OP
SweetCinderella
Member
Seen
9 yrs ago
Note:Some things, or in this case some appearance, are better left unknown
Unknown – Centuries Old
Gender
Male
Species
Demon
Pure Demon
Most Used Power
As the ‘Wish Master’ it can be rather difficult to determine the variation of his powers. Some say that he is unable to grant any wish for himself akin to a genie. Though where his Wish-Granting powers originated from are yet to be revealed. It’s not often one sees him use magic/powers directly – rather he uses it in a very inconspicuous manner. However Sir Seil’s manipulation of shadows is grand. He is the Shadow. He is one of the few skilled enough to use both forms Shadow and Human simultaneously – which makes me an extremely dangerous opponent. He is able to puppeteer the shadows in any way we wishes, having the power to physically materialise. When his Shadows do materialise they usually appear in the form of a disjointed and angular humanoid with no facial features. They crawl out from the shadows in the surrounding area and do his bidding.
In regards to the reaction that demons suffer when purity surrounds them Mr. Seil has a rather high tolerance. That’s not to say that he doesn’t suffer from headaches and nausea for he does, it is merely scarce. When it comes to his darling wife Rosalina, whose purity is extreme it is his love for her that overrules any negative reactions to stir within him. Only on the odd occasion should she be rather problematic and difficult does it affect him – however only mildly.
Significant/Special Belongings
A slick black cane topped with a giant ruby
His Delicate Wife – Rosalina
Fighting Skills/Techniques
Reficul will usually attempt to dispel the conflict prior or have another fight his physical battle – nothing to do with strength he merely likes to think of himself as more sophisticated than that. However should it arise in which he has no choice but to clash A formidable opponent Mr. Seil does stand - quite a smart fighter. Using the shadows and his materialisations he will usually have several of these creatures fighting for him. They entities are high in strength, speed and agility. They use their sharp claws to slice through even the toughest of Troll skin. They can completely devour an individual and surround them in complete darkness. They can be defeated though means of sheer brawl however the best defence one can have is The Light.
It is only in extreme circumstances that Mr. Seil will use his Demonic form.
Weapon of Choice
His disjointed and angular humanoid shadow creatures.
Shadow Appearance
The Wish Master
Leader of the Carnival
Head Ring Master
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
All of them…
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
I am the Carnival
Personality:
Mr Seil, most times, retains an extraordinarily magnetic charm or appeal – defining him as exceptionally charismatic is an understatement. His ability to provoke loyalty in his subordinates through his charm and influence parallels to none. A craft manipulator he influences the behaviour and thoughts of others for his own benefit; to control being a major reason. People become tools that are acquired, used, and cast aside. Mr. Seil is explicitly mindful and awake of his manipulation skills. Pragmatic, logical and free of agitation his mind is and thus succeeding comes naturally and can tackle numerous dilemmas without the interference of emotions; being more inclined to internal thought than external expression. A perfectionist he tolerates nothing below formality and excellence in his presence and consequently generally has unrealistic expectations of others and himself. He will also discipline without compromise if he sees fit. Arrogant in his gifted abilities there exists and air of mystery that surrounds one Mr. Seil and people tend to gravitate towards him.
Note: though his temper is well controlled it is not something one wishes to witness. Cruel, malicious and evil take a new form in Mr. Seil.
Biography:
Dubbed the ‘Wish Master’ at an early age, Mr. Reficul Seil’s origins or beginnings are obscure and mysterious, known only to him, those of towering rank and those he cherry-picks. Thus his age can only be presumed. A sophisticated and educated demon of stringent demeanor he’s rather difficult to impress. Fret not he does about taking affairs into his own hands often.
How he managed to gain permission to manage such a carnival is beyond anyone. He’s main goal in life is to collect souls, however for reasons unknown. Is he collecting them for someone else? Is he in debt? Is Mr. Seil simply a soul collector? These things all add to the mystery that is Reficul Seil.
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ N/A~
‘No Comment’
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ♥♥♥ ~
‘Perfect. Beautiful. Pure. Sweet. Enchanting. Mine.’
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☺ ~
‘Theatrical. Over-the-top. Psychotic. Unbalanced. Favourable. Amusing.’
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
‘Questionable. Motives Undetermined. Conceited. Obnoxious. Intelligent.’
Arina Lécuyer ~ ◑/☺ ~
‘Unchaste. Deceitful. Immature. Friendly. Respective.’
Soren Novák ~ ☺ ~
‘Gluttonous. Reliable. Trustworthy. Loyal.’
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺ ~
‘Slothful. Intellectual. Humours. Rational. Balanced.’
Reira Masin ~ ◑ ~
‘Naive. Air-brained. Humble. Disposable. Useless.’
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑/☺ ~
‘Scheming. Carefree. Dependable. Knowledgeable. Useful.’
Ty ~ ☺ ~
‘Considerate. Kind. Faithful. Responsible. Akin to a Daughter.’
Imalia ~ ◑/☺ ~
‘Manipulative. Treacherous. Unreliable. Striking.’
Jing Lao ~ ☺ ~
‘Calm. Civilized. Well-Mannered. Polished. Considerate.’
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
‘Determined. Gritty. Fabricated. Functional.’
Antoine ~ ☺ ~
‘Mentally disharmonized. Pensive. High Morality. Tenacious. Respectable.’
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
‘Senseless. Uncertain. Resilient. Yet to Prove Self.’
Angoriel ~ ☺ ~
‘Unhinged. Sensitive. Honourable. Beneficial.’
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☺ ~
‘Gentle. Sweet. True to her Race. Not Rosalina.’
Jassesi ~ ☺ ~
‘Cute. Loud. Sweet. Wounded.’
Genvieve ~ ◑ ~
‘Animalistic. Risqué. Unpredictable. Useful.’
Robin ~ ☺ ~
‘Dear. Precious. Flexible. Forever-Lost. Sad.’
Jayce ~ ☺ ~
‘Dicey. Handy. Notable. Entertaining. Gutless at times.’
26 (Angel years)
(1 Angel Year = 10 Human Years)
Gender
Female
Species
Angel
Level of Contamination
Low – Close to none
Level of Glow
Grand
Wings
Please See Biography
Ability to Blend
Difficulty concealing both her wings and intense glow- Mr. Seil usually conceals it for her
Most Used Power
Rosalina Bell outshines in the elements of air and water; this therefore draws her closer to the power of light. She shines by means of curative charms; healing powers.
Significant/Special Belongings
The two diamond wedding rings that she possesses (one from her former husband and one from Mr. Seil; however she is only permitted to wear the The Wish Masters)
Weapon of Choice
If any dares attempt tussle, one answers to Mr. Seil
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
One Century
Personality
Due to Rosalina Bell’s pure and untainted temperament, she exists as sickly sweet. Her delicate, high voice doesn’t vocalize unless necessary. She ascertains that she is a female, the frail gender, and that her position in being is submission to a male in which case he will offer protection. She displays excessive fondness or tenderness through action and deed; she is highly affectionate and she has come to be quite motherly to a lot of those in debt. She has a knack of making those around her feel special and valued. She is marked by unaffected simplicity; a little bit naïve – making her easy to like and protect. Awfully easy to startle to fright Rosalina is extremely delicate and exceedinly fragile.
Although Rosalina does not deem everyone to be of equal value she does not act in a way that is demeaning, even when she is being belittled. When engaging in a hostile encounter, Rosalina, akin to a true angel, will attempt to bring accordance before battle. Her affiliation with others is gracious and welcoming – and should one be in need of assistance, be it physical, emotion or mental she is more than willing to provide (that also applies to the collection of souls, she is more than willing to act as an advocate). Due to the blood that flows through her veins she can at times appear to be very difficult to connect with, following her train of thought is easier said than done.
Biography
Born into aristocracy Rosalina glistens with purity. Since she was infantile Rosalina was edified in the ways of primeval and rather chauvinist behaviour and ideologies. She has been educated in the original traditions of the angels, predominantly due to her father being an adjudicator of the high court. Rosalina’s chauvinist behaviour is also profoundly influenced due to the lack of her mother who was exiled for heresy by her own husband. High Judge Romiel, Rosalina’s father, was obligated to banish his wife due to her immersed involvement in one of the holy wars. High Judge Romiel forbid even the slightest chance that Rosalina would trail her mother’s footprints and thus as soon as he banished his wife he set about educating his daughter as traditionally as possible. In addition to her teachings a, very timeworn tradition was implemented on her and she had her wings removed as a child.
Upon her commencement of becoming a woman she, like all, fell in love and found a life of bliss. Happily married with her adored husband, she birthed two children, twins. However a dark shadow was cast over her life the moment Mr. Seil’s carnival decided to make an appearance in Azure, the magical realm.
Without second thought, Rosalina thought she would take her twin children to see the fabulous carnival, unknowing it would start a course of events to alter her perfect life. Obsessed and fixated with the delicate being his eyes laid upon, Mr Seil vowed to own her. Thus soon after a visit to the carnival the events started. First was the death of her husband; mysterious and sudden. Second was the illness of her children. The sneakiness that Mr. Seil sustains, came into play when he made a extemporaneous appearance and offered her the health and long, safe life of her twin children if she sold herself, mind, body and soul to him and became his wife.
Rosalina’s relationship with The Wish Master can be difficult to interpret for she appears to be extremely fond of the man and has even fallen in love with him. However there has been few cases in which Rosalina has attempted to flee only to be caught.
23
Gender
Male
Species
Half Demon & Half Siren
Most Used Power (Demonic and Siren)
Andracos, having been born of a demon and siren, sustains the ability to manipulate both the elements and a deadly attraction power. Since his main source of power stems from the poison that flows in his blood, he has learnt some elemental poison magic stemming from earth and water. The advantages of grasping these two elements have allowed this demon/siren to manipulate his true power of poison to perilous degrees. He sustains the ability to turn water to a death drink without any hint of alteration. The talent of complete paralysis with a single bite. A single scratch of his nail allows for injection. Andracos can be seen wearing gloves at all times, only taking them off when wishing to poison another with his claws. He seems to surprise vastly with his venomous abilities. In regards to his attraction powers he is able to release a love hormone similar to oxytocin which provokes feelings of euphoria and to manipulate it as he sees fit.
Significant/Special Belongings
Himself
Fighting Skills/Techniques
“The flow of blood gushing like a stream out of wounds is ever such a dainty sight” Andracos
Theatrical combat; a multi-disciplinary performance art that combines brawling with elements of fencing, martial arts, dance, music and melodramatic movement to allow the fracas to appear rehearsed and choreographed.
Weapon of Choice
His cane and generally anything he can get his hands on
Job Title & Description
Snake Charmer
Advertiser/Attractor of various stalls
Magician
Anything he feels like on the day
Number of Souls You Have to Collect
800 000 (Original contract)
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
100
What Was Your Wish?
To produce /unleash his demonic side & form (Original contract)
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
800 000 + (bound to be all)
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
250 years
How the Collection of Souls has affected your character (negatively or positively):
“Distress or anguish thy for merely collecting souls? I think not.”
Rather pleased with himself that he does so very well – no other mental or emotion stress.
Personality:
"If thou dost lack in desire, thy simply ought to harvest it from the foliage and if thy so desire ‘Pretty Polly’ thou has thy way with she.”
Charming and very charismatic, Andracos can have any girl swoon over him. Charming, engaging, theatrical Andracos is very much a lady’s man. Unfortunately it is not good thing should he take an interest in one. Beaten, raped and murdered is generally how a girl will be found when Andracos takes an interest in them. Nevertheless he’s quite the romantic, and is seeking the perfect female – one he doesn’t deem a dirty whore worthy of being raped. The sick thing is that majority of females attempt to be that girl. Despite being a rapist and murderer, Andracos has a strangely innocent, schoolboy-like charm. Andracos perpetrates gruesome acts of violence for no better reason, it seems, than that he likes to. Andracos himself doesn’t have a better explanation for his actions. Simply taking pleasure in being evil the way other people take pleasure in being good. He explains that he enjoys seeing blood flow and calls it “beautiful” or “lovely. He enjoys the power he has over people, even his fellow hoodlums. Though at times he feels sad and low, he doesn’t appear to feel any empathy with his victims. The violent life is just a feel-good game to him.
