Amaya Haddock  Ilvermorny

Stats (53):
Stamina » 8 || Evasion » 14 || Strength » 2 || Wisdom » 11 || Arc Power » 7 || Accuracy » 11

Abilities:

First Year: Lovely Creature [X]

Reducio

Ever since she was a little girl, Amaya had always been self-conscious of her appearance and thoroughly watched her weight and nutrition. It was the reason she stood only a few inches taller than five feet. She wanted to look, be, and feel admitted in her clan. Females of the tribe had gorgeous curly hair, usually braided. They were all extremely pretty, to say the least, The girl had shortened her hair to restrict the number of hours she wasted on it. Growing up in tribes, she learned how to preserve her hair using aloe vera, and she also studied a few protective styles to attempt on herself. It was always competition within the family. It was a difficult transition from her small hometown to the huge city of Minneapolis. She stuck out, but that was a good thing.

At school, the girl still continues her skincare routine, incorporating multiple elixirs and creams from home. After all, she had the best of both worlds. Maya had acquired an exaggerated sense of vanity from herself and the people around her. She knew her worth, even if it was heavily taxed. After all, she earned it after spending hundreds of dollars on face cream before Ilvermorny. Strangers would take note of her hard-earned appearance, she always had a date to the reception, and while she could have taken offense to the catcalls she experienced on the streets, she took it indifferently and with a simper. It was only another boost to her self-confidence.

Ebony Moore put an unnecessary strain on her daughter, essentially due to the fact the only remanent of her husband sat in front of her. After all, Amaya carried her father's last name, features of his personality, and looks. Their relationship was never well-built, their days were congested with arguments. She didn't have her father around to counter the words put into her head. Perhaps if she had a father figure, Ebony wouldn't have enunciated such virulent words. It stressed her out. Ultimately, she wanted to be comfortable and have her own family. Her looks and essential home skills would be the necessities to find her a husband, and while that did sound like her 'happily ever after,' she wouldn't linger in the same walls that had been constructed around her mother. More or less, she wouldn't be bribed into the twisted system by her own blood.

But until then, Maya would stick to perfecting her natural beauty.

Second Year: Calming Presence [X]

Reducio

Eventually growing up the oldest of four, Amaya is a consistently relaxed person, it takes a lot for her to make her crack. On her mother's side, she has and manages three other siblings. Well, half-siblings, and she's been there to see her sisters (and brother) get caught up in awkward situations she could have prevented. They aren't that far apart in age, but she has always been a safe space to rant to even when they couldn't trust their mother. She's seen them break down similar to herself. Maybe it was a trait that her mother carried.

Being the oldest came with a lot of early on pressure and the weight only continued to get heavier as she progressed in age. As much as she wanted to have someone to talk to about her problems, she couldn't go to her mother without her lack of empathy dismissing her problems as a sign of teenage hormones. And her father? Well, it had been years since they've last seen each other. She didn't even retain his face. Amaya could only trust herself with her problems. It was up to Amaya to keep her mental health in check. It was either a win or loss, but there weren't too many wins in her history.

Sneaking a dog into the house was never a wise decision, but it was every girl's dream to own a small pup and it was a stray. Reina was only nine years old at the time, but her older sister was the first person she came to after getting scorned by her mother. It was a bit odd how two words and a tight embrace could stop tears from falling. Amaya had learned to bottle up her emotions, it was uncommon to see her cry. Perhaps it was because instead of concentrating on her own problems, she advised others. She had witnessed her peers weep, but her tear ducts were unaffected for the most part. Those emotional scenes in movies didn't have an effect on her anymore. It was in her nature, like mother, like daughter.

Maybe it were her candid words that made her easy to trust. Maya adhered to her words, always. She didn't have a motive to lie, there was no point in getting caught up in her own words. She didn't have the greatest memory either... Regardless of what others thought, if something didn't seem legitimate, the girl would be the first to say and not very lightly either; she was relentlessly honest and there were no exceptions.

Third Year: Statistically Relevant [X] +2 Evasion

Reducio

The Native American girl spent her early childhood running around with the other children inside of her tribe. Whether it was rain or shine, or even snow or sleet, she was always out exercising her energy. She couldn't sit in her parent's home and do her chores. She was lazy but in her own unique way. Her mother was completely fine with the housework anyway. She was far too indolent to remain in one spot and scrub the antique china. It was an early sign of ADHD, but both her parents and Amaya dismissed it. After all, every five year old had some type
of energy that seemed infinite.

