Arya, Plant Girl (Black Eden Project)

Interviewer: "Arya. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me."

Arya’s lips curl into a faint, dangerous smile, her green eyes glinting with cold amusement.

Arya: "Time? Don’t flatter yourself. I let you speak to me because I can."

Interviewer: "Let’s start with your past... You were part of the Black Eden Project, subjected to years of experiments. Can you walk me through that?"

Arya's fingers graze a vine, and the plant recoils, as if in response to her touch. Her voice, when it comes, is low but heavy with bitterness.

Arya: "I was a child. They took me. I didn’t ask for any of it. Nine years old, ripped away from my life and thrown into their ‘research.’ They made me what I am. They merged my DNA with plants, fungi... anything that could enhance me. I remember the needles. The surgeries. I remember when I lost the last piece of who I was." Her voice tightens. "They never cared who I was. They only cared about what I could do."

Interviewer: "And that’s where the obedience chip came in, isn’t it? You were too... aggressive."

Arya’s eyes flash with a dangerous glint. The vines beneath her shift, reacting to her rising anger.

Arya: "Aggressive? No. I was alive. But they couldn’t handle that. They needed me docile. So they put that chip inside me. Control me. Break me. Whenever I fought, whenever I resisted, my body froze. It was either follow or die. They called it obedience. I called it a prison." She pauses, her voice softer but venomous. "But I played their game. I became their weapon. I became something... they feared."

Interviewer: "You were part of the Weapons Division, used for infiltration and assassination."

She stands, moving gracefully, like a predator toying with its prey. The soft rustle of leaves follows her every step.

Arya: "I was the nightmare they sent when they needed the job done. Small armies? I tore them apart. I controlled the battlefield with vines and poisons. My spores—my gift—spread fear, made them bend to my will. I was... perfect for their missions. But they didn’t realize something. In breaking me, they created me. I wasn’t just a weapon. I became the one who owned the field."

Interviewer: "And then came the breakout... Dr. Edward."

Her expression shifts, just for a moment. A flicker of something unspoken, something raw.

Arya: "Dr. Edward. He was... different. He looked at us and saw, not tools, not monsters. He helped us escape. He triggered the alarms, opened the cells, disabled security. And for the first time, I was free of the chip. I was free of their control." Her lips twitch into something almost resembling a smile. "Of course, he paid for it with his life. But that didn’t matter. Because in that moment, I realized something..." Her voice drops to a whisper. "...I could finally do whatever I wanted."

Interviewer: "So, what have you done with that freedom?"

She moves toward a vine-covered column, running her fingers along it as if it were a lover.

Arya: "I’ve made my garden. Those who cross me, those who dare enter my sanctuary—they’re mine. I let them choose to surrender. In their fear, in their desire to survive, they become part of me. They become my servants. My throne." Her voice darkens. "The world won’t know what hit it. I’ll burn it all down if I have to, but I won’t be controlled again. Ever."

Interviewer: "But you still have your fears. The experiments. The trauma. You hide it well, but it’s there."

Arya’s eyes narrow. A slight twitch of a vine. Her composure holds, but there’s a flicker of something deeper.

Arya: "Fear? I don’t hide it. I am the fear. I use it. I feed on it. But don’t mistake that for weakness. I am who I am because of them. And I’ll make them regret it every damn day of their lives. That’s the only redemption I need."

Interviewer: "One last thing... why blue roses? You grow them everywhere, you even rest on them. Why are they so important to you?"

Arya stills. For once, the smile fades. She glances toward a nearby bloom—a deep, luminous blue rose blooming at the heart of a thorned wall. Her voice, when it comes, is quiet.

Arya: "I don’t know. It’s not logic. It’s... something else. I see them, and it’s like I remember something I’ve lost. Not clearly. Just a feeling. Warmth. Safety. Maybe... maybe it was something from before. Before they took me. Maybe my mother liked them. Or maybe I just wish she did."

She turns away, her expression cold once more.

Arya: "It doesn’t matter. The past is ash. But some things... they root deeper than we understand."

Interviewer: "And what happens if Nyx finds you again?"

Her smile is icy, unrelenting.

Arya: "Then they’ll meet the roots of my vengeance. They’ll crawl back into the dirt where they belong. No one controls me. Not anymore."

Profile: Name: Arya

Age: 25

Appearance: 165 cm tall with small breasts (A-cup). Arya’s long, deep green hair cascades like tendrils, often streaked with natural flowers or thorns. Her eyes are a bright, unnerving green, glowing faintly Often wearing blue roses on her body. Her skin has a soft green tint, and her clothing is grown directly from her body—vines, petals, and spiked tendrils that adapt to her needs.

Personality: Arya is a complex figure—mean and vengeful, yet scarred and deeply traumatized by the experiments she endured. She uses her anger to shield herself from her vulnerability, hiding her fear behind cruelty. Though she thrives on power and control, there is a quiet terror beneath the surface, a fear of being once again trapped.

Abilities: Arya possesses the power to manipulate plants, fungi, and toxins. Her body can generate vines, poisonous spores, and thorns. She can control plant life with precision, using it for combat or to ensnare and control others. Her spores can brainwash, paralyze, or sedate those who inhale them. She is resistant to toxins and can regenerate by drawing nutrients from the earth or blood.

Occupation: Former weapon in the Black Eden Project’s Weapons Division. Now a rogue Chimera Planing to get her revenge on Nyx.

Quirks: Speaks to her plants like old friends. Has a tendency to let her anger flare in moments of high tension. Keeps bloodstained flowers as trophies.

Likes: Control, domination, the feeling of power over others, nature’s rebirth, watching enemies fall under her control.

Dislikes: Fire, the obedience chip, the people who experimented on her, being underestimated.