Malak Ismail

Malak Ismail

33

Female.

Half Irish, Half Egyptian

Malak Ismail, by all means, is not your average woman. Though indeed, her father left behind his keepsake, both in name and faith. The young woman inherited the face of Irish mother. Standing high at six feet (185 cm), Malak towers most of her kin with a sturdy Nordic build very known for withstanding punishment. Her avatar is adorned by a golden crown, the blonde hair reaches the end of her waist. In unison, her well drawn eyebrow shares the same color while most unfortunately her windows to life are shattered and broken. Blindness left her eyes void, with milk- whiteness. The avatar itself however is not perfect for there is this everlasting scar across the nose bridge and eyelids.

However, even with all of these shortcomings, her nose stands prideful and true. With a seamless and comfortable face, without any kind of makeup, the skin itself is that of ivory while the very lips marked with a fresh wet like shy red always hiding the while aligned bright pearls that are her teeth.

Always dressed for some unknown reason for those who would behold her visage, in a garment akin to those who tread the path of nun-hood. Beneath her veil, some of her golden vines lies bare as Malak's ears are kept hidden. Only the last detail, her black leather knee long boots and white gloves that reaches her elbows.

Named after the queen of the Munster fairies, This skill focuses on a very quick flurry of slashes meant to exhaust her opponent both in stamina and concentration, all for the sole purpose of creating an opening to catch her adversary out of guard.

To realize the dream, this technique is meant as a follow-up to Aine. The first strike is the stage upon which the special is based on. It involves striking downward from above and then instantly striking again in an upward motion from below. The strike's second phase could be from below toward the rear and then upward at an angle, like an eagle climbing again after swooping down on its prey.

The angel is pure like white ice, a perfectionist in her own right and a very caring person. Despite her age which considered older than most of the sword online populace, Malak always looks forward for friendship and would show her affection through total loyality. However poetically versed to show her motions to the extreme. Her strengths could be the weaknesses once flipping up the coin. Purity could mean under unusual circumstances Taint, perfectionism would translate while seeking the endeavors to mend the world as recklessness. Over-protective, the angel would be over those whom she cherishes. Last but not least, though truly loyal sometimes Malak would betray other people expectations even though her heart always harbors good intentions and indeed the road to hell is well paved with them

The angel suffers amnesia, though the memories would be still there, a treasure hidden deep within the labyrinth of her mid. All what she remembers is her father grip over her petit hand leading her somewhere.

Those were the orphanage days, as the first she remembered her broken body lying over one of the hospital beds. To her dismay, she discovered after her fated awakening that her eyes have lost their life. Still, those days she lived in the orphanage were brief yet she was treated well. But after a year or two, her distant relatives who were unaware of her existence came to pick her up. Her family was relatively rich and then she was granted more comfort living her life though limited by the boundaries of of her sight.

That didn't stop her from exploring the small world she was living in. Lonely and without real friends, books were her refuge using braille code to read. Malak didn't have any preferences when it came to reading however mostly she was infatuated by Irish mythologies. Given proper special education, Malak survived her uneventful school days.

Though how many times she asked about parents fate, none of her relatives gave her proper answer. Yet, it was very peculiar fact that her name was different, unlike how it went for her kin..her name was Malak Ismail.

Deciding upon specializing in literature, it was the gateway to a new world. Unlike the gloomy days of her school, she was able to make some friends whom Malak yearned to see but alas, it never happened. Then the days had passed and the lady graduated. Blindness was great teacher but a terrible companion. Her beautiful mind sang in harmony, weaving the exotic fabrics, the very substance her old stories were woven from. With a pen name, Malak was prized by awards. However her soul was tormented more, her feelings rattled in it's cage, wishing that her eyes would gain there life again. Then someday, Malak heard about the VMMORPG. Such technology existed, Truly a God send. The angel thought to herself and so she pre-ordered herself a game and one of those who were deemed later unlucky to play it too early.

Though before she would hear his ultimate statement, for a few hours like a small lost child, Malak wondered the streets doing nothing but to direct her empty gaze fixing them on other avatars in utter disbelief, it was so real, so amazing and very mind blowing.

Until the fated time, where the world was announced to be their huge prison. That didn't break her spirit, since she was living in similar world all her life bound by the shortcoming of her eyes but what really left her on the ground bursting in tears bron from her lifeless orbs was that moment, the angel saw her true self through the mirror.

And so it begins..