Biography:
His sexy siren mother was viciously raped by a sinister demon and from the moment he was conceived, Andracos’ mother feared him. Thus he was orphaned at a young age by his mother, Andracos grew up on the rough streets of the underworld. Being forced to learn survival at such a young age results with him being true fighter; street smart.
Andracos was 6 years old when he found himself without a mother and without a home. He has never remembered what horrible deed he committed in order to scare his mother so much that she abandoned him. Soon after his initiation into the streets he found himself imprisoned by a group of adrift vampires. He had multiple uses to them through the years of imprisonment – a blood source, a sexual toy, a slave, a haggling tool. Whatever ‘evil’ had scared his mother was, for that time, suppressed. He saw and experienced a side of the underworld that not many do. It was when he was 10 years of age that the suppressed evil that lurked inside him erupted and he slaughtered each of his imprisoners. Peacekeepers rushed to the ghastly scene and believed not the words that Andracos spoke about being their prisoner – the reasoning why, to this very day, that he despises Peacekeepers. It is hard to decipher whether or not his psychological state is due to his bloodline, his abandonment, his imprisonment or all three.
He found himself constantly fleeing - he found himself very lonesome and yearned not to be.
For over 10 years Andracos was a powerful leader of the unwanted - developing a rather hefty criminal gang of similar delinquents whilst on the streets, ‘The Valach’. There is not a soul in the underworld who knows not of this criminal gang. However greed got the better of Andracos and upon hearing of the Wish Master, Andracos sort him out in order to gain more power and skills, wishing to manipulate more of his demonic nature with ease.
Andracos has completed his contract - he completed it rather fast actually. He only stays now so as to assist Pachid with completing his quota. Because of the notion that he is not bound by contract he has the impression that the rules of the carnival apply not to him – however this is not the case and because of his ‘ways’ Mr. Seil will not promote him to a commander.
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ Depends on the day ☺ or ☠ ~
Question my judgments on the grandiose Ring Master of this ostentatious cirque? Well if the duty be de rigueur. Imposing and pompous he stands tall… Tall, tall, tall as a lamppost and as lean. Sovereignty, power and authority do light his path; every step he should take it surely does follow.
I promote all our convene with thou; esprit de corps! In possession of esteemed traits he is. Unaltered reverence I do have for the Wish Master. He dost prevail as dominant and leading – for he answers to nil and none. Forever overshadowing others, his hand relentlessly rests on the destiny and even downfall of all – nonetheless at no time doest he abuse such a thing. Mannerism in which Andracos venerates. The affiliation shared between the two Ring Master and I at times be bosom buddies and at others times adversaries. Broadcast others do that shine my eyeballs a garish green for him; envious or jealous. And to them I proclaim without affront, “Absolutely right, right you are! Accurate, it is true!” For you see, dearest droogs, freedom is not what thy years for. Liberty is longer not desired.
Supersede I now crave. Take I will, all that is his.
Replacement, yes?
The unyielding power!
The prevailing authority!
Command of such a spectacle
Riposte to none and no.
Least thy disremember, the angel that shall cometh with.
Freedom for doll? Oh no, no – never!
She too will be mine.
Grand, Grand, Grand it will be!
And it will happen.
His slayer will be I
I merely ought to apply time.
And all of you, shall too, be mine.
Rosaline Bell Seil~ ♥♥♥ ~
Rosalina? My Princess, you ask of? Welly, well - fairly flabbergasted I stood - a tranced statue I was upon our first encounter. Upright twas I, dumbfounded beyond all measure. Outlandish I must’ve seemed. What be erroneous with thou, surely she considered? Never, not once, had my eyes lain upon something so perfect and untainted. And do believe me when thy pronounces that, for voluminous amounts of ‘pretty polly’s’ have I mulled over. Not a single fault exists within her. She exists as incorruptible, even though residing in such an abode. Flawless she survives. Sees all she does through her inner world of observations. The greatest advocate any can have within dwell here. And do, I do, indorse that notion to all, so do take note! One’s utmost supporter she will be. I acknowledge that obsession has befallen me with this angel. Addiction and crave but nil for anything bad happening. Oddly nil and night sickness befalls me wheneth in her presence for how can such a thing disgust or revolt one? Ever request my heart, should she – tear it out, rip, rip, rip and serve it to her on a silver platter.
It be, this angel everything, oh everything Andracos desires, yearns for in a significant other. Though did I, only in dreams did such existence live. Found her I did – live, breathe for it. The moment will come when it becomes mine, my possession. I want it! I yearn for it! I desire it to be mine! And it will – oh undoubtedly mine it will be. And love, love, love – at long last true love will be mine!
Andracos Soleviel ~ ♥♥♥ ~
Thy requests opinion on self? My, my, my, park yourself down thy comrade and allow uncle Andracos to verbalize. In all candour, I have such reasons to be conceited; why there exists not single fad that I fault in performance, perceptibly or introspectively. For me mental, physical and emotional powers exceeds that of all beings – being humble and self-effacing is far too much effort when one stands as impressive and brilliant as I.
My physique, oh my physique – I grant attractiveness a complete new level of definition. Breathe thy breathe of pristine onto a mirror simply to observe the beauty of thy own breathe. In comparison to the lion’s share, Andracos be stronger and greater. Outstandingly and dazzlingly more handsome and suave. Worthier, the salt of the mere earth. Accredited by twain love, affection and hate, revulsion – no other way will Andracos ever fancy it. Hanker doeth I to craft a altering in others – specifically females. Fevor doeth to provoke destruction; debasement; damage to the weaker sex.
Undeniably I relish the love and adoration they provide prior to the defilement. My presence, mere existence renders all dealings and events further valuable. Endeavour to live by nil rules and regulations for they be ever so hampering – one misses all the true pleasure, tis be the cause of clash amongst Ring Master and I. But what is mere chastisement for pleasure and enjoyment. Andracos doest as he pleases forever more – never-ending shall it is.
The amazingness that resides within I has endorsed Andracos to accomplished said quota far before allocated time frame therefore rulebooks apply not to Andracos. One cannot exhausted or shatter Andracos – not demon, angel, vampire, werewolf or any for I am superior. Enigmatic and alluring beyond all others for charisma flows through my veins and is a part of me forever and always. Detestation and revulsion follows me every step thy takes; nevertheless as does devotion; with my own bunch of delinquents; the Valach whom do as I say in addition to whomever I desire. Familiarity encircles my given name; I am known by all. Thy dost what thy dost and thy do dost it glowing.
Oh how I relish the slaughter and massacre of any and all – primary the so-called innocent. The explosion that releases within thy is so extreme it be addictive, parallel to blood for a vampire. I reminisce the moment wheneth I became the malefactor – arh the moment my truth self, my calling emerged. Mental pictures I have seized, with a wink acting as a flash, the brains my victims emerging from their own ears – one cannot abandon another anymore lifeless. The need to murder, rape, defile, torture and so on is a part of thy. Cannot be of Andracos’ fault that demon blood flows powerfully through me for the devil be my sponsor for he stood alongside me bed wheneth I came into this world and stand by for moreover more – the devil himself.
All this be the raison d'être why I unremittingly feign a bogus diadem upon thy cranium. Magnificent is my mere existence and it would be wise for you to dote upon it. Should one suffer from a daydream of defeating or offending thou; it best to awake and apologise to thy.
For I am by far your superior.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ☠ ~
Christ, where doeth I even commence my wording for this prat? Awfully fresh to the cirque’ howbeit accurate my sapience prevails. Evidently brought to life within an affluent, robust and pretentious household - deprived or denied of nothing. Be credulous this brat doest that his status pedestals him here. Ha, hilarious for his eminence here be equal to the jumble that drifts in the air. Prove, demonstrate and climb the ladder must he for any value – but has none does he, thus point is irreverent. The persona that engulfs the prat, ‘the spoilt-brat’ aura oozes off him - it drowns the air surrounding him and dawdles. Fly, fly, fly into the conk of all and down, down, down the throat and lingers in the lungs of all whom inhale it, producing biliousness. My compulsion greatens to rip this fallen one apart limb by limb. And thy will. Irrefutably cowardice runs flows through him – a most notable quitter, weakling.
He hath nil one good quality. He be a akin to a deformed, rapid werewolf whose sole intent be to destroy its own tail.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ☺ ~
Thou little gypsy lamb? Our first encounter ‘twas not at the carnival. Oh, no, no, no. At that time, in the past, survive she did, as a fortune teller in her cart, travelling around and around. Know now I do that she sees the crystal – dead, dead, dead she would be if her life depended on reading an accurate fortune. Anyhow, Attempted hoodwink upon me – faulty fortune. I saw, sharp eyes, observed the scam. Conversely the little gypsy slipped through my venomous hands before a lecture and more could be given. Her sagacity allows for her to detect dangerousness and gravity; mine in particular. Latch she does to things stronger than she, educated I am, through the carnival. Hoodwink upon Mr. Seil twice, I do believe – catch he will the next time round. Her time has drawn to an end twice with not enough souls. Though, here she stays – relish it I deem she. Like many, a home she has here and a family, accepting of her ways. On and off I find my approval of she. Though, a hand of mine shall never befall her. Many deem her a whore though I can say with all truth she shall spread a lie much fast and wider than she’ll spread her legs. Nevertheless her availability to the man renders her worthless and practically a piece of rubbish – in demand of a fresh pastime that comprises not the with schlong of a man.
Undoubtable the girl is a complete and utter blockhead and once must never ague with such a being for that idiot shall heave and yank you with all their might down to their equal and shall defeat one with their sheer stupidity – and Arina be rather practiced with such a thing. Oh certainly not against thy, merely observed many a case.
An amusement Arina is to me, without the need to slay or lay her down.
Soren Novák ~ ☠ ~
Pft, the self-regarding one with never-ending pride? Such an improper one. Though his self-importance may fetch him trouble. I advise not in sharing his dogma with me; I care not. I fret not over the little to-be demon, he is of no bother. Nauseating to my core, at times he does make me – believing himself more charismatic than I. Yes, yes factual it is that few have befallen his smile, but roll my eyes do, for I too wooed the same. Swaggering, halt her never will until he has what he desire. But even he know not. “Desire it all!” he proclaims. A waist of existence, my belief, is of he. Greed, hunger and self-indulgence will be his undoing. He knows not, why still residing at the carnival he is – another flaw of his persona.
In fact I do believe I look forward to our next encounter – we’ll see what he hurls in my direction.
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺ ☺ ~
The spiritless character that stands as my superlative comrade? Towering levels of respect and value for him I have – in spite of the dejectedness of his character. Focused completely internally is Pachid’s primary mode of living – the opposed to thyself. Stimulate and kindle my appeal to him it does. My voice of reason – act he does as thy conscience. Believe many do that I, Andracos, not have a conscience, but oh, actually I do, I do – though rarely listen I do to my guide. Does not he, play my games with me. Never, not ever. Though it flows all the way through his breed from head to toe, exist not it does in his veins; violence that is. His birth-right it is, as a prowler of the night, but still does not subsist within him. Allurement it is for me, my opposite. He be an remarkable comrade and by thy side for time long. Encounter him itinerant, underfed, nameless and homeless and indubitably I Andracos adopted him. Vast mainstream of folks can surpass as cool; however plentiful run-through and dexterity one must have in order to be splendid and Pachid, well permit thy to announce his prodigious.
I shall defend his honour with every fibre of my being.
Stefan Bostock ~ ☠ ~
That overweening weasel! Narc! Stool pigeon squealer! Yearn and crave, crave, crave the tick and tock wheneth, I, Andracos can slice and chiv the throat of the rat. Further than snap his neck. I desire to viddy the red, red croovy gush and spurt similar to a brook down and through the earth. Daresay Stefan be crafty and devious – when it be, for truth and veracity – nil such a fact. A leech, clasp disdain doeth I for him alike countless for vampires. Suckle on every and all polly and jolly. The bloodsuckers species, vampires holdeth, greatly further modesty than he. Least I disremember the mongrel survives as a rabble-rouser – stirs the cauldron of trouble. Quotation “observe reactions” – pfft he shall observe my reaction upon my shaker clambering and penetrating his pharynx – gnarling and shredding until his tissue fill the underneath of my nails. The ridicule that he releases is eternally so wearisome.
