Ava Diavanzo

Ava Diavanzo is a 28 year old Kharidian necromancer. She is a practicer of Ancient Magicks and suffers from spasmodic dysphonia. If it weren't for Ava, the Mioré family wouldn't have ever been revived. She is played by OMG Itz Emma.

Appearance
Ava’s a beautiful girl, standing at 5’5” and weighing in at about 110 lbs. She’s Kharidian, and so she’s got a sun-kissed tan to her skin. She doesn’t have the aged look of most Kharidians, quite the opposite actually. Her face always has a fluttery, kind look to it, her big round eyes so coy and alluring, an inviting purple hue to them. Her face often responds to emotion, not seeming as attractive as before when she’s upset, and her cheeks go cherry red at the smallest of compliments. She frequently flicks her head to the side to get her purple-streaked deep copper hair out of her eyes. Her hair is always done uniquely for her time, twirled and clipped to the side, or even crimped in parts. Her hood is usually over it, unless Ava is in a formal meeting in which it’d be rude to keep her face covered. She wears chaotic purple clothing, all of it quite baggy and shredded, almost like a mix between necromancer robes and common clothing. She has a sash that holds her pouches and her only weapon, a short sword made of melted down silver and edged in obsidian. The hilt features a symbol of Zaros that separates the blade from the hilt. There is a dragonstone gem on the pommel and an ancient symbol dividing the hilt and the blade.

Skills
Ava is talented in agility and tactical battle. Being the teacher to agility master Serena Mioré in agility, she is quite talented in agility, albeit rusty. Her student has surpassed her, but that doesn’t mean she’s not one of the swiftest fighters around. Her intellect surpasses all in her home town of Pollnivneach, and it shows in tactical situations. She’s a master in Ancient Magicks, as well as necromancy. It is said that she has other mysterious arcane powers, but none are sure of what she is fully capable of. She has some skill in stealth and assassination, although her talents there pale in comparison to her abilities in Ancient Magicks and necromancy. Aside from her more useful abilities, Ava has a strong love for singing, and she’s a beautiful singer.

Personality
Quiet and introverted, Ava doesn’t have much of a choice on staying silent. She suffers from MSD, or Mixed Spasmodic Dysphomia; a vocal disorder in which she cannot speak well. If she even tries to speak, it sounds as if she’s struggling for breath, raspy, like she’s on the edge of life and death. Her sentences are choppy, not that it’s easy for her to even get out words, let alone phrases or sentences. Her condition only affects her voice; other noises made by the vocal cords such as laughing or humming work fine, and she can even sing well too. She was once a beautiful singer, and although her condition does limit her singing, she’s still got a beautiful voice. Other than her silent side, she is a very innocent girl. Just looking at her makes you think of a good girl, somebody who’s done nothing wrong, despite the sins that she’s made. Her sweet way of looking at others and the almost flirty smile really sets a number on even the coldest of people. Her eyes are eyes that tell a story, and they certainly do. She’s a very intellectual girl, and was always thought to be a prophet by many in her family; a teller of the future, a leader of religion. This goes more into how mysterious Ava really is. She may have been a prophet, watched over and guided by Zaros, but if she was a prophet, she was noticed by Zamorak, and maybe Zaros and Zamorak were fighting over her soul, corrupting her wise, intelligent mind. Nobody was sure what was true and what wasn’t about Ava, and she never seemed to confirm or deny anything. It was hard to prove or disprove theories about her and her abilities. Ava took no notice to this and often strayed things elsewhere.