Islandball was a traditional tournament played by the children of the Dakota tribe, an adapted variation of dodgeball that had stuck in their family for decades. It was regular dodgeball, sure, but one small movement of the girl's feet would get her kicked out of the competition. It was the girl's favorite, though she wasn't the best at it. Launching a ball with power was very difficult with her feet planted in the same spot.

Being the commander of her team, she got to shine and show off her quickness and nimble frame. Maya certainly wasn't chosen because of her powerful arm, but because of her inability to stay in one spot. It made her a truly mobile victim if they could get to her. She had a pronounced target on her back being the only person on the team who could admittedly run throughout the field. She was in charge of returning dodgeballs to her team and staying on her feet. She couldn't get out. With dozens of rubber balls being hurled at her face, she couldn't help but stay alert. Flawless games were unusual for commanders, but not unheard of. She dove, slid, and ducked underneath the red balls flying towards her, and before she knew it the whistle was sounded and the last player of the opposing team had been knocked out. She'd earned her perfect run!

Her childish behavior kept her hyperactivity disorder down, it was the only time she could focus. Maya wasn't a very competitive person, but she wanted to win. More importantly, she didn't want to let down her team or be the reason for their downfall. It was a lot of pressure, but she wasn't focused on it. It was a bit unusual how she could find the energy to play with the other children, but she couldn't complete her housework. The girl needed to move, who could blame her for that?

Fourth Year: Perfectionist [X]

Reducio

Amaya had discovered her calling inside her tribe, an excuse to finally obtain her parents' blessing; something that wouldn't overpower her into the same profession as her mother. She couldn't be a housewife, she was considered too lazy to even leave the bed without the impulse of her clients' dollars.

Before she bestowed her 'expertise' with the women of her tribe she practiced on herself and her mother, at least when she was so deep into her slumber she couldn't feel the fine bristles of her brushes applying pigment to her face. Every Friday night, she earned money from gambling on Islandball. Whether she was playing or not, she made intelligent decisions to finance her side hustle. Needless to say, she was more than just a pretty face. Maya went to the neighborhood supermarket, outside of her land, and came back with eyeliner, foundation, eyeshadow, highlighters, and the basic necessities for a makeup look. One thing she forgot, however, was a method to remove the cosmetics.

Perched by the river, she would prop up a mirror on rock and work on her look, focusing on everything but the fine strokes of her hand. The sound of the rushing water always found a way to distract her. With every mistake she made, the water was contaminated a new shade of eyeshadow, but she didn't know any better. If push came to shove, the grocery store carried bottles of water, but every chief maintained the traditions of its history. Doing makeup was frustrating, it never turned out in her favor. She could never find a way to cover up her natural freckles, the eyeshadow was never a match for her, and Maya always abused the blush. It never worked out, but she wouldn't give up hope! Cosmetics was something she played constantly in, trying her hardest to achieve new looks she recognized in public and mimick the warpaint of her ancestors.

The girl completed her first satisfactory look at the age of fourteen, nearly a whole year of decorating herself in paint. She was proud, it was perfect! The girl showed it off to her whole faction but remained humble about it. After all, she wasn't going to force a false compliment out of the other girls. Achieving her version of perfection convinced Amaya to put her artwork out there... on other people! It didn't take long before her father began promoting her work, and soon, she had a couple of loyal friends around her age to gossip with. Makeup was her passion, she was thrilled to share it with the ladies she'd grown up with.

Her perfectionism was the same when it came to magic. Witchcraft began to take over her life as she invested more time into it. Maya hadn't taken her first three years in school seriously, she was still adapting to the second world around her. She could use these powers to benefit her tribe, once she turned the legal age, of course. Away from Ilvermorny, she would practice for hours until she received her first letter from the Ministry. She couldn't blame them. Her village was very big and her secret could have easily slipped from ear to ear. Still, that didn't stop her from telling her close friends.

Reciting the first spells she learned in her first year, Amaya wouldn't forget the incantation, articulation, even the etymology of the spell. There were late night sessions by the river until she felt comfortable with spells... but she still reached her quality of perfection. She went through many tribulations; worries that one of her peers may catch her or that she appeared 'off' compared to the rest. She did. The girl didn't fit the stereotype of the Dakota tribe, but disregarding the magic of the village's shaman, using her abilities was seen as a sin.

It had taken her forever to achieve perfection; she wasn't quite there yet, but you couldn't tell Amaya that. She had already achieved her goal and really, that's all that mattered.

Duellist