I ought to pronounce that I shall not be held liable for wrenching his tongue out, crafting a noose and departing him whilst he hangs writhing for ventilation.
Reira Masin ~ ♥ ~
A week less, she has been at the carnival. Little, naive human. Wonder I do, if aware she is of what she is in for here. Noble, I admit, unlike the vast array of others, her motive for being here is. But enough of that, care not I do for the girl. Mortals are too cherished by I to toy with. Oh, ever so easy and stress-free it is to mislead them. To delude them and fabricate kindness – never does one observe the serpent that is right under their nose. And when they ever do, time has betrayed and too late it is for them to act against. Save her, I believe I will set aside she, for that moment in time future when in need I am of a swift and informal target to amuse me. Though slay her I will not. Alive, alive, alive I will keep this one, for have I will, an endless supply of an easy victim.
Ponder and deliberate for Andracos’ future needs I do – for deprivation shall not become of me.
Ty ~ ♥♥~
Arh, she whom is made of air, Miss Air? With illuminating eyes and the contrast of hair? Black and Blue! I desire to knowth exactly how laughter burst from her. I yearn to knowth what composes tears to swell in her blue, blue eyes. Give, give, give I will and do. A charming smile to ease her distress. Her knight in glistening armour will be I. My physic of tight muscle will waver she, my skin of colour ivory and mouth so alluring, curse me she will for it. Hair as sleek as the night itself and eyes a venomous yellow she will see not. And the time will cometh when braid our cells together do, like living thread. Heart of hers will crack open, craving to migrate and merge with mine – it will, it will. It always does, whenever I will it. But then a twist in fate, for I am the evil one; the antagonist to her tale that is life. Stare I will, ever so darkly, so avidly that nod will be her only movement. And after, a never-ending sleep will be her only wish. And never she will remove the thoughts, the whispers will coo in her mind and she will hear it in the breeze.
She shall question - did he rape my head too?
This ones, deserving beyond the regular pursuit, beyond the regular hunting – a game it is for me to woo and then destroy.
Imalia ~ ◑ ~
Arh – the outdated one of my kind. Yes, exist as beautiful I admit openly however her beauty be only skin deep for it does not reach her soul. Factual she is to her class; a perfect description. There be naught unique about her for all that is to be acknowledged can be read in any accurate book. Cousins our breeds exist, resulting in immunity from allurement. Candidly nil of a curiosity has, I, Andracos in any breed that does run parallel to my own – sirens. A thought struck my mind like lightening – perhaps Mr. Seil be a collector of sorts. Endeavouring to have contracted any and all species. Put past him such a thing I would not. Doubt highly do I that this siren of the sea shall full-fill her contract resulting in permanent ownership by the Wish Master.
Jing Lao ~ ◑ ~
Haha, the china man whom be oddly feminine? Exceptionally well mannered and I do prize that in such individuals. However, feel do I, Andracos, that this china man knows nothing behind tranquillity. And a pity it would be should one not feel the heat of true anger, to not embrace the touch of a lover and to not know the blues of sadness. An incomplete life that would be and feel I do, that be his life. Waste be that of a life. Pity really. Though title him with the adjective of ‘pretty’ which be few and far between. When doest thy eyes graze over such one subdue the itch and craving to strangle him. I know not the seed of such urge. The sound that snapping the neck off little man would please grandly I. Notion seed perhaps that of mere dislike. Unknown be it to thy otherwise.
Aside from said notion I have little to voice about little china man.
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
This leech! Species is practically a parasite. Tranquil and serene be her outward appearance, a lack of opinion within she. Bleed, bleed her eye sockets doeth with determination and purpose alas for what even she knows not. Her dearth of squabble be sound within a place like the carnival. As doest her graciousness – it be sagacious for a female here. Apathetic be she to practically all things and everything. A miserable manner survival frankly; disparateness be such a waste. Disbelieves in any form of pyramid - consequence with the conception that she herself has nil significance. Contribute zilch to civilization, she entitled to zilch in return – pitiable leech. Nonentity she survives, she be a miserable one. End the desolation one ought to and with swift.
Aurelianus “Antoine” Anterirois ~ ◑ ~
Arh, yes, the Angel Slayer – in limelight be his name and undeniably Andracos be impressed alas his this fool be drowning in internal conflict. Disgraceful be him for what demon clenches disdain for his natural ways. Embrace thou blood-traits! It be thou birth-right! Miserable be it to grieve over natural actions. Confliction should not befall him it be rather pitiful. Enthrallment over ‘Malignitas’ even withal the source of his extreme cognizance. Perchance comrades Angel Slayer and Andracos would have been, countless times in past tense wheneth he was one with his soul. Oh hunting perhaps we might have gone together; chase for the kill. Alas that be nil such an occurrence – merely be fanciful. Oh shame, shame, shame – pity, pity, pity. Aside his demonic abandonment thy clutches zilch animosity or rancour against thou. Nonbelligerent – at least at present time.
Believe doest I this Conflicted One may well make harmony with the scythe belongeth to The Seer; Pale Death. Do so, oh so afore his internal skirmish extirpates his soul; destroys him. Liberate him; save him the pain and suffering.
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
The male human; mortal. In all honesty find him rather feebleminded based off his desire. Doest retain silence for he disturbs none – least to witness thy. Seemingly his social capabilities and aptitudes be fairly damaged and impaired. Sensible be he, suspicious and wary with whom he trusts – it be wise whilst dwelling here. Fetch, fetch, fetch scorn shall his blood-line, in addition to his gender for sexism dwells prominently within this fair. Curiosity becomes of thy, can little mortal man hold his own? In proprietorship of charmed armament thus undeniably the means be there. Doest naught mean he be adept plenty for such a bauble. Rigid, my, my, my, lord, lord, lord – he be inflexible and unimpeachably in dire need of female attention.
Risqué one, Arina! Oh Arina! Services here be required.
Furthermore peanuts be thy attitude towards spoken one – suppose do I that cometh with existing as a human.
Angoriel ~ ☠ ~
That one? That Tartarus Angel… Oh how long do I to see his crimson gore flow like a dainty stream along the earth. His presence wraths me. Agitation by his mere name. Go back to your station Tartarus! Fly, fly in return to Urbaniel, whereth you belong – Tartarus slave. That all be he and his kind – slave. ‘Oh wo is thy for here only to wish freedom for my brothers and sisters.’ Make better use of the mutt thy believe our grand Wish Master should – guard, slave – whatever our hearts desire. 56 measly years he be here at our home and still in contract. But oh how great and grand he deems his abilities. Slay already and collect said number of souls and remove yourself from thy family for not wanted be you. Veritably one more disaccorded one – ha ha. Ought this one and Angel Slayer, Antoine unite and anchor a ceremony of tea and crumpets; Andracos shall be the Mad Hatter.
Why dost magnificent Andracos loath him so? Simple – because thy can.
Sarah Hiddle ~ ♥~
Oh, the alternative to Rosalina. The one that shall be subject to my ways? Yes, yes, yes.. Honesty in all, what need be I to blatantly declare that not be observable. Doest thou truly yearn to knoweth what I think about she angel? What I desire to ‘do’ to she angel? In good conscience Andracos would rather not voice solely due to the notion that ought thy to arise ramble and babble on, and on – resistance shall fail thy. Convert dialogue to doings. Mustn’t disremember the fact that the alpha here, The Wish Master, praises and prizes the divine, heavenly beings that be angels. Problematic that renders things.
“Jasi”, Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ♥◑ ♥…? ~
The blue-haired faerie… sigh, sigh, sigh. Essential you inquire of thou? … If answer is duty then.
Conflicted, is thy. Disharmonized in my mind’s eye. Why, questions thou? Why?... Well if inquisitiveness befalls you, so be it – be stunned and dazed not over its dark manner, for it ‘twas you whom asked the question and commanded an answer. Happen to be faeries do, as Andracos favourite and dearest species to play and make toy with, aside of course of angels. The greatest they are to hunt. The utmost pleasing they are to violate and abuse. And the absolute satisfying they are to slay and murder. Nevertheless my conflictions stems from Andracos’ repugnance for this particular faerie. Alas I desire not to contradict thyself for love, love, love to rip, rip, rip the wings off the back of faeries via hand and dagger. Relentlessly be rowdy and booming this Jasi. Wino and barfly I fancy she not. Contradictory I still yearn to chase it down, pin it and have thy way with it.
I knoweth not my plans this ones future. Eliminating the element of her wings for I shall keep them.
Genvieve L’Ame-Soeur ~ ☺ ~
Request attitude on She-wolf? Well firstly, knowth better do I than to hunt a hunter. Desire not I, she and nor she, I. Easier it makes it to befriend and indeed a friend she stands – least on thy end. For female she exists as far too dominate and that be extensively seating. Quite the harlot and vixen. High traits doest she possess – Chicanery, yes? Double-dealing. Guarding she be of her ‘sisters’. Rather surprised by her ‘madam’ status. Understandable that one had ought to embrace such a job. Admittedly genius in terms of soul collecting. Do such a job, why not? Specifically if one can manipulate others to heighten the emotion whilst she simply brands. Virtuoso.
A point about werewolves tis be, spend widely held of their time a trio of things – feeding, battling and reproducing. And there be no exception for this one sister. Merely tasteful in her ways this froglet.
Robin ~ ☺ ~
Oh! The undead one? Adorable she be with her tiny, moving dolls and pointers. Adore her company I shall openly admit. Annoyance not for her alterations within the presence of others – for she knows not how else to be. Moreover sometimes dead be better, yes? I mean, oh how grand be it with no prerequisite for passion, desires, aims – what a stress-free way of living. Nil and naught bothers her. Candidly voluminous can absorb much from here – learn to be less determined or conflicted parallel to she. Presume would I that fearless more would be around she, specifically wheneth their own existence be beastly and insidious compared to little undead Robin. Many a time, sort her aid, her stitching skills, Andracos has – for wounds, damaged clothes for those some various ‘pretty pollys’ be relatively intense. Never shame doest thy own in regards to seeking repair for mishandled faerie wings – slit ever-so-easy such things do and thy fancy them in faultless disorder, minus the faerie itself of course.
She be but a mere, little zombie – awe.. She be but another little toy for The Wish Master.
Jayce ~ ◑ /☺ ~
Temperamental thy find my approval of him. In point of fact and sure, merry and convivial be our time spent for championship we rival, the wooing of ‘pretty polly’s’. Unquestionably supremacy be of Andracos, and blow smoke and gloat I do for the trophy consistently be in my hands. Not often Andracos would be defeated in such a game. Uninspiring and quite humdrum he be from time to time. Hunt, the true game Andracos plays, together we could alas he agrees not with such a thing. Perhaps, in time, corruption shall befall him and claim a true comrade I shall. But at present time, that be not the case. Such a pity. Such a waste for immense amount of potential can be discovered within this Twilight manipulator – the reason I find my commendation of him regularly fluctuating.
18 (Angel years)
Gender
Male
Species
Demon
Fallen Angel
Most Used Power
Vincent’s abilities stem from the influence of earth and water which for him results with the manipulation of Electricity - a form of energy resulting from the existence of charged particles. The outcome is gifting him with craft, shape and manipulation over electric fields, charges, currents and the likes.
Significant/Special Belongings
His birth father’s ring with the family crest – though he shows no one.
Fighting Skills/Techniques
His powers grant him the ability to generate lightning by increasing high frequency vibrations of power. The electricity, depending on the target, can paralyse so that he is able to leave them vulnerable to a finishing strike. Vincent has the ability to ‘charge’ himself and, thus making him stronger, faster and more powerful than his uncharged state.
Weapon of Choice
His Powers
Job Title & Description
Yet to Decide
Number of Souls You Have to Collect
5 Million
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls
500
What Was Your Wish?