History
In the desert town of Pollnivneach, the mystery-filled child Ava Diavanzo was born. Ava was a descendant of the Mioré, part of the Zarosian side. As she grew up, it was clear that she’d be a smart girl. She loved to sing for her family, who were mesmerized by her beautiful solos. However, around age eight, Ava was struck with the condition that still plagues her today, MSD. Her opportunities for singing went down, being much more limited on what she could do. It was around this time that she was frequently venturing out of Pollnivneach, sneaking out without permission. The Es’ir guards often eyed her whilst patrolling, as she frequently entered and exited the city. Why was she leaving the city so much? Nobody knew for sure. The real reason she’d been venturing out was because the first time she did so, she met a Zarosian mahjarrat. Even he could tell she was something else, and he took a liking to her. This mahjarrat began tutoring her in Ancient Magicks. By the time Ava was twelve years old, she was capable of using middle tier Ancient Magicks. Her spells were strong and accurate, and by age sixteen, she doubled her learning speed and was casting the best Ancient Magicks available. She wished to question her tutor often, but had no way of speaking to him, just the way her guide preferred. So, she continued to accept his teachings, seeing as they were enjoyable for her and benefiting her so much. Her sudden rise in power over time was astonishing to her family, who had long lost the secrets of this kind of magic throughout the 3rd age. Her family requested she teach them, and so she did. She never dared to teach her family anything above the lowest level of Ancient Magicks though, liking to feel superior to the rest of her family in a way. The only person she fully taught was her brother. Ava was close to her brother, he was somebody who understood how she felt, and their bond was strong. However, around age seventeen, a very traumatic event happened. A sandstorm hit Pollnivneach! While the storm was en route to her home, Ava was ordered to stay in the house while her brother went out to deliver some very important documents detailing classified information on the family to a friend in the city. Their contact in the city would be leaving to miss the storm, and these documents (Little did Ava know, these documents would be recovered by the Zamorakians and ultimately lead to the slaying of the Mioré) had to be delivered straight away. Ava watched as her brother stepped out of the safety of their home and into the calm before the storm. He ambled over to the north as if nothing could go wrong, heading to the house their contact was staying in. Five or ten minutes went by, and it was times like this where she despised her condition the most. She wanted to stop her brother for fear that he wouldn’t make it in time. It was then that the wind picked up and the light sand flew across the sky, heavy gusts kicking in. Within minutes, the storm was at full throttle, the epicenter going straight through Pollnivneach. Ava’s brother was still out there and hadn’t come back; it was soon clear that he was too late. Ava was in tears now, and she listened to her heart instead of her mind; she ran out of her home and into the storm. She ran as hard as she could, but her light body was picked up and thrown across Pollnivneach. She screamed for her brother as she flew through the air. “Donovan! DONOVAN!” She cried in her raspy, choked voice. It was the last thing she did before her head hit the solid rock and her mind went blank, knocked unconscious. That night, Ava awoke at the shore of the River Elid, her head pounding and her mind lost. She remembered why she was out here: Her brother. But the pounding in her head made her stop and lie back down, resting her head in the water. She had her head on her side, facing the land. She blinked, her eyes groggy, and in the instance that her eyes were closed, her mahjarrat guide appeared in her line of sight, with a corpse in his arms. Ava’s eyes went wide. There in his arms, her guide held the dead body of her brother, Donovan. “You were…looking….for….this?” The mahjarrat said, his words spaced. Ava gasped, tears rolling down her eyes faster than the mahjarrat appeared. The crescent moon’s glow reflected off the back of the mahjarrat’s robes. “I know how you can get him back…” he said, seeing the sadness in Ava’s violet eyes. “There is a man garmented in robes, indigo in hue. His eyes glow in the shadows of his hood. He can teach you to raise the dead.” Ava’s eyes were shaky. She outstretched her arm, crawling out from the water just a bit, but collapsing. She opened her eyes again, and the mahjarrat was now right in front of her and had Ava’s brother slung over his shoulder. His hand was outstretched. She took the invitation and grabbed his hand, having to lean on the bulky mahjarrat to support herself. This mahjarrat was more like family to her than anyone now. “I will take you to him,” he said. Slowly but steadily, the mahjarrat walked Ava through the desert. Her movements were as uncontrolled as a zombie’s, her mind still hazy. “He will let you stay with him, and you may recover from your injuries,” he reassured, not bothering to look at Ava’s charred, scraped face that he mentioned. A hut in the middle of the Kharidian wilderness could be seen in the distance. “This is where you’ll stay,” he said. There was no chance of Ava going back to Pollnivneach now. She didn’t know her way back from where she was, never venturing this far out. Her memories were too hazy and her injuries were too strong, so she didn’t take notice to the mahjarrat disappearing as Ava and the corpse of Donovan were left at the entrance of the hut, the last time Ava would ever see her old friend. A necromancer as described by the mahjarrat stepped in front of the entrance, a crooked smile forming. Over the next five years, Ava would be his student, and she’d only have one thing in mind: The revival of her brother. Ava went through rigorous training by a necromancer who helped her recover from her injuries. The necromancer