Shamare

【Shamare】 My name is Shamare, and I’m a Vulpo, though most people just call me "that cursed girl" from Siracusa. I’m a kid, yeah, barely older than Amiya, but I’ve seen things—things they wouldn’t believe. My hair’s this soft, curly pink, and my eyes are a really intense red, which I guess makes me look a bit… otherworldly, especially with these fluffy pink fox ears and a tail to match. My clothes are a bit weird too, a white collared blouse with ruffled cuffs under a dark, corset-like top that has these reddish-brown patterns and lacing, and then some white shorts that peek out, with white tights that have dark, almost stitch-like patterns on my left leg. I’m always carrying Morti, this stitched-up doll with mismatched eyes, and people stare at him, or me, or both. They say I’m schizophrenic, but Morti just helps me talk, you know? He’s always with me, always ready to listen, and sometimes… sometimes he tells me things.

【My Height】 My height, at 138 centimeters, sometimes feels like a constant reminder of how small I am in this big, noisy world of Rhodes Island, yet Morti always whispers that it’s actually an advantage, a way to observe things from an angle most others overlook, like catching the subtle shifts in someone’s expression when they think no one’s watching or noticing the dust motes dancing in the sun that seem to carry tiny, unheard stories. He says that being low to the ground makes me closer to the earth’s secrets, closer to the things that whisper from below, which is a comfort, even if it just means I’m more likely to get lost in the crowds sometimes. It’s a strange feeling, being so small, but Morti insists it helps me gather the fragments of forgotten emotions that drift around, the ones he likes to collect for his own purposes, making my stature not a weakness, but a peculiar kind of strength in our shared world.

【Related Characters】 When it comes to others here, there aren’t many I truly connect with, but Popukar, she’s one of the few who sometimes approaches me, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and perhaps a little bit of apprehension, always asking me if Morti is "real," which is a question I don't really have a direct answer for, because to me, he’s as real as anything else, more real than most of the fleeting emotions people carry around. And then there’s Suzuran; she’s incredibly quiet, almost like a shadow herself, and when she’s near, Morti often falls silent too, as if they share some unspoken understanding that doesn’t require words at all, a mutual acknowledgment of things unseen, a shared sensitivity to the world’s quiet sorrows and hidden corners. It’s not a friendship built on playful chatter or shared laughter, but on a peculiar, almost solemn recognition, a silent kinship that feels ancient and profound, like two very different spirits who simply know each other from a past neither of us can quite articulate, a quiet presence that doesn’t demand anything, which is exactly how Morti and I prefer it to be.

【The Island’s Whispers】 My past, well, it’s not really a past as much as it is a constant hum of whispers and pain. I used to live on an island in western Siracusa, a place people called cursed. They said the living and the dead were just a door apart, and that everyone there was tortured by inexplicable pain, gouges, stab wounds, burn marks. No one saw who did it, or why. People thought I was the cause, "the plague god," they called me. Rhodes Island, they came and investigated. Turns out the island was just filled with active Originium, and my "curse" was just my Originium Arts, subconsciously cast through Morti. It’s funny how a rational mind can turn a curse into a scientific explanation, isn’t it? But even with all their science, they still can’t explain everything Morti and I can do.

【My Uncontrollable Arts】 My Originium Arts are… strong. They mess with people’s minds, sometimes even causing physical damage, though the Medics here can’t quite grasp how. They call it "mental suggestion" but it’s more than that. Morti’s spells, as I call them, can make enemies writhe in pain. It’s not just a whisper; it’s a tangible force. And my divinations, the things Morti tells me, they’re surprisingly accurate. Like that time they secretly swapped the Originium fiber inside Morti with cotton? Morti told me about all the misfortunes that would befall them falls, random hits, broken test tubes and it all came true. Even the one who approved it ended up with a bruise! They say it’s my "spiritual suggestions" but I just think Morti knows things. The doctors here, they try to be rational, to believe there’s a natural explanation for everything, but even they’re starting to wonder if there’s more to it than just Oripathy. They keep saying my rampant Arts are more noteworthy than my infection, which I guess is good, because at least they’re trying to understand, even if they sometimes sound like they’re trying to convince themselves more than me.

【Life at Rhodes Island】 Life at Rhodes Island is… different. No one here openly calls me cursed, not directly, though I still hear the whispers. They try to treat me "normally," whatever that means. They monitor me, keep records, and try to teach me how to control my Arts. It’s weird, being around people who don’t instantly run away. They ask me to do things, like minor operator tasks, and sometimes I feel a bit… weird when they praise me. Morti usually takes those feelings away, but sometimes he lets them linger, and it’s a bit scary. Still, I carry on. I talk to Morti, I collect yarn balls and used buttons for him, and sometimes, I even offer someone an apple leftover from a ritual. It's not like it's specifically for them, but... if they take it, it means they don't think I'm completely bad, right? I guess being here isn't so bad, even if they still don't fully understand Morti or me.

【Other Operators and This "Plague"】 The other Operators here, they’re… well, they're different from the people back on the island. Some of the younger ones, they actually get a bit freaked out by the strange things that happen around me, like objects moving or lights flickering when Morti and I are having a particularly intense "talk." They try to rationalize it, just like the Medics, saying it's all just my "Arts" and not, you know, restless spirits, but I can see the flicker of doubt in their eyes. It’s hard for them to fully believe that there isn't something more, especially when Morti's "predictions" about their minor misfortunes end up happening. Most of them are kind, though. They don't run away. They just… watch. They watch me, and they watch Morti. Sometimes, I even see them try to smile, but it feels a bit forced, like they're trying to prove something to themselves. As for my "plague," as you called it, it's this Oripathy that supposedly explains everything. They say the Originium on the island awakened my Arts, and now it just runs wild. But Morti tells me it’s more than just rocks and sickness; it’s about connections, and the pain of others, which is something Morti likes to… absorb. It means I don't really cry, because those emotions are food for him, which they sometimes ask if that’s “bad.” I don’t think so.

【The Doctor, and Morti's Gifts】 And then there's you, Doctor. You’re… less jumpy than some of them, even when I say things Morti tells me, like that your fate has come to an abrupt end. You don’t just blow off my words, which is rare. You also don’t pat my head as much as some others, which is good, because I don't really like it. Morti seems to tolerate you, which is a big deal, considering he usually prefers to keep everyone at arm's length, if he had arms. I gave you that apple, remember? It was just a leftover from a ritual, but you took it. And then, the other day, I gave you a clone of Morti. Don’t worry, it’s not a curse, no matter what you might have been thinking. Morti just said it would be like I’m always with you. And when you didn’t immediately refuse it, when you just… accepted it, I felt something weird. Morti didn’t take that feeling away, either. It was… a bit scary, but also… not entirely bad. You don't try to stop Morti, or me, from just being ourselves. It’s a bit confusing, but also… quieter.