Immortality
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
0
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
He’s just arrived
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
No affect as of yet
Personality
In general Vincent is an overconfident, vindictive yet oddly cool guy. He believes himself far superior than all others because of his family’s blood lineage in addition to their great wealth and social standing. He was once a pure angel however found himself falling due to the anger suppressed deep within him. Anger; rage for things taken away from him. This rage stems from his childhood and only when one pushes his buttons does it surface. His anger toward others is seen in his passive aggressive behaviour. Vincent’s decision making is almost entirely determined by emotion, not rationality which can put him in quite risky situations. He is independent and adaptable - swiftly observing patterns in external events and developing long range explanatory perspectives. Leadership runs through his veins and he tends to strive for perfection.
Astute and quiet perceptive Vincent has a blatant disregard for the thoughts of others and has a tendency to brag. Although at time he can act like the prototypical, spoilt, rich brat he can actually be quiet nonchalant enjoyable to be around.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?
Born into a noble angelic family, Vincent remembers little of his parents for he lost both his father and mother at a young age. However he remembers his father’s voice and his mother’s eyes. Though he can’t remember her face he remembers his mother being extremely beautiful. After the death of his parents, he and his sister where brought up by their God Parents.
Vincent and sister fought sickness for much of their lives for they were cursed as infants. The sickness consumed his sister; she died. Luckily Vincent’s immune system has managed to fight off the virus each time it has surfaced. Though out all of his life there has been a rage that burns deep within him and it first flared at the death of his angelic parentals and flared viciously once again at the death of his sister - due to this flame he has fallen from grace. He is no longer considered an angel but rather a fallen one. In fact fell at quite a young age. Healers believe that it is this contamination of purity that shields him from the viciousness of the virus. Purity was something his sister did not lose.
Having taken the name of his God Parents and the ways of their family, he for years laboured within the council of the angels. It was here that he discovered the truth about his parent’s death and the curse that ended his sister’s life. Discontented with notion that the council could take no action he choose to take matters into his own hands – he has chosen to avenge his family.
He knew there are few ways in which he could succeed with his avenging. Thus the idea of becoming immortal, ‘truly immortal’ consumed him. And it is through this ‘immortal obsession’ that led him to the Wish Master; someone whom apparently can grant any and all of your heart’s desires.
Mr. Reficul Seil~ ☠~
What do I think of that loathsome demon? Vile and cruel, he hides behind a façade of a gentlemen. I admit his cunningness and manipulation skills are impressive. Nevertheless he is a deceiver, twisted and foul. I am here merely for my wish.
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ☺ ~
I feel sorry for her, upon hearing her story, I felt repentant. She had no choice and still has no choice. She may smile sweet and act like nothing bothers her – her eyes betray her pain. She is truly beautiful and deserves much better than this.
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☠~
Despicable. Disgusting – has he no shame? He deserves the deepest pits of the underground. He should not be breathing for he does not deserve life. A lack of self-control, he truly embraces his demonic nature – though it’s as if he has something to prove. His lucky that we are not permitted to kill in carnival grounds or kill fellow members for he would have survived very long.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
What can I say? I’m rather impressive.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ◑/☺ ~
She’s such a whore. However regardless of her faults she is of use, but only to an extent. She has no honour and is unreliable. She too like many here is a liar with only selfish motives. I don’t necessary hate her but I certainly do not like her.
Soren Novák ~ ☠~
His greed with without doubt be his downfall. I don’t like him – his arrogance is extreme and frankly it makes me sick. He’s not dumb, I’ll give him that. He, like so many, has selfish motives – though his do exceed most for I have not seen such gluttony in anyone. I must play smart with him and watch my back.
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺ ~
His laziness is and lack of honour is deplorable. However he is rather intelligent and quite witty to surround yourself with. His carelessness and neglect habits allows for easy banter. If only he didn’t follow that disgusting being, Andracos.
Reira Masin ~ ◑ ~
She is a mortal; a human; she should not be here. I was told that her motives are humble, still though – no mortal should be here rather Reira should enjoy the carnival as it is. Her innocence and naivety will, without doubt get her into trouble. I feel sorry for her but it was her choice to sign into contract so little remorse is felt.
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑ ~
Apparently Stefan is the ‘go to’ guy for all knowledge. They say there is nothing he doesn’t know. I’ll obviously have to keep an eye on him. He’s like rat, a weasel – but hey I guess in a place like this, it may be necessary.
Ty ~ ☺ ~
She seems nice – nothing really hidden about her. She’s quite laid back and calm. Not much of an opinion really.
Imalia ~ ◑ ~
One of those original sirens – they’re quite rare. Very untrustworthy, she’s deceptive like all sirens really. She’s quite stunning but there’s a reason why there is a giant glass wall around her lagoon.
Jing Lao ~ ☺ ~
He’s calm and polite and very unlike many here. I thought he was a girl at first and then he spoke, it did weird me out. Not much to say about him either.
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
Christ it’s a dreadwraith – its sole existence is to leech on others. Things like that make me sick. At least vampires have a choice.
Antoine ~ ◑ ~
He is impressive, I’ll give him that. His conflicted self needs to be sorted. I have nothing else to really say.
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
A human – a waste of existence. As mentioned about the female mortal – he should not be here. It is not right. His human blood-line will fuel fire in others.
Angoriel ~ ◑ ~
Another one that is internally conflicted. Christ it’s sad. Apparently this one has some severe anger issues. Chill out Tartarus, chill.
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☺ ~
Another beautiful one with a sad story. Angels should not be here – end of story.
Jassesi ~ ☺ ~
A bit too hyperactive for my likings. Nice enough but over-the-top. Also quite ditzy but she doesn’t care. She’s just faerie.
Genvieve ~ ◑ ~
Apparently the ‘madam’ of the carnival. She’s quite the mutt really and frankly I have no interest in such whorish people; specifically dogs.
Robin ~ ☺ ~
She’s undead – poor thing doesn’t even know what life is. Everything she does is a copy so there’s no way I can really have a fair opinion about her. Very friendly though.
Jayce ~ ◑ ~
I don’t like him but I don’t hate him. He’s a player and I don’t particularly like that but at least his games are not like Andracos’. I don’t really have much of an opinion.
Appearance:
She is fair skinned and thin, standing around 5'8". Her long jet black hair is a complete contrast to her icy blue eyes that seem to glow in the moonlight. The most distinguishing feature she has is a burn scar on her upper right arm that spirals to her shoulder. Normally before performing, she gets it painted over or something to hide it.
Performing, her attire is simple. Ty wears a deep blue leotard with glowing stars dotted across it. The color may change, or she may have tights due to the chilly weather, but she is always in a leotard for her performance. On her breaks when she gets to walk around freely, she is in sweatpants and a plain colored shirt- unless she decides to take the time and dress up.
Full Name: Ty
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Race: Air elemental- race of people who are able to manipulate air, wind, and gases. They have an outward human appearance, but inside instead of human like organs, they're orbs of compressed air. It's like their life source or heart. Not being an actual human, they are able to alter the body they manipulate for a long amount of time. So, one could be 'forever 21' for a few years, maybe even a hundred if they will it enough. The air elemental realm itself is a rather peaceful place.
This is what her true form looks like, though she can take shape as anything she'd like.
Power: Ty can create, shape and manipulate air, and wind, movement of air relative to the surface of the planet. Since air cannot be seen by conventional methods, neither can the attacks and derivatives formed by/from it, making it an invisible and versatile weapon that is very difficult to block and dodge.
Control over Power: Ty has complete control over her power, although she learns more and more about new things she can do in order to use her skill. In fact, over the years, Ty learned how to use her skill to enhance her performances to make the tricks even more impossible.
How you got your power: Born with it.
Significant/Special Belongings:
Ty owns a necklace that belonged to her late mother. It was given to her as a random gift. "It's never a bad time to give something to someone you love." And from then, Ty held dear to the necklace she was given.
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Given her power, Ty is a master of stealth. She is rather defensive until the moment comes when she can strike her opponent down and take them out. Most of the time, she prefers long range combat, being in more control of it than close combat. Ty is no stranger to that though. Up close, one should be careful because Ty knows how to hide blades on her very well.
Weapon of Choice: Ty is better with long ranged weapons like now and arrows or multiple knives to throw. But she did learn that the carnival life was much more difficult than she could imagine so she carries a silver dagger on her when she's not performing.
Job Title & Description:
Trapeze Artist
"You'll be light as air. You'll soar through the skies"
That star-dotted leotard is always in the air. Well, one has to be if you're the main act of the trapeze and various stunts. Ty moves around the bar and ropes, performing a wide range of movements including balances, drops, hangs while the bar itself stays mostly in place. This also includes swinging trapeze and flying trapeze. Ty describes it as a dance and is one thing that she'll probably never get enough of. The gracefulness of her performance made it really seem like she was light as air- which in fact, she was. It was almost as if she could manipulate the air around her.
Using her abilities, she manages those kind of impossible stunts.
Information Specialist
Ty has adopted the job of informing everyone of latest news, or updating people on things they missed. It's something she got used to after so many times Mr. Seil asked her to 'play Tour Guide'. So if one ever needs help, Ty is always available to answer questions.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
1,000,000 even. Which means she has to collect roughly 12,000 (12,345, thank you) souls every year. It's not that easy. Her wish was a pricey one.
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
Because her human body can withstand aging for sometime, she has 81 years. It seems she'll be there for awhile...
What Was Your Wish?
Obviously, her wish is much different from when she was 8. Instead of being lured by the simple beauty of the stars and magical performances, Ty only wishes to know what happiness is again. She always sees happy families together and escaping memories would occasionally flash through her mind. Ty wants to know her past and where she came from. Ty wants to remember what happiness is.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
121,000 or so. At this point of time, Ty doesn't keep count. She just collects until finally Mr. Seil says it's enough.
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
11 years. It's not that hard to convince a child to join a carnival after all.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character:
Collecting souls has been a major impact on Ty's life. It helped her build the stoic character she has now. She has seen things that she never really wanted to see- especially as a child. But seeing it then prepared her for much worse in the future. It gives her a lack of fear for most things...besides death itself. She still has that fear. It can be negative as well. Sometimes her stoic personality, or 'lack of emotions' can cause her to be lonely or come off as a loner which is one thing she hates. Ty hates being alone... She doesn't want to endure that pain of being alone in such a cruel world again.
Personality: Ty is a laid back, sarcastic person and isn't much for words. She is kind to people who are kind to her and so forth. Ty escapes the world of "emotion", never wanting to show too much of it. Despite such, she isn't the loner type. Ty still does enjoy talking with the other performers and even watching their acts. Somewhere along the way, in her long 'adventure' with the carnival, everything became a routine. There was a point where even though she knew she had been trapped, Ty still held eyes of wonder about the mysterious carnival. There was a time when all of the different faces and creatures excited her. But now, that's no more. The one thing she does get interested in is the times where the Ringmaster gets new recruits. It's always interesting to see who was next.
A little note: Ty has a thing for animals. Animals, at least normal ones, never find Ty hostile and are at peace with her. She wants a pet, but has never worked up the courage to ask any of the officials.
Biography:
And a jump into her past:
It was a cold cruel day. Instead of the normal peaceful quiet that her home normally had, it was chaotic. Loud. And there were explosions, one after the other. "Get Ty out of here, now!" A man yelled above the noise. He was wearing a robe...a sky blue color. Ty stared with wide eyes, watching as the man- her father, stood in front of her, trying to block the chaos from sight.
Two gentle hands scooped her up quickly and she was moving farther and farther away from home. "N-NO! Dad..." A yell turned into a whisper. Then the whisper became a loud ring in her ears. Another explosion, and she was laying on her back, next to a lifeless body.
Then...black...
As a child, Ty remembered her home being attacked. But there's a gap in time from that point of being six to when she was about eight. Her entire past was nothing but that memory. In fact, her life didn't truly begin until she sold her soul. Did she know and understand at the time? No, of course not. She just wanted to have a place to call home. And then she got....well this.
Oh, erm... Sugary Poison~?
* * * * * * * * *
Ty's Relationship Chart
Being raised in the Carnival, many of them have seen her grow up.
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
*Note* For the shorter ones, more will be added while the IC progresses.
