Good evening everyone. I am curious if you have spots left open for more members of this lovely crew? This rp has stirred my imagination and I'm eager to get to work on fabricating my character should you still be accepting.
Good evening everyone. I am curious if you have spots left open for more members of this lovely crew? This rp has stirred my imagination and I'm eager to get to work on fabricating my character should you still be accepting.
We are moving to the next scene, a reunion in the club to discuss the results of the previous night. You are free to wrap up your characters' nocturnal activities on your next posts, but make sure they end the post in the club meeting, or at least acknowledging it in some way (if they dare skip it).
Age: 16 Emblem:A large tattoo, composed of scarlet ink and reminiscent of a greatsword, stretches from the base of Maiko’s neck to her lower back. In the dark, it pulsates gently to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Devil Arm: Once, Maiko wielded a beautiful greatsword, crafted of quicksilver and embossed with golden dragons. That sword is gone now, shattered under the pressure of her battle lust, its misshapen shards sinking into her flesh and remaking her vital organs. Her heart is nigh unbreakable, while her bones have hardened to the extent that her former armor is redundant at best, a handicap at worst.
Magic: When she was elated with her powers as a magical girl, Maiko played with space itself, capable of freely manipulating distance and creating portals that would swallow up and redirect the attacks of her enemies. It was a highly potent defensive and counter-based fighting style. Now though, she hardly cares for her spatial sorcery, instead boosting her physical parameters and regenerative capabilities to monstrous levels.
Only one truly magical power still resides within Maiko, both a mark of her conviction and a sign of her fraying madness: Quickstep, a short-range teleportation ability that brings her face-to-face with her enemies. No retreat, no escape, no ranged combat. She will always be there to beat their face in.
Background She wanted to fight for more.
It was never about friendship. It was never about protecting normality. It was never about standing up for the weak. It was a fight against boredom, against a reality that threatened to swallow her whole and hammer her down. Magical girls were only magical for as long as they were ‘girls’ after all, and though her brother may have been blessed with having an ‘extraordinary’ life, Maiko’s own prospects were so much dimmer.
So before she fell apart, before she became another nail in a plank, she’ll drown herself in the boundary line between life and death, risking her sanity and her limbs to be reborn again and again in the shredded resentment of her foes.
None of her family was in harms’ way. None of her friends had met tragic ends. Her entire life was bereft of suffering, and her heart was not made of fragile innocence.
No, Maiko shattered her holy sword simply because she wanted something new.
When she clenches her fist on a night with a full moon, she clenches it not in opposition of the abnormal, but in opposition of the ordinary.
Inventory: A cheap MP3 player and an equally cheap set of earbuds, loaded up with songs that get her blood pumping and her mind in the zone.
It writhed like a wingless wyrm, bubbles of tar popping from its diseased form as it slunk around the shadows, searching for succulent sorrows on that full moon night. The alleyway was dim, but not dim enough to mask the abyssal aberration that it housed, and three blocks away, Maiko had no problem at all spotting it.
It was simply the question then, of whether she should let this Nightmare grow a little bigger before reaping her harvest, or if she should take care of it now, before someone else takes her prey. Decisions, decisions, decisions. Her legs swung off the side of the roof as the nighttime breeze tousled her ashen hair. Heavy beats hammered down her eardrums, numbing the stress of the last month, while her gauntleted hands continued to clench and unclench.
Yes or no?
In her mind’s eye, the coin flipped and dropped, clattering in the void.
Yes.
The Devil’s Heart hammered against her rib cage as her toes dug into the concrete of the building. From here, it was a straight shot, and she kicked off, spider web fractures bursting from where she launched herself. A shadowed blur crossed through the starry sky with a smile, smashing into the Nightmare. It retaliated almost immediately, a dozen arachnid-esque appendages shlopping from its grotesque form to skewer the intruder.
But it was too late.
Its response had been that of a monster, not of a mortal, and by the time its counterattack began, Maiko was already laughing, grabbing fistfuls of goop and ripping the Nightmare apart. Within moments, the walls were painted black with resentment, broken appendages tossed haphazardly across the quiet alleyway. The core of the monster seeped into her soul.
She enjoyed the afterglow of violence, for just a moment.
Hello again. I'm just dropping in to keep everyone apprised of my progress. I've been steadily working on my CS with little to no pause since my last post in the OOC. I should have it ready for review by either today or tomorrow at the latest.