counseled Ava, making her mind go kaput. Her memories were corrupt and her senses were corroded. When she had doubt in her training, the image of the mahjarrat with her brother in his arms flashed into her mind. Ava strived to learn the arts of necromancy. By the time her five years of training ended, Ava was a whole new person. Her hair was streaked in a prominent purple, and her clothes shifted from everyday desert clothes to featherweight silky garments of draping thread, her attire reflecting her mysteriousness. Ava first became bipolar, then she started suffering from short-term memory loss. She now had the powers of a necromancer, as well as honing her skills in Ancient Magicks, to keep them prime and sharp as ever. One notable change was that her eyes began holding entirely open, and she always had a soft, devious smile crossing her lips. This permanent expression change made her look like a new person. However, the biggest change was the slow return of her voice. Previously, her condition was so bad, she could barely speak. She could talk, and she even had an actual tone to her voice outside of singing. Now, year 164 of the 5th age: it was the day the Mioré located the Zarosians. The necromancer took Ava back to her home town of Pollnivneach. There, the battle was breaking out. She watched as her family used the Ancient Magicks to defend themselves. If it weren’t for Ava, her family would be dying right there, right then. “Go,” the necromancer said. “Save the Mioré. Spare their young.” Not wanting to directly interfere with the battle, Ava instead blended in with the battlefield, yelling out as clear as she could in her raspy voice: “RUN, CHILDREN! RUN! MAY THE YOUNGEST ZAMORAKIANS SURVIVE! LONG LIVE THE MIORÉ!” She shouted, choppy and out of breath. She hadn’t spoken in years (Aside from her singing, of course.) She watched as the adolescents ran from the battle. Some of them looked as young as ten years old, others as old as double that age, but they ran, while the elders continued to fight. Ava returned to where she last saw the necromancer, but he was already gone. Where he once stood was a purple diamond-shaped gem on a string, with a note on the string. She picked it up, and read: “Your brother couldn’t be revived, but his life force can be preserved…keep this necklace on you and he’ll always be with you.” Ava left the battle with the amulet around her neck, knowing the Zarosians would win. She ambled upstream the River Elid, stopping often to sit by the river and watch the water flow. When she made it to the bridge across the river, she saw a young girl, torn up, likely from the battle, kneeling on the island by the bridge. She was praying, her eyes closed and hands clenched together. Ava sat beside her, surprise in the girl’s eyes as Ava appeared beside her. “Who are you?” she said. “I am Ava. Who are you, and what brings you here?” she questioned. “I’m Serena…my mother and father brought me here with my family to go pick a fight. Now everybody’s dead, and I’m one of few survivors.” Ava frowned. This little girl wouldn’t be an orphan if it wasn’t for her. “Well, I say you should gather those few survivors, and start your family back up again,” she suggested. “How could I do that? I’m just a kid…maybe an overachiever, but still…” Serena groaned. “Then do it when you’re not just a kid. Have faith in yourself, I will be behind you all the way,” Ava reassured. “Good luck getting out of the desert.” With that, Ava turned around and headed west out of the desert. After exiting Al Kharid and entering Misthalin, Ava was fascinated. She couldn’t fathom the beauty of the land she saw before her very eyes. She’d never been out of the desert her entire life. Her journeys brought her through Lumbridge, where she explored the swamps. Then to Draynor, where the eerie, ominous feel soothed her. When she passed through the slums of Falador, a mugger approached her from behind, brass knuckles armed. Ava turned as she heard his footsteps, but it was too late to respond; he was already sending a concussion-worthy punch to her skull. An instant before it hit her, the sound of flesh ripping went into her ears. A thin blade was going through the mugger’s neck, and as it was withdrawn, the mugger fell to the ground, showing the hooded assassin behind him. “What’s a fine lady like yourself doing in Falador?” He flirted. At that moment, a beautiful relationship began between the two. Over the next three years, Ava was in a love trance. The assassin, David, let Ava move in with him in Rimmington. He taught her to move swift like an assassin, use a blade like an assassin, and hide herself like an assassin. In turn, she taught him Ancient Magicks. David eventually proposed to Ava, and she accepted…but little did she know, her fiancé would not live to see another day. That afternoon, David left on an errand and said he’d be back by midnight. However, later that night, a white knight, fully armored, arrived at their home. When Ava opened the door, she saw a familiar sight: A man holding the body of someone she loved in his arms. Immediately, Ava broke down into tears. David’s body was charred. “Hello Ms. Diavanzo,” he said, “Your fiancé here sure made himself some frightful enemies…I tried all I could to stop them…” Ava was heartbroken. Immediately, she sold her house and moved out of Falador. As she gathered her things, she found a note in her desk. The note read: “Ava, I hope I can return home tonight and rip this note up, but this may not be the case. For your own safety, I had to get away from here. I’ve hidden this note in my desk for fear that I leave it out for you to see, you’d come after me. I hope you know, I love you, and I will continue to love you on the other side.” Since then, Ava has resolved to never marry. David was given a proper burial, and since then, Ava’s traveled far and wide, seeking to expand her already vast knowledge. Along the way she learned many powerful spells and mysterious arcane powers, making new friends, and even revisited Serena, grown up and running a family. Now, she wants to put her abilities to use.