Ancestry/Heritage: Yaoguai Born of an item

Background: Servant

Class: Oracle 1

Birthday: Snowveil 1

Age: 43

Residence

• A small two room home surrounded by flowers.

Employment

• Employed as a Servant by Igarashi Kohana, previously Asagi of the Coil.

Memberships:

Family

• None biologically speaking

Allies

Character Arc:

• TBD

"It's the way of lost things to find their way home eventually."

Little Hinako, as many of the villagers have taken to calling her, is a mystery as far as any of them are concerned but a welcome one all the same. She has always been honest in her dealings, always careful and considerate of the opinions and tempers of one side or another in the perpetual struggles between the factions of Yanagihama and has been unfalteringly kind within the means of her life here as a servant to the Master and Mistress of the Mother's Coil.

These things most remember clearly but it would be an injustice to say that her fine features, small stature, dark eyes, pale complexion and dark, perfumed hair don't help secure a place in certain minds. The callouses on her hands seeming almost an indignity for how they mar the otherwise doll-like perfection she presents to the world. Yet there is further a paradox about the woman as no matter how happy she seems in the moment, a quiet melancholy still clings to her as if she longs to be somewhere else.

A detail that has given rise to more than one rumor that she is the truant daughter of some distant noble house or the victim of some tragic turn of fate. A different rumor follows in her wake though for those who have seen her stare down the river that winds through Yanagihama towards the residences of the Nakamura. That rumor speaks of unrequited love with one or another of the scions of that old family.

Another matter of curiosity is in the way she moves... In most cases, it is with the due grace of a courtly lady but there are times when she is nothing but a klutz as if a puppet subjected to the whims of too many puppeteers.

Of course, there remains one other matter that none among the villagers save maybe Lady Igarashi might know and that when the mask of innate magic is cast aside... Pale flesh turns to porcelain, dark eyes turn to glass and all that is soft about her figure turns from muscle and sinew to corded silk and hemp. For the doll-like beauty is truly just that, a doll that found life through strange twists of fortune and found her way home.