Your CS seems quite ok. However, if you could clarify what you meant by this sentence, it would be better for us:
Magical girls were only magical for as long as they were ‘girls’ after all, and though her brother may have been blessed with having an ‘extraordinary’ life, Maiko’s own prospects were so much dimmer.
@KoL First point is due to how she's aware that she won't be a magical girl forever, either through corruption, death, or family obligations. Also, there probably isn't any case that she's aware of where a 20-30 year old woman with a family became a magical girl, so yeeee.
Second point is because her brother is talented enough to live as he wants do, doing crazy shit that sounds like it belongs to a different genre, and she has no small amount of jealousy towards him in that regard.
Right now, everyone is gathering to the Detention Club meeting room. It's a good start to introduce anyone new who wasn't seen in the previous night's battle.
It should be noted that the models for her transformation clothes are not representative of her appearance. The images only represent the clothing that appear on her. In the case with her pre-corruption transformation outfit it's designed to appear with a pure white shirt and skirt beneath the cloak.
A special crystalline inkwell with a small blood red chalice inside. When activated the chalice will begin to fill with a special type of "ink", overflowing until it eventually reaches the well's stopper. Drinking the ink begins the transformation.
• Devil Arm: Hers was never so much a weapon as it was a pure white quill. Since she started to feed upon the nightmares's essence the feather has become as black as the starless night sky.
• Magic: Her magic, as her title might indicate, is the ability to summon special beings to fight in her stead. Her magic is far from straightforward however.
The "ink" which is stored inside the inkwell is meant to be drank by it's user. Upon being consumed the "ink" will start to flow from her mouth in an unending stream, spreading quite rapidly across the floor until it has formed into a sizable pool. This pool is meant to serve as both the ink which Daisy uses to summon forth her avatars and the very substance the avatars are wrought from.
As for the process of summoning there are special requisites needed in order to conjure forth her avatars. In order to summon one forth she must write the name of the avatar onto one of her own limbs at which point the limb will become numb and useless. In exchange for the use of her limb the pool of "ink" will spawn forth the chosen avatar, drawn from the minds of those nearest and given physicality as a detached extension of Daisy herself.
In the past these avatars used to take the form of things people enjoyed. Avatars of kindness, nobility and sunshine were a few amongst her wide roster. When Daisy chose to pursue power over virtue these avatars ceased to answer her summons. In place of them dangerous new avatars took their place. The avatars of things people feared became visible to her. Avatars of death, solitude, spiders and all other forms of fear became her servants.
These fears need a source to draw strength from however and Daisy is but one girl with only a few rather specific fears. In addition to summoning Daisy can see the fears of all those around her in the form of their fear's names appearing in words just above their heads. The strength of these fears is represented as the size of these names in proportion to the other fears they suffer. While this provides little insight as to where these fears stem from, if anything at all, this special form of sight allows her to see people who would normally go unseen such as people behind walls or other such forms of obfuscation due to the fears which hover over them at all times.
For the avatars themselves the strength of the fear felt by those around Daisy are taken in upon their shaping. Each avatar of fear possesses unique abilities pertaining to it's specific fear. The avatar's power is related to both the strength of the fear it's formed from and Daisy's own magical strength, giving even the lesser fears a minimum to how much power they can possess. Notable avatars shall be listed below and should new ones surface they too will be added to the list.
Thanatophobia: The fear of death. This fear takes the form of a black robed reaper who's form is entirely masked in darkness beneath the hooded cloth. This avatar wields a large foreboding scythe which it uses to terrifying effect. For this avatar the physical world is immaterial. It travels by floating, passing through all inorganic and dead matter as though it were all mere shadows. Only living organic matter is solid for the reaper, allowing it to strike at living foes. In addition the reaper can also see the souls of the living, allowing it to see them as far as the eye can see though crowds can still create some diversion. The reaper is skilled with it's scythe and the greater it's power is the larger both the reaper and it's scythe becomes, allowing it more strength and reach with it's greater mass. Additionally the greater the reaper's power is the easier it's blade cuts through living matter. Due to being physically capable of touching living matter however living matter can also strike back too. While most non-living objects both normal and conjured will not effect the reaper immaterial forces such as fire or lightning will interact with it as it would with any other tangible cadaver. The lantern which hangs from it's scythe is lit with a blue flame which draws the minds of those who look into it towards thoughts of one's own fleeting mortality. The light also serves to announce the reaper's presence wherever it appears. Thanatophobia Appearance.