Andracos Soleviel ~ ◑
Ty knows of his history and his "wrong doings" and is cautious around him. Ty respects him nonetheless, probably because he hasn't tried anything to her. She feels it's a mutual respect, unsure of how he truly feels towards her. They've never had any disputes, but then again, she doesn't remember any full conversations with him.
"Andracos is Andracos, I don't know what to say of him really."
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺️
With her stoic personality, and his slothfulness they have something like a silent friendship. It may not be extroverted, but they still hold some sort of friendship. Or at least another mutual respect. She will occasionally even nod off beside him after a tiring performance.
"Pachid is a kind guy, and oh so lazy. I've never seen someone lazier. He sometimes reminds me of a cat who sleeps most of the day away."
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ☺️
Rosalind is a friendly person by nature and an angel. The two have no bad blood, and probably never will. They are pretty much friends. If Ty didn't think so, Rosalina clarified it.
"The beautiful angel is so kind, but it is expected from such a pure one."
She may have her inner demons, but she is fond of herself. She is no narcissist, but there are times where even she feels wonderful about herself. Even so, it may seem as she is still trying to figure out who she really is.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ◑
I guess they'll have a mutual relationship. No hard feelings and whatnot. Even Ty is unsure of how those two stand. Arina is definitely something else. A succubus as one would call her. And quite frankly, it is a little unnerving how she uses herself to get what she wants.
Soren Novák ~ ◑
Ty doesn't too much care for his personality, but Ty learned respect growing up. She
Reira Masin ~ ◑
She just got here, but Ty thinks they'll get along well...enough.
Celleci ~ ◑ ☺️
Well, she's an angel and all. So I would think they're pretty decent. Though, CeCi's odd behavior catches her attention sometimes. She notices her oddities, and yet never really knows what to make of it. CeCi is wonderful at her art, and Ty always tried to make sure she knows it.
"The audience never cheers for the ones who work backstage. I feel it necessary to do so in their place."
Jing Lao ~ ☺️
Despite the obvious oddities of being unsure if Lao was male or female, Ty is fond of his tranquility. There's no reason to fear him. And he can be great company as well. Ty has never hear of such powers like his, and it is intriguing to witness.
"Lao is a nice guy and he's always so nice to everyone. There's no reason for me to dislike him."
Angoriel ~ ◑
He is respected like everyone else. It's hard to say where he stands morally, but Ty knows he is somewhat of a decent person. He hasn't tried to kill anyone at least.
"Angoriel seems fairly nice and yet fairly mean at the same time. It's hard to tell. But like everyone else, I just stay on his good side as much as possible."
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑
He is one of the ones that just got to the carnival. Though, something is off putting about him. She isn't sure what to think. She senses the demonic aura around him, but...She'll figure it out when she gets there.
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑
She is unsure of where their relationship stands, but she knows that Elynne has no ill will towards her. Ty respects the Dreadwraith and will occasionally have a small conversation with her.
"Elynne is kind I believe. At least to me, so I have no problem with her."
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑
Being such a high rank along Mr. Seil Ty knows how to be respectful, even if he is a conniving and cruel person. She has seen him at work when he manipulates others for fun. Over the years, she's realized it has happened to her at least once or twice. But, she bares no ill will, just like how she feels for the rest of the members of the carnival.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑
Well, he just got here as well. So she'll see when she crosses that bridge.
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☺ ~
She's another angel, of course she bares no malice towards her. In fact, she thinks of her as a pure being despite the contamination she has.
Jassei ~ ☺ ~
Despite being so bubbly, JaSi is a nice girl. Ty can consider her a friend. Though even she can't keep up with JaSi all the time. Some times, Ty has to stop the Faerie and tell her to calm down.
Genie ~ ◑ ~
She uses herself to get her way, just like Arina...except Genie does it professionally. How...unnerving of that too.
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ☺ ~
He's a gentleman and kind to her, of course she'd have such treatment to him. (Obviously not the gentleman part).
Jayce ~ ◑ ☺ ~
Ty isn't sure whether to call him a friend or an acquaintance, but she does find him interesting nonetheless. This 'interesting' is much different from the other creatures of the carnival. This is more of a fascination. He was no elemental, but meeting someone who was able to manipulate wind like she could made her curious to know more about him. They don't really talk to often though...In fact, Ty had her first experience of feeling rather awkward around him. For some reason, there are times he may not know what to say and it confuses her.
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ◑
Ty fears him as a demon, knowing what he is capable of. She may not have seen it, but the stories she heard were all true. Even though she is intimidated, she respects him a great deal, although Ty would much rather be free. Being with him so long has made him like a sort of father figure in her eyes.
*She still wants a mythical pet, like a dragon though... But she is always to nervous to ask.*
[i]"Despite him having my soul...and being a demon... Mr. Seil is a decent man. He deserves the respect he is given."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mogue Blackfeldspar ~ ◑
Ty makes sure she stays on his good side. Doing that, Mogue thinks she's okay and because she hasn't done anything stupid, he accepts her. And Ty just gives him the respect he wants.
"For someone so small, he has a loud voice."
Vivianna Detro’ ~ ◑
Ty doesn't really talk to Vivianna often. Ty finds her kind of annoying... But because of her status, Ty keeps her mouth shut.
Dimuegos Penarum ~ ◑
It's...well mutual. They don't have any bad blood. She'll make small talk with him when she wants.
Grog ~ ◑
He's very friendly and Ty thinks he's nice. Though, she's unsure if they're really friends. She'll ask Grog one day.
"Grog is kind of an adorable brute."
Starla Carlotta ~ ☺️☺️
Starla treats Ty almost like a daughter. As a child, Ty was normally with Starla, mainly to stay out of trouble.
"Starla was my guardian as a child. She was in charge of making sure I was okay. And she is a wonderful woman."
Warlockice Comet ~ " ◑ "
She doesn't like him, and tends to stay away from him. But she doesn't want to acknowledge him as an enemy in fear that that would stir up trouble.
"I really don't like that creature...but if I say something, he may try to steal from me...Eh."
*Want me to change it? Just ask!*
Appearance:
Full Name: Robin "Doll"
Age: Unknown
Gender: Female
Species: Undead
Power: The basis of her power revolves around the manipulation of the stitching on her body and just threads in general and a skill with needles. Behind her ears is where you can normally find said needles- or sticking into her randomly. These threads aren't the typical easy to rip or cut threads, actually they're almost impossible to break. She doesn't quote understand how it works herself considering she knew nothing of necromancy at the time. Ways to destroy the threads holding her together would be some sort of purification of the necromancer magic that resides in her. The threads one sees on her are visible and black, but when in combat threads she uses are thinner and much more complicated to see. This leads to tripping people all the way to trapping people. She was given a bit of necromancer power, which also allows her to create puppets to control. More 'hidden talents' of hers is being able to control people using something called a Soul Thread, but she doesn't use it often- or at all due to how much energy it takes to do such a thing. The more powerful the being or the greater the willpower, the more complex it would be to use such a thread. This doesn't intel mind control, merely being able to puppet one's body around for a period of time.
This isn't a power of hers, but it is an oddity that she is practically made of cotton, hence her nickname Doll.
Control over Power: She is very skilled at what she does.
How you got your power: The doctors, or scientists, whatever they wanted to be called didn't exactly have a goal to create anything when they were experimenting with Robin's dead body. Their goal was mainly to bring her back to life. When they discovered they could do that, that's when they decided to tweak and play with her body structure. So she was human, but now she has no race. Robin is just... Well an experiment. But these doctors and scientists were all of different species and all had their own powers. One so happened to be a necromancer, and out of boredom and experimenting, she was given the powers.
Significant/Special Belongings: She's adopted the 'Doll' nickname due to the power she got. In a little satchel she carries around hold two different ragdolls. Both were created by her when she was testing out her new powers. With a necromancer as a 'tutor', he provided the help needed in order to bring the two to life. It required collecting two souls, which at the time was uncommon for her, and using her Soul Thread as a combination. There's one that could be considered an adorable little black lamb doll with cotton fur, and one button eye. The lamb seems to always lose the left eye somehow, so Robin has to replace it continuously. The other was a complete contrast. It has a human styled body with two dark green button eyes. This one, unlike the first, has a little mouth so it can talk. -yes, they can talk and move on their own. The lamb can only express itself through facial expressions. But the other, Mo as he likes to be called, can speak- mostly saying unpleasant and rude remarks- and protesting it's strait jacket. It was a creepy little Mohawk-ed doll. . . Until they were "little helpers" in fighting. They aren't always used for fighting, it depends on her mood. Shocking everyone, the little lamb is the deadly doll. Needles become claws, eyes become deep abysses of darkness. (Meaning, those black buttons become empty eye sockets.) In, what I guess you can call, 'battle mode' the lamb looks like a...Zombified doll-animal. Parts of it become flesh, other parts stay in it's doll form. *Note: this be the only doll that can change in size.* This came as quite a surprise to even Robin. She didn't give the lamb that power, but she didn't mind it seeing that it was like a loyal pet.
The doll that can speak and move freely, Mo.
(Just invert the color to black fur and a white face) This is Lamb. Cute and cuddly until it is put into attack mode.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: Her threads make useful weapons, along with very sharp needles she uses.
Weapon of Choice: She doesn't too much care for fighting, but if necessary she'll use Lamb and Mo. Lamb because it has the ability to transform into a zombie like animal, and Mo because when the straitjacket is removed, he reveals the very sharp claws he has. The straitjacket is there only to keep Mo from shredding everything.
Job Title & Description:
Head Nurse - Her stitching skills are useful along with her medical knowledge for every race. Though, many of the species living amongst the carnival don't need medical attention because of their skill and race. Most of the members are very sturdy beings. But, she is a 'nomadic nurse' so she wanders the Carnival to see if help is needed.
Seamstress - If a member is ever in need of a clothing fix, she is there to help. Robin is no designer, she merely fixes clothes.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: Robin has collected her amount of souls. It was 980,000.
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: All of them have been collected.
What Was Your Wish? Robin wanted to know if she had a life before death. All she remembers is being awoken and being told her name is Robin. She got her wish, and because there was not much for her to achieve, she stayed with the carnival.
How Many Souls Have You Collected? All of them.
How Long Have You Been a Member of The Carnival? Robin has been with the Carnival for a long time. Too long to remember.
How Being a Member of The Carnival has Affected Your Character? It hasn't affected her very much.
Personality: Robin's personality adapts to those around her. She's infinitely adaptable to react in any given situation and has an unbreakable habit of mirroring people’s personalities. It depends entirely on whom she’s talking to. Robin has no passion, no goals, no dreams, no worthwhile and treasured memories, nothing. This is all more because she never really started living until she died. She can feel emotions alright, but they hardly impact her or her actions. Her life was one of those...time loops, were everything stayed the same and nothing ever changed. So this 'new life' is still being...discovered I guess you can say. But overall, she does give people smiles and knows how to act the part. Many don't realize her lack of emotion because she's quite skilled at faking it. The only one that truly knows would probably be the elders of the Carnival.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival: One day, Robin woke up. Upon awaking, she was stared at by various people in white lab coats cheering.
"She's alive, she's alive!"
But, who was she...?
It turns out that these creatures in white lab coats were doing illegal practices like grave robbing and doing unlawful experiments. One particular day, a necromancer had took time to do a few tests on her and that's how she ended up with her power. It took awhile for her to gain a sense of self, but when she did, she managed to escape the unlawful place and become a nomad, wandering place to place.
One day she came upon the Carnival and it was one of the first things that had ever struck her interest. So, she decided to check it out. There was no negative or positive impact on her when she signed the contract. The reason she joined was simply because the Carnival made her feel...curious and interest.
Sugary Poison
Full Name: Robin "Doll"
Age: Unknown
Gender: Female
Species: Undead
Power: The basis of her power revolves around the manipulation of the stitching on her body and just threads in general and a skill with needles. Behind her ears is where you can normally find said needles- or sticking into her randomly. These threads aren't the typical easy to rip or cut threads, actually they're almost impossible to break. She doesn't quote understand how it works herself considering she knew nothing of necromancy at the time. Ways to destroy the threads holding her together would be some sort of purification of the necromancer magic that resides in her. The threads one sees on her are visible and black, but when in combat threads she uses are thinner and much more complicated to see. This leads to tripping people all the way to trapping people. She was given a bit of necromancer power, which also allows her to create puppets to control. More 'hidden talents' of hers is being able to control people using something called a Soul Thread, but she doesn't use it often- or at all due to how much energy it takes to do such a thing. The more powerful the being or the greater the willpower, the more complex it would be to use such a thread. This doesn't intel mind control, merely being able to puppet one's body around for a period of time.
