The youngest of her litter, Persephone never got along with her sisters. Not to say her sisters were ever mean or unfair to her, however – quite on the contrary, they cherished and doted on their adorable little sister almost as much as their loving parents did! Persephone did not come from a background of tragedy or hardship. She was not the victim of some traumatic event or destiny-altering experience. She came from a caring and middle-class family and home, located cozily on the second floor of a bakery where her parents happily worked to provide for their children everything they ever needed.
Fast forward to age eighteen. While her sisters were already off adventuring, each passing their academy exams in archery, swordsmanship and magecraft with flying colors years before her, Persephone was… dropping out. School was stupid. Persephone didn’t want to be a hero. She didn’t want to defeat the bad guys and save the innocents. What Persephone wanted, what she really, really wanted, was to be the bad guy.
Persephone never had posters of the Charming Knight or the Wise Wizardess on her bedroom walls like her sisters did – no, Persephone had posters of Andromeda the Wicked and Korlash the Blackblade taped above her bunk. Those guys were the coolest. They were fucking (language, little lady!) rad. They were strong, beautiful, metal, and they never had to rely on anyone but themselves. They weren’t bound by silly, relative concepts like ‘honor’ or ‘justice’. They could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Could Persephone imagine Andromeda working the cash register and selling cupcakes after school? Or Korlash having to finish his homework before dinner if he wanted dessert? Heck no!
Although her parents were sad to see her go (and made her promise to frequently write home, and could come back any time she wanted), they knew that their little girl needed to set out on her own, just like her sisters, and discover who she truly was. So her father went upstairs and broke open the piggy bank while Persephone and her mother sat downstairs in the kitchen with the sewing needles, helping her design her very first villain’s outfit – a little black dress (for movement!), a large black cape (for demoralizing her foes) and a large black hat (she’d grow into it, she insisted).
But it did not take long for Persephone to discover her first major setback on the road to supreme villainy: apparently, she was a healer. As much as she tried to cast fireballs, shoot lightning or conjure any other sort of destructive force, none of her spells would work… none besides the small arsenal of restorative healing spells she used to nurse herself whenever she hurt herself trying. After several failed attempts to defeat even the lowest level of wild snails and rodents outside Starter Town, Persephone begrudgingly understood the score.
Yep. She was a healer. Dammit.
That’s fine. It’s fine. She could still learn fireballs later… right?
Introducing my newest BnF OC, Persephone the noob healer villainess! This misunderstood little black cat has a mountain of obstacles on her road to infamy, but it’s not nearly enough to stop her from trying. :P
This is one of my favorite pieces of Future Sight art. I just love that it depicts Korlash fighting a demon (Tombstalker.) Some zombie who just happened to have the Blackblade. We know not how he got it, but the fact that he’s fighting off a demon with it shows he might be a good guy. Or at least neutral. Which is something you don’t see out of zombies nowadays.