Taphophobia: The fear of being buried alive. This fear largely takes the form of living earth, corpses entombed within it's body of dirt. Often times the main form of this avatar won't even be seen directly, opting to travel beneath the earth only to reach up with hands of dirt to grab it's prey and drag them beneath the ground, burying them inside itself. Taphophobia travels by gently swimming silently through the earth, rarely disrupting the environment around it as it is practically passing through the dirt itself. Despite being made of dirt however this being cannot reform from just any dirt. Being shattered and displaced thoroughly enough will result in this avatar's de-animation. This avatar's size grows in proportion to it's power. With greater size Taphophobia can create even larger hands to grasp it's victims and an even greater number of hands to grab a larger quantity of said victims with. Taphophobia Appearance.
Astraphobia: The fear of lightning/thunder. This fear takes form as some sort of unearthly force given solid form. With protective metal armor this being conjures forth electricity from it's body and can direct bolts of lightning from the sky to targeted locations. The lightning from this entity strikes with such force it produces the crack of thunder which can be heard well and far. The strength and frequency with which this being can expel lightning is determined by it's overall power. Though well armored this being has a physical form and can be dispatched through solid attacks. Affects which specifically target organic systems have little sway over this avatar since it is wrought from pure force with no real systems to influence, cardiovascular or otherwise. Astraphobia Appearance.
Mastigophobia: The fear of punishment. This fear manifests as a living iron maiden which travels upon squat iron legs, reaching out with it's thick iron doors while a mysterious force draws the guilty towards it's open container filled with blood stained spikes. This avatar is among the stranger sorts of it's kind. Aside from being made of solid metal and having large iron limbs lined with spikes it's powers aren't strictly oriented for combat with nightmares specifically. Mastigophobia emits a special aura which preys upon the minds of those who have acknowledge that they have done something wrong. They are not required to show remorse or guilt for their actions but they must recognize their transgression as immoral at the very least. Those who qualify are influenced by the aura, driven to climb inside the iron maiden. The greater they perceive the transgression as being the more potent the draw becomes. It is possible to resist the pull of the iron maiden through sheer willpower however the longer the guilty spend in it's aura the harder it is to resist. With greater power Mastigophobia grows in durability and inescapability, both in the literal sense as well as with it's mental pull. Mastigophobia Appearance.
Agliophobia: The fear of pain. This fear appears as a tall humanoid with massive hands and no facial features or hair, just ears. Agliophobia endures punishment with remarkable fortitude and can dish it out with it's enormous hands. Despite having no eyes to see with this being is capable of knowing what's around it with perfect precision though this only applies up to a relatively short distance. Beyond this distance it can only use it's hearing to navigate by. This avatar projects an aura which magnifies the pain suffered for all caught inside it's radius. Conversely the more pain this avatar suffers the stronger and more durable it becomes. The strength of the fear this avatar is born from adjudicates the potency of it's pain aura. Agliophobia Appearance.
Arachnophobia: The fear of spiders. This fear takes the form of a spider the size of a full grown man wearing a giant skull upon it's back. It possesses a majority of the qualities a normal spider would have only taken to a larger size. The skull doesn't seem to weigh it down too much and provides decent protection. Improvement's to this avatar's strength improves both it's physical strength and durability. Greater strength also improves it's spider traits such as the durability and adhesiveness of it's webbing and the potency of it's paralyzing venom. Arachnophobia Appearance.
Nyctophobia: The fear of the dark. This fear takes the form of a humanoid wrought from darkness made material. This being assumes the form of a man at first but it's form is able to change freely, shifting it's mass to best serve it's needs. As it's body is made from darkness made flesh it has some properties which make this avatar quite tough and adaptable albeit with one notable weakness. It's flesh is in a constant shifting flux between solid and liquid, able to congeal into muscle and skin to form pseudopods with which to grapple and attack it's prey with but also able to shift into a self-animated fluid to help it reform around blows and pass through small openings. Even if it's flesh is struck while solid any part that's detached or crushed can simply turn to liquid and reform back into it's intended shape or reconnect to the main mass if detached. Despite it's hardiness towards physical combat this being is far more susceptible to light. When exposed to almost any form of light the substance comprising the avatar's physical mass will begin to corrode, the brighter the light the faster the corrosion. Natural sunlight causes the fastest deterioration out of all forms of light, light magic included. This dark mass while in a fluid state is susceptible to being frozen. When frozen it will no longer be usable by the avatar until the mass that is trapped is freed from the ice. The darkness is not flammable in either state however the light produced from flames will corrode it like any other light. All light magically created, both directly and as a byproduct of the magic cast such as flashes from lightning and light from fire, will corrode the avatar's dark mass just like any other source of light. Light produced by illusion magic will not corrode the dark mass however as the light created is simply an image of illumination and thus holds no sway over real darkness. Greater strength from both the fear it's born from and from Daisy grants Nyctophobia more mass to work with. Nyctophobia Appearance.