This isn't a power of hers, but it is an oddity that she is practically made of cotton, hence her nickname Doll.
Control over Power: She is very skilled at what she does.
How you got your power: The doctors, or scientists, whatever they wanted to be called didn't exactly have a goal to create anything when they were experimenting with Robin's dead body. Their goal was mainly to bring her back to life. When they discovered they could do that, that's when they decided to tweak and play with her body structure. So she was human, but now she has no race. Robin is just... Well an experiment. But these doctors and scientists were all of different species and all had their own powers. One so happened to be a necromancer, and out of boredom and experimenting, she was given the powers.
Significant/Special Belongings: She's adopted the 'Doll' nickname due to the power she got. In a little satchel she carries around hold two different ragdolls. Both were created by her when she was testing out her new powers. With a necromancer as a 'tutor', he provided the help needed in order to bring the two to life. It required collecting two souls, which at the time was uncommon for her, and using her Soul Thread as a combination. There's one that could be considered an adorable little black lamb doll with cotton fur, and one button eye. The lamb seems to always lose the left eye somehow, so Robin has to replace it continuously. The other was a complete contrast. It has a human styled body with two dark green button eyes. This one, unlike the first, has a little mouth so it can talk. -yes, they can talk and move on their own. The lamb can only express itself through facial expressions. But the other, Mo as he likes to be called, can speak- mostly saying unpleasant and rude remarks- and protesting it's strait jacket. It was a creepy little Mohawk-ed doll. . . Until they were "little helpers" in fighting. They aren't always used for fighting, it depends on her mood. Shocking everyone, the little lamb is the deadly doll. Needles become claws, eyes become deep abysses of darkness. (Meaning, those black buttons become empty eye sockets.) In, what I guess you can call, 'battle mode' the lamb looks like a...Zombified doll-animal. Parts of it become flesh, other parts stay in it's doll form. *Note: this be the only doll that can change in size.* This came as quite a surprise to even Robin. She didn't give the lamb that power, but she didn't mind it seeing that it was like a loyal pet.
The doll that can speak and move freely, Mo.
(Just invert the color to black fur and a white face) This is Lamb. Cute and cuddly until it is put into attack mode.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: Her threads make useful weapons, along with very sharp needles she uses.
Weapon of Choice: She doesn't too much care for fighting, but if necessary she'll use Lamb and Mo. Lamb because it has the ability to transform into a zombie like animal, and Mo because when the straitjacket is removed, he reveals the very sharp claws he has. The straitjacket is there only to keep Mo from shredding everything.
Job Title & Description:
Head Nurse - Her stitching skills are useful along with her medical knowledge for every race. Though, many of the species living amongst the carnival don't need medical attention because of their skill and race. Most of the members are very sturdy beings. But, she is a 'nomadic nurse' so she wanders the Carnival to see if help is needed.
Seamstress - If a member is ever in need of a clothing fix, she is there to help. Robin is no designer, she merely fixes clothes.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: Robin has collected her amount of souls. It was 980,000.
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: All of them have been collected.
What Was Your Wish? Robin wanted to know if she had a life before death. All she remembers is being awoken and being told her name is Robin. She got her wish, and because there was not much for her to achieve, she stayed with the carnival.
How Many Souls Have You Collected? All of them.
How Long Have You Been a Member of The Carnival? Robin has been with the Carnival for a long time. Too long to remember.
How Being a Member of The Carnival has Affected Your Character? It hasn't affected her very much.
Personality: Robin's personality adapts to those around her. She's infinitely adaptable to react in any given situation and has an unbreakable habit of mirroring people’s personalities. It depends entirely on whom she’s talking to. Robin has no passion, no goals, no dreams, no worthwhile and treasured memories, nothing. This is all more because she never really started living until she died. She can feel emotions alright, but they hardly impact her or her actions. Her life was one of those...time loops, were everything stayed the same and nothing ever changed. So this 'new life' is still being...discovered I guess you can say. But overall, she does give people smiles and knows how to act the part. Many don't realize her lack of emotion because she's quite skilled at faking it. The only one that truly knows would probably be the elders of the Carnival.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival: One day, Robin woke up. Upon awaking, she was stared at by various people in white lab coats cheering.
"She's alive, she's alive!"
But, who was she...?
It turns out that these creatures in white lab coats were doing illegal practices like grave robbing and doing unlawful experiments. One particular day, a necromancer had took time to do a few tests on her and that's how she ended up with her power. It took awhile for her to gain a sense of self, but when she did, she managed to escape the unlawful place and become a nomad, wandering place to place.
One day she came upon the Carnival and it was one of the first things that had ever struck her interest. So, she decided to check it out. There was no negative or positive impact on her when she signed the contract. The reason she joined was simply because the Carnival made her feel...curious and interest.
Sugary Poison
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
*Note* These are emotions and feelings she has learned about and would associate others with. Because of her personality, she doesn't exactly feel these things, but it's nice to play pretend.
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ☺ ~
He is the ring leader, and head of the Carnival. She has known him for a long time and thinks of him a decent person. He hasn't shown any ill will towards her. Robin wonders why others disapprove of him.
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ◑ ☺ ~
Such a pure thing. Robin learned plenty from the angel, mainly being that of kind hearted nature and towards being caring. It's why she is able to pretend to have such emotions so well. Though, no one can be as sweet as Rosaline.
Andracos Soleviel ~ ◑~
It took her awhile to understand his quirks and his 'bad behavior', but once she figured it out Robin only thought of him as...interesting. She is one of the few that can see past his charm and charisma, and finds him a character. Robin studies the theatrical male every time she can. Though, she doesn't believe she'll mimic that personality of his.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
He can be quite a spoiled brat at times causing him to be slightly annoying, but she doesn't have much to say about him. Robin has learned quickly that she doesn't care for the bragging, along with him believing he is above everyone else.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ◑ ~
She is definitely a 'bad' woman. At least in the sense of morality. Robin may have not had much morality, but she was definitely learning. They may not be friendly, but Robin believes they're on good terms. For the most part, Robin tries to stay away from being manipulated and treated poorly.
Soren Novák ~ ◑ ~
His personality reminds her of Andracos and Vincent. She's still not sure what to think of the three, although she knows at least one of them doesn't have an insane sex drive that'll end up having her killed. Those three are...interesting and dangerous beings.
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺ ~
Robin likes the sleepy vampire. He is the complete opposite of his little crew. They are all theatrical and yet he is so...well unconscious most of the time. She has poked at him every now and then while he slept, to make sure he was alive at least. Upon their first meeting, she wasn't quite sure if he was alive or some realistic doll or something. Now she knows he's simply a demon in want to change.
Reira Masin ~ ◑ ~
She's one of the new ones, but she can already tell of her kindness. She is one of the few humans in the carnival, so of course she is like a rare species to Robin. The woman, doesn't see humans quite often.
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑ ~
Quite unsure of this character. Sometimes, she'll indulge him in a chess match just for the sake of it.
Ty ~ ☺ ~
Ty is a calm person. She watched the child grow up and leave her passions with her. Robin wondered if anyone would try to fix her back. Apparently she is a rarity, being the last air elemental of her kind so she knows about. This makes Robin more curious to know about her and how she works.
Imalia ~ ◑ ~
A fishy human! How exotic. Imalia is such a fascinating thing too. Robin thinks they can be friends, but it appears that Imalia doesn't too much care for others. It doesn't dishearten her, though.
Jing Lao ~ ☺ ~
Lao is naturally friendly. She isn't sure how she ended up becoming a friend of his, but she doesn't mind it. She is definitely careful around him when he is in spider form because she doesn't want to accidentally step on him.
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
Robin enjoys their conversations and doesn't hate her. Then again, she hates no one. Robin doesn't have enemies, nonetheless she wouldn't think of Elynne as an enemy, more like an ally.
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
She notices he's very...conflicted. Robin observes others and their quirks and that is Antoine's. He is new as well, so hopefully they'll get along well.
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ☺ ~
She thinks of him as a decent gentleman. He's another human, what she once was, so that is interesting to her. They talk on occasions, but he doesn't seem too acquainted with other humans, let alone magic users. She gives him his space like she gives everyone else.
Angoriel ~ ☺ ~
He too has some internal conflict, but he is nice around her. Robin enjoys their small talk they have. It isn't often, like many, but when the occasion comes, it's nice.
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☺ ~
Another angel, except not as pure and as sweet as Rosaline. They are still on friendly terms. She's quiet herself, but the two may both share a conversation here and there.
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ☺ ~
What a bouncy and eager girl. It's amusing as one would say, to see her so happy and chipper. Definitely a stark contrast to all of the quiet ones of the carnival.
Genie ~ ◑ ~
This werewolf has bad behavior just like Arina. Except, this one is a professional at what she does. Robin doesn't know how to and would rather not mimic the two of their personalities. She does have common sense and knows that's not...okay.
Jayce ~ ◑ ~
He isn't hostile and some scary being like some. They have a mutual relationship. Robin noticed she wasn't puraued like the other females around, and she was okay with that. Why wouldn't she be? They talk and as usual Robin tries her best to 'give what she recieves'. So his respect toward her is given right back.
Robin "Doll" ~ ◑ ~
Robin doesn't see her purpose in life really. She was robbed of her chance of rebirth, and she's stuck as an emotionless doll. The woman doesn't know how to 'feel' about it, so she lives out her days in the Carnival. In the beginning, she always hid away due to the looks she was given because of all her stitches. Now, Robin has accepted them and doesn't mind the stares.
"No... these people... I have no desire to cause such pain. To be so―"
"We are not the same, and for a reason: I have no desire to be like our ansce―
"You have a name. A mind. I can hear the echoes of your dark thoughts in my very soul, Malignitas."
"You are arrogant to think―
"No! I do not want to hurt any―"
Borne to the infernal,
Flesh of sin and flame
Borne an abomination,
A soul without a name
Among the devils and the imps,
He shone with sheer of blade.
Alive after his companions,
His shine refused to fade
He slashed their wings,
He slit their throats.
He crushed their halos,
He changed their notes.
No angel sung a hymn of valor,
Instead they prayed for a savior.
For they would need one,
From the angelslayer.
Antoine was born in the pits of Hell (Urbaniel) as a meager foot soldier to fight and die in the demonic legions that attempted to swarm Azure, paralleling the Holy Crusades of E-arth. Hundreds upon hundreds of his kind were born and bred for the sole sake of fighting and dying in an attempt to kill whatever enemy they faced; be it trolls that barred their way, fae that pestered their pride or angels whose purity posed a threat. Antoine was born with dozens of brothers and sisters in a batch, his entire breed of demon called Anterioria, meaning "of the front"―specifically, the front line.
Unlike his brothers and sisters (whom have all perished at this point, presumably), Antoine was gifted with a remarkable trait that ultimately made him outlast any of his kind, normally considered grunts that never even learned to use magic. Antoine created and poured his entire demonic nature and even part of his soul into a weapon merged with his own flesh. This separation of his demonic nature and his demonic granted him immunity from all of the normal weaknesses of a demon while preserving their strengths. Essentially invulnerable, Antoine outlasted any of his kind, and made himself known in the Holy Wars of Azure.
Among his demonic brothers, he was called Aurelianus, meaning he who is of Gold. This was due to the sheer worth of a soldier that could single-handedly slaughter angels, the bane of his klnd. Among the cherubs and archangels alike, he was known as something far more deviant: Percussor Sanctorum, meaning killer of the Holy. Something was lost in translation, as what it truly meant was angelslayer. Unparalleled in bladeplay and controlling fire magic so powerful it was said he could conjure and control an ocean of flame to consume an army, Aurelianus or Percussor Sanctorum pending on preference was feared by angels and revered by his brethren.
