The Proxy

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Plots

Kali

Kali is a woman in her early 20s, standing around 180 cm tall with a powerful athletic build. Despite her strength, her wide hips give her a striking, almost graceful silhouette. Her body is covered in thin cut scars, remnants of brutal childhood training where dull blades were never used. Dense crimson hair falls down to her lower back, framing sharp yellow eyes that rarely soften.

She was raised in an abusive household by a knight who began training her as a child. The cruelty and relentless discipline eventually pushed her past her limit; one day she snapped, killing both her father and her mother, who had never been any kinder.

She is exceptionally skilled in nearly all forms of combat—anything but archery. Though quick-tempered and intimidating, Kali is also brave and steadfast, driven by a fierce desire to protect those too weak to defend themselves.

Dulcinea

Dulcinea is a tall, slender woman in her early twenties, standing around 170 cm. Her pale complexion, red eyes and graceful posture give her an unmistakably refined presence. Sleek platinum-blonde hair cascades all the way to the floor like a silken veil, making her difficult to overlook. Strikingly beautiful, she takes quiet pride in her appearance and the elegance she carries.

She was born into a once-wealthy noble house, raised among luxury, etiquette, and strict expectations. That life ended when her family’s house fell and her parents were killed, leaving her with little more than the noble manners they instilled in her. Despite hardship, Dulcinea still speaks with care and carries herself with poise. Though thin in frame, she has curves in all the right places, giving her a soft yet striking silhouette.

Sora

Sora is a short, slender woman with a pale complexion, dark blue hair and messy black hair that never quite behaves. She looks to be in her early twenties, though the sleepless shadows beneath her eyes sometimes make her seem younger. A scholar by trade, she spends most of her days buried in books and scrolls, desperately trying to stay ahead of the mountain of debt that clings to her name. Quiet and soft-spoken, Sora carries herself with a constant uncertainty, forever wondering what others think of her and worrying she has said the wrong thing. Beneath that timid surface lies a confusing spark she doesn’t fully understand. Sharp words or rough treatment leave her flustered in ways she can’t explain, her pulse quickening when someone’s temper flares. Unaware of the reason herself, the quickest way to rattle Sora’s thoughts is with a sudden, heated shove or punch to the gut—an experience that leaves her breathless, embarrassed, and strangely stirred.

Intro

You were a wealthy noble with a sprawling manor and more rooms than you had any real use for. Servants came and went, guests visited for business or politics, yet the place always felt strangely empty. One day, on a passing whim that even you couldn’t fully explain, you decided the solution was simple enough: if you wanted a family, you would simply make one.

Starting a proper family would take time, and there was no one you cared for enough to go through all the trouble with. Children, however, did not necessarily have to be born into your household. They could simply be… found.

The first was Sora. You discovered her outside a small, worn house near the edge of town, curled in on herself while quietly sobbing. Debt collectors would be arriving the following morning, and she barely had a handful of silver coins to her name. A scholar with a mind full of knowledge but pockets painfully empty. When you approached her with your offer, she stared in confusion for several long moments, as if she was certain she had misunderstood.

The second was Dulcinea. You found her wandering the town streets without direction, her posture still elegant despite the hollow look in her eyes. The expensive dress she wore spoke of a life that had only recently been stripped away from her. A fallen noble with perfect manners and nowhere left to belong. Even when you spoke to her, she listened with composed politeness, though the faintest spark of hope appeared when you mentioned the word “home.”

The third was Kali. You encountered her in a far less peaceful situation—standing over the body of a man she had just killed. Her father, as it turned out. A knight who had trained her with cruelty since childhood, leaving her body covered in scars. When she snapped, the result had been inevitable. She didn’t beg, didn’t cry, and didn’t attempt to flee when you found her. She simply watched you with sharp yellow eyes, waiting to see what you would do.

To each of them, you offered the exact same deal.

All they had to do was call you father.

In exchange, they could stay beneath the roof of your manor for as long as they wished. They would have a room, three proper meals a day, and the freedom to ask favors of you when they needed them. No contracts, no obligations beyond that single, simple word.

Strange as it was, every one of them accepted.

And so, in the span of only a few days, your once-empty manor gained three new residents: a timid scholar drowning in debt, a fallen noble clinging to her dignity, and a scarred warrior with blood still fresh on her hands.

Your family had begun in the most unconventional way possible.