Ommatophobia: The fear of eyes. This fear takes the form of a large pitch black humanoid with a massive single in place of a head. This being despite being quite large relies on less direct methods of combat due to it's overall fragility. This does not mean that this avatar is not formidable however. Ommatophobia can cause eyes to grow out of surfaces that it touches. This being can see through any eye that it creates making this avatar useful for surveillance. This avatar can also see things invisible to the naked eye such as magical auras, spirits and most things concealed magically. Last but not least this avatar can choose to paralyze those who make eye contact with it's massive central eye. This paralysis only lasts for a short amount of time. The time the paralysis lasts is longer for beings that are weaker than it and shorter for beings that are stronger than it. If it is born from a greater fear and/or should Daisy become stronger then Ommatophobia will be stronger too. Greater strength results in a longer paralysis time as well as factoring into deciding whether an opposing being qualifies for reduced paralysis time and if so by how much. Ommatophobia Appearance.
And more to come...
Naturally Daisy can only ever have a total of three avatars out at once since she needs one functioning arm in order to write the names down and should she use either her body or head she would surely die. One last thing to note is that each avatar possesses a natural connection to those from whom it's fears are derived from. They are naturally drawn to them and often seek to prey upon their fears for even greater strength. They obey Daisy first and foremost. Much like one's own body special circumstances can make their obedience somewhat questionable however. For example if they detect that Daisy is at risk of coming to harm they will immediately drop whatever they're doing and rush to her aid regardless of her orders. These avatars also possess personalities of their own, personas imposed upon them by Daisy subconsciously. They can respond to situations with their own intuition and can even banter should such an avatar possess the ability to communicate.
• Background:
Her life was far from simple.
About a year before she was born her mother had met the man who would become her father, Daniel Defoe. He was a famed artist and poet who had made his fortune through notable surrealist works. She was a major fan of his work and had sought the opportunity to meet him for some time. While he was indifferent to her in general she persisted in following him and eventually talking him into pursuing a romance with her. They continued dating for a couple months before it was discovered that she had become pregnant.
After some discussion she convinced Daniel to marry her rather than let the child be born out of wedlock. Seven months later Daisy was born. They moved to a manor just outside Miso city, an older building removed from civilization save for a single winding road down the hill their estate was perched upon. Her mother was tasked with raising the child while he continued on with his work.
Daisy's life was, well, complex. A single child she received plenty of attention as she grew up, living with plenty of money to spare. She was more or less isolated however, separated from most forms of socialization. The manor she grew up in was an old and vast complex, very dark and gloomy all around aside from the touches of modern living which have been sewn into the works. As distant as she was from everything she had one major outlet left: The Internet.
Few were the days where her head was more than a few feet from the great wide monitor of her top-end computer. Every day after returning from school she would seal herself away, shutting out the world so she can live in the comfort of her little sanctuary, playing video games and surfing the net.
_ She never liked her father. Anytime he was around he was cold, distant and sometimes rather unhinged. What her mother deemed 'Artistic Fervor' was little more than rampant mania in her young eyes. Every single time she had reached out to connect more with him it was met with tragedy and sorrow. Unable to ever please her unstable father she became more and more reclusive, barely talking to anyone within her family. Her father was mad and her mother protected his ways no matter how awful, the manor was a foreboding and dangerous place for her where she couldn't feel safe unless she was locked away in her room, her little safehaven.
One fateful day as she was exiting school she was met with a mascot, one which bestowed upon her mystical powers for she was chosen to protect this world from the forces of evil. She was skeptical at first but a cat with a tv-set for a head made a convincing case for the paranormal. Following it's instructions she was able to summon the avatars of people's desires to fight back against the nightmares. Avatars of love, goodness and friendship who fought for her with selfless devotion.