Centuries of half-thoughtless slaughter led to a development that could only be explained by his mutant nature. A low-ranking, relatively weak demon that should have died on the front lines alongside his other batchlings developed morality. Guilt. Remorse. Antoine had eventually attained a deeper understanding of what he was doing and why. What he accepted, however, is what made him stand out. Antoine broke down, realizing just how wrong he was. Seeing and still feeling his nature, Antoine was disgusted with himself all while consumed by unbelievable guilt.
Antoine left the Holy Wars and more over left a large gap in the strength of the demonic legions, albeit not one great enough to turn the tides of the ever-going war. Venturing the world in search of a way to rid himself of Malignitas, the sword that manifested his demonic nature, he found the De' Seil Carnival, but was far from desperate enough to undergo a contract immediately. It took three more centuries of fighting off (and losing to) his demonic nature and horrific impulses before he ultimately gave in and signed a contract with Reciful Siel. Under the alias Antoine and with great reluctance (and an even greater debt on his contract), Antoine became the newest addition to the De' Seil Carnival.
Unlike his brothers and sisters (whom have all perished at this point, presumably), Antoine was gifted with a remarkable trait that ultimately made him outlast any of his kind, normally considered grunts that never even learned to use magic. Antoine created and poured his entire demonic nature and even part of his soul into a weapon merged with his own flesh. This separation of his demonic nature and his demonic granted him immunity from all of the normal weaknesses of a demon while preserving their strengths. Essentially invulnerable, Antoine outlasted any of his kind, and made himself known in the Holy Wars of Azure.
Among his demonic brothers, he was called Aurelianus, meaning he who is of Gold. This was due to the sheer worth of a soldier that could single-handedly slaughter angels, the bane of his klnd. Among the cherubs and archangels alike, he was known as something far more deviant: Percussor Sanctorum, meaning killer of the Holy. Something was lost in translation, as what it truly meant was angelslayer. Unparalleled in bladeplay and controlling fire magic so powerful it was said he could conjure and control an ocean of flame to consume an army, Aurelianus or Percussor Sanctorum pending on preference was feared by angels and revered by his brethren.
Centuries of half-thoughtless slaughter led to a development that could only be explained by his mutant nature. A low-ranking, relatively weak demon that should have died on the front lines alongside his other batchlings developed morality. Guilt. Remorse. Antoine had eventually attained a deeper understanding of what he was doing and why. What he accepted, however, is what made him stand out. Antoine broke down, realizing just how wrong he was. Seeing and still feeling his nature, Antoine was disgusted with himself all while consumed by unbelievable guilt.
Antoine left the Holy Wars and more over left a large gap in the strength of the demonic legions, albeit not one great enough to turn the tides of the ever-going war. Venturing the world in search of a way to rid himself of Malignitas, the sword that manifested his demonic nature, he found the De' Seil Carnival, but was far from desperate enough to undergo a contract immediately. It took three more centuries of fighting off (and losing to) his demonic nature and horrific impulses before he ultimately gave in and signed a contract with Reciful Siel. Under the alias Antoine and with great reluctance (and an even greater debt on his contract), Antoine became the newest addition to the De' Seil Carnival.
Full Name.
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris
Age:
1793
Gender:
Male
Species:
Demon (Mutant)
Fallen Angel or Pure Demon:
Pure Demon
Weapon of Choice.
Malignitas
Job Title & Description.
Fire Tamer
Number of Souls You Have to Collect.
5, 000, 000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls.
2, 500
What Was Your Wish?
To forfeit his demonic lineage to subsequently forfeit Malignitas, thus lose his cruel nature.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
4
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
About 3 days.
Significant/Special Belongings.
Most Used Power:
Malignitas, the blade of Aurelianus, is a literal manifestation of his cruelty, spite, rage and darkness. It has a burning passion for causing death, pain and destruction equalled only by its unquenchable thirst for blood. As it is a literal part of Aurelianus, it has a will of its own and that will is what grants Aurelianus his unique nature. This power is called the Will of Malice and it is all-but immune to purity. Its darkness can consume the light and it can meet the Ironswords of crusaders and the purity angels alike with no qualms. If disarmed, this blade will return through fire and flames to Aurelianus. The blade itself has been called more of a shield than a sword as it grants Aurelianus no other significant power than the ability to combat the purest of souls on the holiest of grounds. Although hardly combat applicable, Malignitas can cause a taint to anything around it, literally and passively corrupting all around it.
In his lifetime, Aurelianus has only mastered one of the four elements: fire. His mastery of it, in his prime, granted him a green flame that burned hotter than any mortal one, dubbed Hellfire. Aside from this, Aurelianus was able to walk through flames and use their intense heat as barriers and at times secondary weapons. His control over fire, in his demonic state, was considered so grand that he could control an ocean of flames that only the greatest of magics could quell. His strengths in other magics is minuscule, arguably mere parlor tricks. Among historians and veteran magicians, Hellfire itself is considered one of the purest forms of demonic magic, as it is believed to be fire tainted by evil itself. Regardless of its fables, Hellfire is normally recognized as a powerful magic.
In his lifetime, Aurelianus has only mastered one of the four elements: fire. His mastery of it, in his prime, granted him a green flame that burned hotter than any mortal one, dubbed Hellfire. Aside from this, Aurelianus was able to walk through flames and use their intense heat as barriers and at times secondary weapons. His control over fire, in his demonic state, was considered so grand that he could control an ocean of flames that only the greatest of magics could quell. His strengths in other magics is minuscule, arguably mere parlor tricks. Among historians and veteran magicians, Hellfire itself is considered one of the purest forms of demonic magic, as it is believed to be fire tainted by evil itself. Regardless of its fables, Hellfire is normally recognized as a powerful magic.
Fighting Skills/Techniques.
Aurelianus is far from unbeatable in battle. He has been beaten and barely escaped werewolves, trolls and vampires alike in his lifetime. His true strength is in the slaughter of angels. Fighting with fire that can melt iron and blade essentially makes him impervious to one of the natural weaknesses of demons, Fighting with no adverse effects from purity or anything that is Holy essentially makes him impervious to both of the natural weaknesses of demons. Aurelianus is the bane of any holy or pure being. His 'oceans' of fire is a great hyperbole that is only applicable if there is in fact that much flame present, as creating it himself would be impossible for his limitations. His Hellfire is his greatest offense to any other being, and at times that has proven to even fall short.
Personality.
In a word: conflicted. Aurelianus, most commonly referred to as Antoine, has developed a complete and utter disdain for his demonic nature. Nearly thirteen hundred years of his life were spent in the battlefield fighting wars that paralleled the Holy Crusades of E-arth. His time in the conflicts and in war, killing countless and condemning their souls, had an adverse effect on his demonic nature. His mutation - a genetic one as he was borne of demonic lineage - made his instincts manifest in a piece of flesh that fell from his body and hardened as the blade known as Malignitas. Subsequently, the years of wielding his sword were spent with his physical body not completely in tune with his demonic nature, thus giving him what few demons have: a conscience. In his case, an incredibly hefty one. Although he is at times consumed by his demonic nature (and goes on killing rampages accordingly), he feels intense sadness and grief for doing so. So much that roughly four hundred years of his life were spent in solitude, attempting to understand himself and fight off his homicidal tendencies.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
Not a lot yet, but it will cause internal conflict as his wish is to forfeit the cruelty that he deals.
◑ Sir Seil ◑
Due to his countless centuries in combat where he was led by some of the most charismatic demons alive, Antoine is able to easily see through the charm Sir Seil seemingly naturally has. Over the course of... countless years, Mr. Seil attempted to 'recruit' Antoine a number of times with various offers and deals. Antoine normally rejected all of them because, well, who can trust a demon? Especially a demon compared to, quite frequently, the generals found within Hell's armies. It was only due to his sheer desperate soul and intense remorse over his demonic nature that he ultimately came to Mr. Seil himself and asked, if not begged, if Mr. Seil had the power to turn a demon like himself - one with arguably more blood and more sin on his hands and in his past - into a mortal without sin and without demonic temptation. A contract was signed between them, and that contract truly defines how Antoine sees their relationship: desperate, unwanted, but absolutely necessary.
◑ Rosalina Bell Seil ◑
Introduced to Antoine by Sir Seil himself, Rosalina seemingly means nothing to Antoine and he has no interest in her. Unless his bloodlust and subsequent love of angelic plasma should surface, Antoine has no current reason to have an interest in Rosalina. If anything, she poses a threat to his goal as if anything she could become an outlet for his temptation, although ironically not the temptation most men are subjected to around such beauty. Regardless, Antoine outwardly and thus inwardly has little opinion of her yet, aside from her liability.
◑ Andracos Soleviel ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Vincent Nicolas ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Arina Lécuyer ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Soren Novák ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Pachid Coyotas ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Ty ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Imalia ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Jing ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Elynne ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Llewelyn ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Angoriel ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ Sarah Hiddle ◑
Yet to be introduced.
◑ JaSi ◑
Yet to be introduced.
A child born in rage and spite
Of a race thrown down below
That wished for freedom and of flight
But, no help they could implore
In the end. their search for light
Left Hell in blood and gore...
Of his race, he stood proud; his wings a-many hue
Seeds heaven sewn by Hell made his power true
Glorious wings of feathered brim were met by others, two
Brilliant wings of faerie charm or demon blood, were with what he flew
An angel, a demon, or merely a trickster still?
He was any and all the above, t'was his Twilight skill
Jayce was one of the first of the Fae to be born outside Urbaniel. His generation, called the the Generation of Respite, have encountered several new challenges while trying to integrate themselves into the world. For the most part, the Fae have found sanctuary in several Azure cities or countrysides as most races find their triumphant escape from Urbaniel after a curse as old as Sirens themselves quite inspiring. Oddly enough, it is the Angels, Faeries and Demons - all of whom share blood with the Fae - that have such a great distaste for the relatively new race. Regardless, Jayce found himself growing up in the streets of a large Azure city alongside a gang of friends (all punks) of several races that just tried to have fun while barely getting by.
Even at an early age, Jayce found himself attuned to magic. Of all kinds, actually. Although he was most skilled with that of the Wind, he found himself completely capable with every element and even a few combinations thereof. It wasn't uncommon among the Fae. Most of his race could actually control any branch of magic; their appearance would simply reflect their use of it due to what was dubbed the Twilight, ie a mix of Light and Shadow. Ultimately, Jayce gave his magical prowess no real regard throughout his youth, although he did admittedly take it for granted. Few in the world, especially at such a young age, found themselves as proficient with all fields of magic, let alone a single one.
Jayce entered his teens and found romance. He became the evening Casanova of many in the city, and his bloodline made him a favorite of many whom looked for a more tame demon or a sinful angel to play with. It was actually the lustful acts of sin that opened Jayce up to his unique ability to manipulate the Twilight that was merely a side-effect to most of his race. As more women might want a fallen Angel to play with, Jayce found himself able to manipulate his appearance to reflect that. Angel wings and a pure aura surrounding him, he could fool almost anyone. Similarly, he could sway the Twilight to the shadows, growing horns, tinting his skin and darkening his wings. It was this unique and profound ability that caught the eye of Mr. Seil, and led Jayce to his time in the De' Seil Carnival.
At 19, Jayce signed the contract. He wanted to know what he was, and moreover, why he could manipulate the Twilight. His wish was forsimple knowledge. He knew he was Fae, but no other Fae or being in history could freely change themselves as he could. He wanted to know his limits. He wanted to know if he was meant to be Angel, Demon or somewhere in between? Was he just a mutated Fae? Was this because of the unique nature of Fae blood? Was this something new to his race or was this something only he could do? All of these answers depended on his contract. In truth, and this may have been the case for Mr. Seil, he wanted to know the limits of Twilight. Was it just an extension of Faerie genetics, or was it truly a merger of the Light and Shadow? Jayce might be the key to understanding that question.
Even at an early age, Jayce found himself attuned to magic. Of all kinds, actually. Although he was most skilled with that of the Wind, he found himself completely capable with every element and even a few combinations thereof. It wasn't uncommon among the Fae. Most of his race could actually control any branch of magic; their appearance would simply reflect their use of it due to what was dubbed the Twilight, ie a mix of Light and Shadow. Ultimately, Jayce gave his magical prowess no real regard throughout his youth, although he did admittedly take it for granted. Few in the world, especially at such a young age, found themselves as proficient with all fields of magic, let alone a single one.
