Ivory Swan Fremont the Elusive
The Time Alchemist
Curious Oblivious Honest Timid
xX - Black - Shard - Xx
The Time Alchemist
Curious Oblivious Honest Timid
xX - Black - Shard - Xx
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE R e c o r d L i s t
• Ivory Fremont: Ivory, Ms. Swan, Time, Lieutenant General Swan, the illusionist, Book-rat
• Her age is still shy of Eighteen
• Ivory is a human, ??? female.
• She is about Five-Seven weighing about ??? with a lean, yet muscular built and an hourglass figure
• Medium length, thick brownish black hair that shimmers blue in the light.
• Hazel blue-green eyes
• Heterosexual
• A traveling state alchemist with the status of first lieutenant.
• She says she is neutral in “politics” but chooses what is morally right to her.
• An alchemist that does not need circles, moderate runner, higher stamina,
high sense of hearing and sight, poor social skills, high reflexes, simple martial arts, gun handling, moderate knowledge of blades, violin expert
• The Night by Disturbed
• Her age is still shy of Eighteen
• Ivory is a human, ??? female.
• She is about Five-Seven weighing about ??? with a lean, yet muscular built and an hourglass figure
• Medium length, thick brownish black hair that shimmers blue in the light.
• Hazel blue-green eyes
• Heterosexual
• A traveling state alchemist with the status of first lieutenant.
• She says she is neutral in “politics” but chooses what is morally right to her.
• An alchemist that does not need circles, moderate runner, higher stamina,
high sense of hearing and sight, poor social skills, high reflexes, simple martial arts, gun handling, moderate knowledge of blades, violin expert
• The Night by Disturbed
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE A r t to the S c i e n c e
• “Do I actually control time, you say? No. No, I do not. My title ‘the Time Alchemist’ is - how do you say? - metaphorical. It can be compared to the illusion of time but not manipulate it. If I want to get snippy, I guess I can say that there might not ever be a person that can find away to control time, only simply measure it. Time of itself is manmade. Something labeled to ease the minds of man so they don’t wonder around aimlessly. Any-who, I’m getting off track here aren’t I? Sorry. Sorry, my bad. The art is really - if you know the nervous system, the brain’s anatomy, and so forth - quite simple. I can simply send an electric current of my own to distort your system to paralyze you from movement or the basic inability to move. I can also use a glove similar to Colonel Mustang’s to create a light to simulate the senses to give a temporary feel of being … well …. Drunk, I guess. The light blurs your vision, sense of judgment, sense of thought, etc and etc. Oh dear, you still seem a little puzzled. If so, do ask for a better explanation; I’ll try my best.”
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE P e r s o n a E x a m i n a t i o n
• “Some people say I’m crud, other’s say I’m polite, I say I’m complex. Complex describes me perfectly but I find it so completely puzzling, although I find myself completely understandable. Strange I know, but I can’t help it. I’m nice and sweet. I try to help people who need my help and would gladly risk lash out when my temper reaches its peak. Oh and my temper?! It’s so weird! I can be tolerate of others but then some days I completely short tempered if I have any at all. Oh dear, I’m everything! I think I’m Bipolar…”
• Ivory’s complex nature is noted to be a split persona that was a result of her guilt and doubt.
• Ivory’s complex nature is noted to be a split persona that was a result of her guilt and doubt.
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE M y t h , THE L e g e n d , THE T r u t h
• “‘No Rest for the wicked;’ a phrase I know so well. I have committed a sin; I tarnished the ideal of Death. Now I wonder when redemption will come for my soul.
“My history is simple and a bore. I was a simple daughter of a Brigadier general and a Lovely Noble lady and the youngest of pair of twins that consist of brothers. When War broke out in Ishbal, I was still content at home: learning piano, violin, language, and etiquette of proper nature. I was naïve and arrogant to the politics and seriousness of the war. My father always returned home even during the war, but was soon drafted into the war.
“My Sweet mother of graceful beauty and voice sung me hope-filled dreams and the day my father would return. Months past and letters came to comfort us and to let us know of his still existing breathe. They did their purpose. They comforted my mother and my elder siblings and gave me words of my father’s thoughts, the things that intrigued me even as a child. He was brilliant, so wise and optimist. He was my hero wither his hands were tainted in blood, conspiracy or not.
“Soon the letters stopped their run. Some thoughts of him being too busy, others say it was too dangerous to send messenger boys in and out, but an aching truth rung within me. The truth was that he was dead, cold and rotting on the ground as men ran over him, forgetting his rank for their own safety. He died but everyone was in denial.
“I continued my writing of letters that asked him rhetorical questions and tried to comfort him in heaven and burned some, sent them off with balloons, and other methods to reach the afterlife. My mother soon caught hold of my letters and was horrified at my conclusion of Father. She then proceeded with the stages of Death then pretended to comfort me for her own sake. I was seven through these times, seven and I was comforting my mother in my father’s death.