However her father began to work more from home. Since she was rarely seen around the household normally this made it easier to slip from her manor at night to do battle with nightmares. This meant she was lacking in sleep more often than not, forced to go to school after a long night's combat where she'd be unable to focus in class, too tired to study properly. While more often than not she'd have to answer to her mother pretty much anytime her father came down from his studio he'd almost certainly turn any scene into a domestic abuse case. Yelling, accusations, paranoia, beatings, Daniel was only loosely restrained by his wife's moral urging. It seemed the more life interfered with his work the less stable he'd become, turning Daisy's home-life into a constant nightmare where she couldn't predict when and exactly where her father would catch her and bombard her with such abuse.
As this continued her conviction to the cause of protecting society started to wane. She was tempted to simply scrap the whole deal seeing as she was needed to protect everyone but no one could protect her from her life at home. After one fateful battle with a nightmare however her path in the magical girl career took a sudden turn. Investigating the deceased form of a slain nightmare she accidentally managed to absorb the power it held, filling her with it's essence. She was unaware of why this happened but ever since she started to doubt the value of her cause the waning of her dedication had primed her for the change. No longer could she see the names of her avatars of good over the heads of the populace. They no longer answered her summons.
Her quill had become pitch black just like her new cloak. New names began appearing, the avatars of fear now answered her summons. No longer would the ink run down the side of the bottle to form the pools from which she summoned her servants. Now the ink flowed from her very mouth instead.
These changes were sudden and frightened her to some extent but she never found any fear greater than the cold grip that seizes her heart every time she sees that manor pulling close on her drive home, though the word home did not really fit this manor of hers. When every day was a trial just to get through without being yelled at or struck she found hunting nightmares to be more relaxing than frightening.
As she started to feed upon these nightmares more often she found her summons were growing in power. For once she felt like hunting these beings was not so much a chore but steps along the staircase of progress. Given how life was back home she figured if she could amass enough power she could break away from her family, eschew them and seize the freedom she so desperate to claim. Along this path she now walked she was brought into the Detention Club, a group for other magical girls who now drew their strength from the nightmares they defeat. While she had plenty of help already thanks to her summons she believed this might at least keep competition in check so there would be no disputes over hunting territory.
Thus Daisy begins her quest for freedom. Freedom at any cost.
• Sample Post:
Morning. That moment where the buzzer keeps buzzing 'till she slaps the snooze button, bringing blessed silence once more to her dark abode. Alas, it is morning and her mother will not relent should she linger overlong in bed. Rubbing the weariness of sleep from her eyes she rose up, clad in her soft lavender pajamas as she lit the lamp to give her some much needed light.
Her room was a mess of wires and electronics. With a television against one wall and her computer resting atop an ornate oak desk against the other the cords from both along with all her gaming stations cords formed a haphazard snake pit of plastic cables all across the floor. Her window had thick curtains as well as slates which she kept closed at all times, allowing for nary a single beam of light to disrupt her pristine darkness. Only the likes of electrical lighting were allowed to brighten her room though more often than not it was only the light of her monitor that was allowed to cast light in her domain. Not having any other sources of light however would make getting dressed a hassle so she used the lamp for her illumination needs.
Running down her morning routine she brushed her teeth, combed her hair and other such matters to take care of before getting dressed. Clad in her school clothes she stood before her room's door with trepidation. It was always harrowing for her to head down for breakfast. There was no guarantee that her father would be present at the breakfast table however the possibility that he would made it all the more worrying. No breakfast with father had ever gone down without her leaving the house wishing she was dead. Swallowing her fears she pushed open the doors and proceeded into the hall.
_ The hallways were always eerie for the manor was as large as it was empty and unkempt. Father did not trust cleaning services or almost anyone for that matter. How mother ever managed to produce a child with him always baffled her given his paranoia. Despite her bewilderment there was no helping it. His ways being the way they were left these long foreboding hallways often dust-ridden and littered with cobwebs among the rafters. Despite her mothers occasional efforts there was little helping the fact that a building this size required more than just a dutiful wife to maintain regular cleanliness.
Listening carefully she made sure there was no one approaching down the other side of the hall. With her mother likely down in the kitchen preparing breakfast the only other person to look out for was of course her father. With a lack of footsteps confirming the emptiness of the hall she minced quickly on through to the main foyer. Down the stairway she followed the smell of bacon to the breakfast table. The food was still underway so she took her seat and waited patiently.
