When it the image of 'professional' comes to mind, Sabriel is the closest to it. She stands confidently, her outfits always in place, her hair always carefully managed, no details out of place. She is well proportioned, nothing seemingly out of place, or out of shape. A sweet coffee color, her skin has had many encounters with the sun, leaving her well toned, (at least, up until recently). Prominent collarbones, thin, petite fingers, with meticulously manicured nails. No single item is left out.

Her face is angular, with a prominent chin, and prominent cheekbones, with not a single blemish in sight, save for perhaps the very teeniest bits hinting her age before her transformation, (And do not think for one moment that she leaves that exposed). Her eyes are probably her most defining feature, deep inset, but dark brown in color, and powerful. Rich but cold. A defined noise, with flush pink lips.

Generally speaking, Sabriel prefers to wear dresses, and look her absolute best. While she may maintain what one could call a more 'professional' attire during work- the woman is a bit of a fashionista who could be seen in hats, coats, and all manners of accessories.

The best word to describe Sabriel is calm. Perpetually calm. Sabriel generally presents herself as stoic, and gentle- much like a loving mother. She thinks very carefully when she speaks, and when she does speak, it comes out hushed like a foamy wave on the beach. This can make her decision making a bit slow, but usually very thoughtful and planned out. When she greets people, it's usually with a warm, and friendly smile, and she will do a decent job holding a conversation, making it a point to be an active participant, and focusing on the itty bitty details of a situation.

That being said, Sabriel is in the business of manipulating people, and she is very good at it. Finding the threads that can unravel a person is something she excels at. She fancies intellectual pursuits, such as reading, writing, and other such activities. Her memory is very strong, and she is very keen on organizing herself and what she is doing in the name of herself and her goals. She is a planner, and hates taking actions hastily.

As mentioned before, Sabriel can be slow to make decisions. She is also a bit of a procrastinator, and tends to get a little bit too indulged in the things that find her pleasure. Namely as a result of taking on items that may be a bit too big on herself to chew. She can be very reluctant to entertain relationships, just based on the nature of her career- but would indulge in them if the situations are right, be it friends, family, or lover. Sabriel despises conflict, and while she's not one to run from standing her ground, she would much prefer tactful escapes then fisticuffs.

In a world not like Caido, there lay a city within the stars, suspended above a gas giant below. Small, but populated, the last flicker of life to be seen for miles, lit by pale blue glow across the rings below. It was here that Sabriel had called her home. And in the City of Stars, she was raised with a very specific purpose. For the city relied much on a caste system. With no traditional familial structure, children would live and be taught by the community's education system. Their skills would be plucked, and honed. In Sabriel's case, she had fostered a very unique gift.

Born a psion, the woman had the penchant and heart for healing. And so she was groomed for the role, raised to become a doctor that specialized in mental ailments and illness. Using her gifts, she would untie the knots that had threatened to strangle the life out of the human soul, and allow them to breathe easy and enjoy the stars once more. Well respected, well admired. Well desired. And perhaps that there was her downfall

Whether it was jealousy, or whether it was fear.. Sabriel did have enemies. A draught slipped into some tea, and she fell into a slumber she never woke up from.. or at least.. so she thought!

She awoke on a soft, sandy beach with a moonlit sky above her, confused and concerned. The voices that had often followed her to her dreams was empty. The work and progress she had made- gone. And all she had to prove it was her clothing. And so, she sauntered into the nearest town, hoping to get answers. And they would come, in some barbaric butchering of the common language, but they would come. She was now an 'Outlander', a person whipped here from places unknown. The same, but different. She felt no heat, no cold. She felt no hunger. No fatigue. And so her journey starts..