“She cried, cried silently, but cried. Her tears fell upon my thin periwinkle dress and with every drop; her sadness began to take me. It was so sad that tears fell from my eyes though no sounds escape me. My face was of a calm nature but within me, my heart fell into a dark void that I had not felt. This sadness thrilled me but that knowledge scared me. Sadness like this was pitied upon in my household so why must I express joy to such depression?
“Later that month, soldiers dress in their blue uniforms and lined with a black cloak arrived to my door-steps. My personal nurse answered the door since the butler and footmen were away with my mother. I came closer to hear the words that were exchanged. During such time, the men removed their hats and I knew I was right.
“A scream was heard behind the men. Mother was home. Footsteps rushed down the steps with voices calling for Mother that echoed behind them. Apparently, so were my brothers. I just watched from my spot as I watched. The sweet despair I had felt returned. The same mixture of emotions came too. I watched from my spot, watching as I shared the tears with the sky.
“The funeral came and went. My eldest brother drafted to war. My second eldest stayed with me to comfort me through my numbness. My eighth birthday came and went with a quick cake and presents. It was awkward. The house felt empty, the place so cold and uninviting, no one even faked a smile behind their black exterior.
“Months again came and went, though letters came in rare. It was not long after my second eldest brother, the one I care for most, birthday came my other brother was rushed to our manor. He had caught the Scarlet Fever and was dying. My mother ignored every warning and stayed with him, along with my favorite brother. I was held against my will to join but quick visits were arranged. He died, followed by my mother.
“My last brother was dying too. The joy of sadness failed me as I said with him as the last heir to the Fremont name. He told me his dreams and stories he wished to tell me though they were fiction. He said he wished to be an Alchemist: a great one at that. To be greatest to live and be remembered in the pages of time, but he said he can’t even feel his legs or his arms to even start. He died the next night. He died and I was alone.
“I followed my brother’s dream of science having none of my own. None but one that was born from his: Human Transmutation; illegal, yes, but probable. My plan was to resurrect my brother who would aid me in my path to regain our lost family. Small years past and I learned the formula of the illegal act.
“I was sixteen: still young in everyone’s eyes, but so eager to risk it all to chance. No one knew of my plans, my servants gone, no person or people to guide me to safety, all motivated by the feel of emptiness. I went on with my plans and was sucked into a blinding pure light of white.
“Miles went on in both direction and no one in sight until a voice called out. He spoke in riddles and rhythm and gave me his name. Then, like I never expected, a gate appeared, opened, and black arms from child-like bodies with blue eyes dragged me into, what many call, ‘the Truth.’
“At first I was lost. Then my emptiness filled and over flowed. Knowledge of past, present, and future events and findings filled my mind to the brink of insanity, but never reached such a bliss. I soon realize I was close to the truth of life and death but so far from it. I blinked and I returned to the pure white room. The figure was there … grinning at me in an inhuman way. I demanded more time, to fill in more blanks but he told me that I already saw too much as it was and a price was to be made: my leg which stood for my emotional need for support and pieces of my metaphorical mind, the very thing I was proud of.
“I stand before you as a miracle; no matter how I look at it, I should be dead: bleed to death with the moments of madness. But I regret everything to the hour of my birth. I was tented by Roy Mustang and entered under his guidance. I’ve lost touch with him, but I’m still thankful and wish him the best in his dream.”
“My history is simple and a bore. I was a simple daughter of a Brigadier general and a Lovely Noble lady and the youngest of pair of twins that consist of brothers. When War broke out in Ishbal, I was still content at home: learning piano, violin, language, and etiquette of proper nature. I was naïve and arrogant to the politics and seriousness of the war. My father always returned home even during the war, but was soon drafted into the war.
“My Sweet mother of graceful beauty and voice sung me hope-filled dreams and the day my father would return. Months past and letters came to comfort us and to let us know of his still existing breathe. They did their purpose. They comforted my mother and my elder siblings and gave me words of my father’s thoughts, the things that intrigued me even as a child. He was brilliant, so wise and optimist. He was my hero wither his hands were tainted in blood, conspiracy or not.
“Soon the letters stopped their run. Some thoughts of him being too busy, others say it was too dangerous to send messenger boys in and out, but an aching truth rung within me. The truth was that he was dead, cold and rotting on the ground as men ran over him, forgetting his rank for their own safety. He died but everyone was in denial.
“I continued my writing of letters that asked him rhetorical questions and tried to comfort him in heaven and burned some, sent them off with balloons, and other methods to reach the afterlife. My mother soon caught hold of my letters and was horrified at my conclusion of Father. She then proceeded with the stages of Death then pretended to comfort me for her own sake. I was seven through these times, seven and I was comforting my mother in my father’s death.