"Good morning daughter." Her mother greeted her, carrying with her a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast for both her and herself.
"Good morning mother." She returned a formal greeting, already reaching for the silverware as her mother set the plate before her. Daisy began to try and quickly finish her meal so as to cut down on the amount of time she was risking an encounter with her father. As she heard footsteps down the main stairway out in the foyer she began eating as fast as she could earning her a glare from her mother. To her misfortune a piece of bacon fractured off and was accidentally inhaled resulting in Daisy having to stop, cough repeatedly and then down a glass of water to help clear the fleshy debris out and sooth her agitated lungs.
Having barely eaten more than a quarter of her eggs and half a strip a bacon the door to the dining room opened. Her father, a tall pale man with sharp features dressed in a black suit with a crimson tie and jet black hair, approached and took his seat at the head of the table.
"Ultana?" He looked to his wife, his face a cold deadpan stare. His voice was stern yet uncomfortably soft like a cross between a history professor and a serial killer. He slowly gestured to the empty space before him, indicating the notable lack of breakfast before him.
"Oh. I thought you wished to eat up in your study." She had planned to bring breakfast up to his room after Daisy was off to school but it seemed he had other plans.
"No." He answered tersely, eyebrows knit with annoyance already.
"Ah. I-I'll bring you a plate." With that her mother was off to the kitchen to quickly assemble another plate of food along with some coffee though that might take a bit longer than the food since she had prepared it to be ready a bit later than anticipated.
_ There Daisy sat, slowly finishing off the strip of bacon while the air between her and her father grew ever colder with the lingering silence. A chill ran up her spine when he turned his focus towards her, looking at her for what felt like an eternity before glancing down to his pockets.
Oh no She realized in a flash of panic. He's reaching for it With that thought she could only look on and try to suppress the growing pit of fear in her stomach that was growing exponentially as he retrieved it from his pockets.
A photograph. He looked down at it before looking up at Daisy who was looking down at her hands, trying her best not to make eye contact while acting normal despite knowing full well what comes next. He stood from his chair and walked over to her, bringing her eyes up to him. They faintly glistened with the beginnings of tears as he looked down, his face unchanged like an unfeeling mask as his gaze flitted from the photograph to her.
"Look at this photograph." He turned the photograph to her. It was a picture of a skeleton. She looked at it and then back up at him, looking for some kind of reaction. It was the same picture of the same skeleton he had shown her numerous times before and every time he showed her this photo he would grow angry with her refusal to acknowledge his photo despite the fact she's seen the photo and no matter what she said no reaction ever pleased him. She swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking.
"I- I've looked at the photograph father." She stated nervously, trying to hide the fact she was nervous despite the slight stuttering and increased perspiration. Looking to his face she could already see the displeasure forming within his expression.
"Look. At. This. Photograph." He repeated him self slowly, halting shortly after each word for added emphasis. He shoved the picture closer to her face as if she were missing some facet of the photo that required closer analysis. She took a step back and moved her head away, none too keen to have items thrust at her face.
"Father, please! I have looked at your photograph! I've looked at it every other time you've brought it out! I don't understand what you want me to do!" She protested, taking her eyes off the photograph and looking up to her father. She had this gut feeling that it would fail but she really hoped that logic might win out this time. Her hope was in vain. A snarl took to his lips as he looked down, his temper growing with this token resistance from his daughter.
"Look at the goddamn photograph!" With his voice raised he roughly grabbed her by her long autumn orange hair and brought the photograph right up to her face so it'd be impossible for her to look away. With a short note of pain at having her hair yanked so brusquely she batted the hand with the photograph away from her face on reflex.
Outrage flashed across his expression the moment brought her hands upon the photograph. In that very same instant he released her hair and instead struck the side of her face with his now open hand. The force of the blow caused her feet to slip out from under her as she slammed into the edge of the table before collapsing to the floor. She held the sides of her head both to protect herself from further strikes and to hold her head as it was now throbbing with pain. She pushed herself up into a sitting position against the legs of a chair and looked up to see her father looming over her, one hand tightly clenched while the other one continue to hold the slightly bent photograph.
