her that “heroism consists of hanging on one minute longer” and that bravery was not the absence of fear but acting in spite of that fear.
It was around this time that Ura rescued a girl from a burning building. A sweet innocent girl, naught but a few months younger than her, though one would never tell by her appearance because she had the cutest face and the biggest eyes. She stayed with Ura who kept her hidden from her captor as long as possible, lest she should desire to torment that girl as well. Ura and her love, the wealthy, young knight, arranged to support the girl to go to school, and that was that. Though Ura remained a very dear friend to her, she could not often see her for fear that her captor might know of it.
As she turned seventeen, she was again reunited with the fire sprite, and shortly after she met Faust, Tago, and Catboy, the three of which she grew fond of immediately.
Her world collapsed when her love was killed by her captor; a cruel trick to cause Ura endless sorrow. Sorrow she kept to herself and told no one about. She sat in silence, staring into space while others merrily went on oblivious to what she was feeling—all oblivious but Catboy.
From then she suffered more, as she lost Catboy to her younger friend whom she saved from the fire. Indeed, she felt once again worthless; no one needed her, her only use was to be a human shield and save someone who wouldn’t even care to thank her afterwards. And, unwilling to put Catboy’s life in danger, she submitted herself to a new master. That week was the longest and the worst week of her life; worse than when she was kidnapped, worse than all her childhood under her captor put together, even worse than losing Duke.
But thankfully her life would not always be misery. Just after she got out of the hospital (after she had been taken away from her new master), she heard a message of truth: one that made so great an impression upon her. When she had just been sad, depressed, and despised her life, this great change took place in her and she was not sure what at first but then she knew. She heard the wonderful story of truth and it delivered her from her resentment. She’s still not perfect, but now she is considerate, kind—more so than before, I mean. She’s more understanding and does not seek revenge against those that have wronged her. She has been set free from her hate and from the darkness that had been growing within her. It doesn’t mean that she won’t encounter difficulties, but that she will have the strength to be victor over them.
She used to live to fight as the fire sprite does—it helped her vent, take out her frustration—but now it does not consume her life, but becomes a secondary activity in her other pursuits. She has learned to be content. She is no longer interested in finding love, though it is a nice side quest.
She is most unlike her friend the fire sprite for she loves to study and learn. She only wishes she could have gone to highschool and college and gotten a complete education. She especially loves literature and biology.
She wishes to be loyal to her friends and loyal to that absolute rule of good. She does still have stabs of jealousy or bitterness or anger, but she works at pruning those things. All in all she is a most sweet girl, a friend you can depend on. A friend you can tell all your worries to and she will listen to you and keep confidence with you.
Though she sometimes feels lonely, and cries at times of great distress, she is never crushed nor does she give up. She never gives up.
She could have been a very tragic tale, but now she presses on to heights unknown.
Her best friend is Catboy, indeed,
she loves him with all her heart, beyond the love of a friend. But knowing
the feeling is not mutual, she keeps her feelings within herself and
tells no one of it. She rather express her admiration for him by remaining
his friend and freeing the girl he loves and her rival.
No one was with me as I made the long walk from the hospital to the Cacnea Mecha, but that was okay. I was used to being alone. Besides, I needed to think, collect, and calm myself. I had to find Catboy and the others and explain why I disappeared—or was forcefully taken away from them. I just hoped they would understand and not hate me.
Oh, but it was a lost cause. They would hate me. I was cursed.
I paused, looking up at the blue sky, feeling my back start to throb in pain again and my head swirl with dizziness. Everyone around me was enjoying Kayla’s Park, playing, laughing; I suffered alone.
As I once more was contemplating suicide, suddenly I heard the sweetest sound and had to stop again to listen to it. A slow, deep, melancholy tune played by a flute. I did so love flutes and the music seemed to suit my mood perfectly. Presently as I followed it to its source it took a different more hopeful note at its end, and presently I saw the player. Sitting upon a bench was a cute looking young girl, chestnut colored hair blowing in the gentle breeze as she tilted her head from side to side with the music, eyes closed serenely. I became so intent upon the music I failed to notice how familiar the girl was.
As if knowing I was there, the girl stopped and opened her huge, deep blue eyes turning them to me, “It sounds kinda somber doesn’t it?”
“It’s a beautiful melody.” Said I, still in a trance and not knowing I had spoken.
“Oh, but that’s just the melody, you hafta hear the words to know how beautiful it really is. Lemme sing it to you.” The friendly girl stood from the bench and once again closed her eyes: “What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul? What wondrous love is this, O my soul?” She sang softly at first, then majestically, “What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss, to bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul; to bear the dreadful curse for my soul…” And she sang on, true peace and joy radiating from her.
And I didn’t just hear her, I listened.
“Oh!” I exclaimed as the girl came to a stop, desperately rising to my feet, “I wish you would sing more. I want to learn more of this Lord you spoke of. I-I want to be as happy as you are.”
“Well.” The girl looked thoughtful, “I do have to go now, but here.” She handed me a book she had with her, “Take this and read it, and read it, and read it. It will tell you everything. And I’ll remember to pray for you every night. What’s your name?”
“Ura. And yours?”
“I’m Julia.”
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