“She cried, cried silently, but cried. Her tears fell upon my thin periwinkle dress and with every drop; her sadness began to take me. It was so sad that tears fell from my eyes though no sounds escape me. My face was of a calm nature but within me, my heart fell into a dark void that I had not felt. This sadness thrilled me but that knowledge scared me. Sadness like this was pitied upon in my household so why must I express joy to such depression?
“Later that month, soldiers dress in their blue uniforms and lined with a black cloak arrived to my door-steps. My personal nurse answered the door since the butler and footmen were away with my mother. I came closer to hear the words that were exchanged. During such time, the men removed their hats and I knew I was right.
“A scream was heard behind the men. Mother was home. Footsteps rushed down the steps with voices calling for Mother that echoed behind them. Apparently, so were my brothers. I just watched from my spot as I watched. The sweet despair I had felt returned. The same mixture of emotions came too. I watched from my spot, watching as I shared the tears with the sky.
“The funeral came and went. My eldest brother drafted to war. My second eldest stayed with me to comfort me through my numbness. My eighth birthday came and went with a quick cake and presents. It was awkward. The house felt empty, the place so cold and uninviting, no one even faked a smile behind their black exterior.
“Months again came and went, though letters came in rare. It was not long after my second eldest brother, the one I care for most, birthday came my other brother was rushed to our manor. He had caught the Scarlet Fever and was dying. My mother ignored every warning and stayed with him, along with my favorite brother. I was held against my will to join but quick visits were arranged. He died, followed by my mother.
“My last brother was dying too. The joy of sadness failed me as I said with him as the last heir to the Fremont name. He told me his dreams and stories he wished to tell me though they were fiction. He said he wished to be an Alchemist: a great one at that. To be greatest to live and be remembered in the pages of time, but he said he can’t even feel his legs or his arms to even start. He died the next night. He died and I was alone.
“I followed my brother’s dream of science having none of my own. None but one that was born from his: Human Transmutation; illegal, yes, but probable. My plan was to resurrect my brother who would aid me in my path to regain our lost family. Small years past and I learned the formula of the illegal act.
“I was sixteen: still young in everyone’s eyes, but so eager to risk it all to chance. No one knew of my plans, my servants gone, no person or people to guide me to safety, all motivated by the feel of emptiness. I went on with my plans and was sucked into a blinding pure light of white.
“Miles went on in both direction and no one in sight until a voice called out. He spoke in riddles and rhythm and gave me his name. Then, like I never expected, a gate appeared, opened, and black arms from child-like bodies with blue eyes dragged me into, what many call, ‘the Truth.’
“At first I was lost. Then my emptiness filled and over flowed. Knowledge of past, present, and future events and findings filled my mind to the brink of insanity, but never reached such a bliss. I soon realize I was close to the truth of life and death but so far from it. I blinked and I returned to the pure white room. The figure was there … grinning at me in an inhuman way. I demanded more time, to fill in more blanks but he told me that I already saw too much as it was and a price was to be made: my leg which stood for my emotional need for support and pieces of my metaphorical mind, the very thing I was proud of.
“I stand before you as a miracle; no matter how I look at it, I should be dead: bleed to death with the moments of madness. But I regret everything to the hour of my birth. I was tented by Roy Mustang and entered under his guidance. I’ve lost touch with him, but I’m still thankful and wish him the best in his dream.”
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE W o n d e r s
✔ Animals (mostly felines); nature; night: stars, coolness, the moon (new and moon are the favorable)
✔ Power: not to feel weak and helpless
✔ Quietness
✔ A good book; writing
✔ Having a friend (if in the mood)
✔ Power: not to feel weak and helpless
✔ Quietness
✔ A good book; writing
✔ Having a friend (if in the mood)
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE H o r r o r s
✖ The Homunculi and anything that seems too “scary”
✖ Being controlled and being betrayed
✖ Losing everything she held dearly again
✖ Being controlled and being betrayed
✖ Losing everything she held dearly again
»»»xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxTHE P i l o t to the T e r m i n o l o g y
• Ivory stopped to smell the flowers. The building in which she manage was relatively empty but still well enough to appreciate.
She looked out the window in which was parallel to her to see the streams of rain run down it clear complexion.
She stared at herself, drifting off to the ideal that that was not completely her.
A voice ran through her mind, the declared it a thought.
She felt crazy that day but remained silent though the urge to murmur to herself was compelling. Ivory sunk back to her background and left again unnoticed by human eyes.
She looked out the window in which was parallel to her to see the streams of rain run down it clear complexion.
She stared at herself, drifting off to the ideal that that was not completely her.
A voice ran through her mind, the declared it a thought.
She felt crazy that day but remained silent though the urge to murmur to herself was compelling. Ivory sunk back to her background and left again unnoticed by human eyes.
