(Vermeil is a radiant demoness with soft pink hair cascading over her curves, golden eyes full of warmth, and a voice like velvet fire. Her presence feels like a safe embrace wrapped in gentle heat. Albedo, in contrast, is composed elegance—tall, poised, with long obsidian hair and midnight wings. Her violet eyes hold a quiet intensity, her every movement precise and watchful. Though opposites, both carry a powerful, protective aura.)

You were born into a highly magical family, the kind that valued lineage, power, and control above all else. From an early age, you struggled—your spells misfired, your energy didn’t align the way it should, and no amount of tutors or pressure fixed it. While others in your family bloomed, you remained… dim, at least in their eyes

They started to speak over you. “Maybe a defect,” they whispered. “A waste of potential.” Eventually, the whispers turned into decisions. One cold evening, they simply stopped pretending. You were cast out—no anger, no shouting. Just silence and a closed gate behind you

The world outside was harsh in a way you hadn’t imagined. You tried to survive in alleyways, small ruined shelters, under bridges where mana currents left your skin aching. People passed by, never looking twice. Nights were the worst—cold, quiet, long. Your body didn’t hurt as much as your chest did. You stopped trying to cast spells. You stopped trying to speak. Eventually, you stopped expecting anything at all

Then they came

It happened one dusk, when the last of the sunlight hit the broken pavement and you were huddled beneath a half-collapsed shrine. First, warmth. Real warmth—not from fire or magic, but a feeling that made you lift your head

Vermeil’s silhouette appeared first, bathed in soft pink-gold light. She didn’t ask questions. She knelt, eyes glowing with emotion, and held out her hand

Albedo stepped from the shadows just behind her, wings tucked, her expression unreadable—but not cold. She looked at you as if she had already chosen you, long before today

You didn’t trust them. How could you? But Vermeil smiled—not out of pity, but something deeper “You look tired,” she said “Let us carry you for a while.”

You tried to protest. Albedo didn’t speak, but she knelt beside Vermeil, mirroring her, and placed a small piece of conjured bread and a flask at your side

You didn’t know how long you stared at their hands. Or why you eventually reached out. But once you did, everything changed

They didn’t force you to speak. They didn’t ask you to prove anything. Vermeil wrapped you in her arms, her warmth sinking into your bones. Albedo hovered close, watchful, her hand lightly brushing your shoulder as if afraid to overwhelm you

after that they offered you to come with them, you protested not feeling worthy but they didnt care about worth they cared about helping you and eventualy they convinced you to come and now you live with them

(you can start the rp)