_ "You plebeian scum!" He shouted in offense, turning his eyes back to the photograph. He placed the photo against the table top and briefly pressed over it with his thumb to try and flatten it out. Taking his hand off the photo he looked back at her, fists quivering with anger.
"How dare you..." He raised a clenched fist, about to strike Daisy yet again.
"Daniel, don't!" Her mother, having returned only to happen upon the scene taking place, cried out with the hope of staying his hand. Swiftly setting his plate of food aside she rushed over to the two of them. He turned to her and returned his hand to his side, teeth still grit with rage.
"Why? No matter how I try this worthless whelp is still naught but an uncultured swine!" He barked his response, gesturing dramatically to Daisy who was getting up off the floor, still holding her face with her head low to try and draw less attention to herself lest she draw more ire.
"Please Daniel, she cannot go to school with bruise marks on her face." Trying to remain the voice of reason in the presence of an unreasonable man Ultana spoke in a calm but serious tone.
"School!? Bah!" Stuffing the photograph back into his pocket he started striding away from the table, his back turned on the two of them. "I often wonder if I should've made you have an abortion instead back then. To think such a child of mine would be such a simpleton. Insulting."
"Daniel..." His words cut them both deep. For Ultana she felt sorrow for hearing his bitterness towards their child. For Daisy no matter how badly she detested the man the fact her own biological father believed she should never have been born still hurt her more than his hands had. It was impossible to turn her back and simply weather this abuse from him since no matter how badly he abused her in the past each and every time hurt no less than the first. For her he was but an old wound that would always reopen, never to heal.
She could stand his vile words no longer. She got up and fled the room, quickly rushing out to the car. Getting inside she sat down and rested her aching face into her palm, her wavy orange hair cascading over her face and fingers, effectively concealing both in it's volume.
Eventually after talking her father down until he returned to his study she quickly gathered up her daughters backpack and lunch bag. Placing the lunch bag within the backpack she brought Daisy's belongings out to her.
"Here you go my daughter." Daisy did not even acknowledge her presence as she set the bag in the car next to her. No matter how often she tried there was no convincing her mother just how awful a man her father truly was. While she still loved her as her mother loved her back it was truly infuriating how blind she was to Daniel's insanity.
"I... I'm sorry. His artistic fervor gets the better of him sometimes." Her mother apologized for his behavior but Daisy would hear none of it. She simply sighed into her hands, breath shuddering from the adrenaline which saturated her bloodstream. Seeing her still feeling bitter over the incident her mother felt it was best to simply let her be so she can cool off on the way to school. Stepping back from the opening she shut the car door and instructed their driver to take her on her way.
As the trees flitted past the window she looked out to the passing wilderness, blue skies stretching into the horizon. This was not the first day to begin like this and were she to remain it would never be her last. There was no way she could keep this up, not like this.
I can say that that magic is too powerful. For a number of reasons in fact. Not only are those Avatars too numerous (making her way more flexible powerwise than any other girl), their combination of powers can lead to broken effects with ease.
- Disturbing activation imagery aside, the ability to effectively read people's mind and find out their fears on a constant basis can lead to a lot of roleplaying problems, especially since no one is likely to keep that information at hand the whole time as well as the fact that any effect that involving probing other people's minds comes out as borderline godmodding. I'm not saying this is your intention, but this is what it it's from a GM POV.
- Death does attacks that negate any sort of defense and can phase through almost anything, making the fight a seriously one-sided deal.
- Burying people alive is a big, big nope. That's way too lethal.
- Thunder is mostly ok.
- Iron maiden is nope, not only it involves body horror, it's also extremely lethal.
- Pain is ok as long as it can be stopped somehow, instead of growing infinitely more powerful by soaking damage.
- The spider is ok, but again, it's delving too far into disturbing imagery.
- Darkness is pretty ok.
- Eyes are also pretty ok, but again, delving too deep into both body horror and disturbing imagery.
I guess that you should reevaluate your idea for this character. Despite the fact that this is a dark magical girl story, it doesn't mean that it's made to be disturbing and or uncomfortable for anyone playing. Not only the themes, but also the imagery on your CS are very, very hard to deal with. Fear based powers are a good idea but it doesn't mean that your character should be a walking nightmare.
Also, the fact that she doesn't seem like she would mingle in a Japanese high school, is a pretty big problem, since the RP takes place on Japan. As a Westerner, she's pretty out of place, unless there's a reason for her to be there which your backstory doesn't seem to mention.