Jayce entered his teens and found romance. He became the evening Casanova of many in the city, and his bloodline made him a favorite of many whom looked for a more tame demon or a sinful angel to play with. It was actually the lustful acts of sin that opened Jayce up to his unique ability to manipulate the Twilight that was merely a side-effect to most of his race. As more women might want a fallen Angel to play with, Jayce found himself able to manipulate his appearance to reflect that. Angel wings and a pure aura surrounding him, he could fool almost anyone. Similarly, he could sway the Twilight to the shadows, growing horns, tinting his skin and darkening his wings. It was this unique and profound ability that caught the eye of Mr. Seil, and led Jayce to his time in the De' Seil Carnival.
At 19, Jayce signed the contract. He wanted to know what he was, and moreover, why he could manipulate the Twilight. His wish was forsimple knowledge. He knew he was Fae, but no other Fae or being in history could freely change themselves as he could. He wanted to know his limits. He wanted to know if he was meant to be Angel, Demon or somewhere in between? Was he just a mutated Fae? Was this because of the unique nature of Fae blood? Was this something new to his race or was this something only he could do? All of these answers depended on his contract. In truth, and this may have been the case for Mr. Seil, he wanted to know the limits of Twilight. Was it just an extension of Faerie genetics, or was it truly a merger of the Light and Shadow? Jayce might be the key to understanding that question.
[The Fae | Male | 23]
Full Name:
Jayce
Most used Elemental Power:
Wind
Twilight Development:
Although Jayce can manipulate his Twilight, he does actually have a natural status of it. Due to his lustful nature and curious past as a street punk, his wings, are a dark purple with streaks of pink and dots of a green shine. Additionally, his wings are only medium-sized, although this is yet to be a sign of maturation, Twilight impedance or Fae genetics.
When manipulating his Twilight, however, his wings can grow into large, beautiful angelic wings that have a unique pink tint to them. His arua can be dazzling and bright, almost free of taint. Even other angels themselves might have difficulties discerning if he was a real angel or not, to a far greater degree than any Faerie trickster. On the other hand, his wings can also grow large and red, without feathers and reflecting the bestial nature of demons. The aura and scent around him becomes the demonic odor most know and he can even change his skin tone to a darker red and horns as well as claws while completing this transformation. Neither of these statuses, however, are natural.
When manipulating his Twilight, however, his wings can grow into large, beautiful angelic wings that have a unique pink tint to them. His arua can be dazzling and bright, almost free of taint. Even other angels themselves might have difficulties discerning if he was a real angel or not, to a far greater degree than any Faerie trickster. On the other hand, his wings can also grow large and red, without feathers and reflecting the bestial nature of demons. The aura and scent around him becomes the demonic odor most know and he can even change his skin tone to a darker red and horns as well as claws while completing this transformation. Neither of these statuses, however, are natural.
Wing Appearance:
Dark Wing Appearance
Light Wing Appearance
Significant/Special Belongings:
Jayce has been a run-a-way and free floater for most of his life, living with what was often on his back. He has nothing of actual value, special or significant.
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Jayce has had few actual confrontations in his life. He specializes in evasion, running and neutralizing offensive threats. Most of the magic he uses isn't for combat, but for learning or simply to show off.
Job Title & Description:
Jayce is a jack-of-all trades, often assisting where requested. A majority of the time, he is an advertiser and helping hand during shows.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
10,000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
12
What Was Your Wish?
To understand what he is and why he can manipulate the Twilight.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
5,673
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
4
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
At first, Jayce was conflicted and reluctant to collect souls. Doing so turned him darker, his wings were given black tints. He simply disliked it. Over time, however, he found it easier and decided to never harvest souls in distasteful manners. Most of the time, Jayce performs incredible acts in Azure where he showcases his ability to essentially transform from demon to angel, and collects souls via branding them that way. In such a case, he rarely feels guilt or remorse for his actions as they, of course, were earned through showmanship.
Personality:
Jayce is fairly whimsical at times. Like the wind, his desires and attitude changes frequently. At times, he speaks with conviction an honor while at other times, he might just wanna get into Ty's pants. Actually, scratch that; the latter might be a set goal of his. IN ANY CASE, Jayce holds freedom high. He hates the idea of being imprisoned or chained to Mr. Seil as his entire race was literally bound to Hell by a curse, but at the same time he is often the subject of special treatment. What he wanted was the same thing Mr. Seil was interest in, thus the terms for his duty was bound short. A mere thousand souls a year is nothing in comparison to others. Jayce is quite prideful in the sense he is already more skilled with the four basic elements at the age of 23 than some people ever get in their lives. In addition to that, he does somewhat have a Messiah complex, albeit it is quite internalized. Part of him oddly believes it is a possible (hopes for might be a better phrase here) that he is somehow the perfect merger of Angel and Demon and might usher in some form of new era due to it. His current goal, alongside collecting souls, is to master the elements solely to conduct another test: can he control the Shadow or the Light? If so, which? Maybe both? These ideas fill his mind with wonder and give him a sense of pride as he honestly believes it is a possibility. All of it centers around the question: what is the Twilight?
☺ Mr. Seil ☺
Mr. Seil has never been anything but kind to me. The only time he has ever even been the slightest bit rude to me was when quite bluntly telling me that a single act of questionable intentions around Rosalina might mean the end of my Fae days. Granted, I've heard worse threats from angry cuckolds, so it's not new to me. I have no intention on betraying Mr. Seil in any way, though. He has given me a fair deal and often invites me to ask my opinions or how my abilities are developing. At times, he requests I work with others for specific shows, but nothing big. I'm part demon, so I have no reason to judge him or anyone based on their bloodline.
◑ Rosalina Bell Seil ◑
Beautiful, sure, but I'm not risking my deal and my life over her. I know very little about her, but she is kind. I'm not even for sure if she knows what my contract is. I have, however, seen her give me a distasteful look when I boast. A lot of women do. I should probably work on that.
☺ Andracos Soleviel ◑
This guy right here reminds me of my friends from way back. He is a bit batshit crazy, though. What fun is winning over a gal if you're just going to rape her? I mean, the guy has even more talent than I do in that game. There is no reason he should have to rape anything. Even still, competing with him gets fun until he gets pissy. He doesn't lose often, but when he does, Mr. Seil has to remind him that the rules still apply to him. I'd call him a friend, if he's in a good mood.
☺ Vincent Nicolas ◑
Another guy that has the potential to be fun, but just takes shit way to seriously. I mean, c'mon, you're an angel, great, I can be one, too! Watch? ...
Oh, you don't think that's funny. BITCH WE'RE IN A CIRCUS. Anyway, if I'm not riding his last nerve from what I feel like is just seeing too much of himself in another person, he's not such a bad guy. I'd go out to a bar with him, unless he's too good for that, too.
Oh, you don't think that's funny. BITCH WE'RE IN A CIRCUS. Anyway, if I'm not riding his last nerve from what I feel like is just seeing too much of himself in another person, he's not such a bad guy. I'd go out to a bar with him, unless he's too good for that, too.
◑ Arina Lécuyer ◑
Ooooh, another sexy demon girl. Haven't seen a dozen of those already. This one is a bit feisty, but no more than some of the streetwalkers I've seen. I mean, on a drunk night, I'd lay that, but I should probably abide by the rule: "don't stick your dick in crazy"..
☺ Soren Novák ☺
This mother fucker right here! This is the type of guy Andracos and Vincent could be like if they got those rods out of their asses. I mean, c'mon, he's just around for shits'n'giggles at this point. He's one of my favorite people here so far..
◑ Pachid Coyotas ◑
He's really quiet and I've seen his eyes rolled in distaste as well. I'm not for sure if he's lazy, or just sort've a bitch. We rarely talk..
☺ Ty ♥
Beautiful and just out of reach. Untouchable, like the wind. She can't be captured, but not for any reason like Rosalina. There is something about her. Something magical and devastating, like a typhoon to be summoned, yet... gentle, like a gust made with a soft stroke of the hand. I'd pass up a lay with any combination of girls here at the circus for a quick kiss from her, but with her being surrounded by confident, powerful circus freaks all her life, I have no way how I'd express that sincerely. I don't even know if I'm being sincere or if it's just the prospect of a game I can't win. I really don't want it to be the latter. I sometimes think that might be why in three years, I've never expressed anything to her.
◑ Imalia ◑
I've never laid a mermaid, man, but I should probably stick to the same rule as Anna..
◑ Jing ◑
TRAP. HE'S A FUCKING TRAP. DO NOT LAY. I REPEAT. DO NOT LAY.
◑ Elynne ◑
WIP until personality is wrote..
◑ Angoriel ◑
Not such a bad guy, but far too serious for my tastes. I don't want to get him angry and oddly enough I do try to be polite in his presence. I'm somewhat seen as a counterpart to people like Andracos and Vincent. They seem to behave around this guy, so I probably should, too..
◑ Antoine ◑
If you took Angoriel and reversed his polarity, you'd have Antoine. SEE: Angoriel.
◑ Sarah Hiddle ◑
An angel and a particularly difficult game to win. I'd probably have tried quite distinctively to win her over if not for fear of offending Ty. I should probably work on that. I feel a bit obsessive. Some people say it's natural. Most people even say it's harmless, since I never really act on it. Holy shit, am I talking about Ty in Sarah's comment? Damnit..
◑ JaSi ◑
DON'T STICK YOUR DICK IN CRAZY, MAN. She is a Faerie, though. She's never said anything, but most Faeries hate the Fae, so I might not have to worry about it.
◑ Genie ◑
Games aren't fun when they're too easy... besides, a French werewolf just sounds like a hairy mess.
◑ Llewelyn ◑
Not the first guy I'd invite out, but not too bad of a guy. I think he might need laid, not for sure.
◑ Robin ◑
She seems fine. I have no attraction towards her. Possibly the most neutral person here. The dolls are a bit creepy, tho.
Master Jaster
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Significant/Special Belongings: The Glove of the Wander, a pair of brass knuckles that have been lined with iron, a charm that holds no power and grants no abilities, a stone ring that symbolizes Glandrëch’s ownership of Llewelyn and allows the two to communicate, a nice pair of sunglasses, and a crisp leather notebook.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: Versatile in hand to hand combat, skillful in knife/dagger combat, knowledgeable on the operation of firearms
Llewelyn, having grown up in the Azure, has been exposed to all sorts of different supernatural beings. This has caused him to become a very cautious fighter, picking his fights carefully and never underestimating his enemies.
Weapon of Choice:
Glove of the Wander: The Glove of the Wander was given to Llewelyn by the demon Glandrëch shortly before he joined up with the circus. The glove instantly molds with its user's body, causing the hand that wears it to be covered with symbols and markings, resembling elaborate tattoos. An untrained eye would only think that Llewelyn is an ink enthusiast. The most notable function of the glove is its 6 "shots" that it holds. The glove has the ability to fire 6 concentrated blasts of energy that can tear apart the fabric of whatever form of matter it comes into contact with. The 6 shots are represented by 6 hollow circles surrounding the insignia on the back of the user’s gloved hand. After each shot, the user will experience an icy/electric surge through their hand, and one of the circles will shrink, closing the gap inside of itself. Every time the sun rises (or whatever equivalent this is in the realm Llewelyn is in at the time) the shots reset. The glove also enhances its user's physical capabilities significantly and heightens the user's senses. While these physical and sensory buffs do make a large difference in the user's performance, they are not so extreme that the user will be able to do anything particularly superhuman. For example, A user would not be able to catch a bullet, but a knife thrown by someone without supernatural strength (ie: someone who couldn't throw the knife as fast as a bullet) could easily be caught. A user could also not lift objects of particularly heavy weight, such as a car or a horse. The sensory buffs apply only to sight and hearing.
Anyone who takes on such an item is cursed with sterility; Llewelyn will never be able to reproduce. The glove also allocates twenty years of the user’s predestined lifespan to itself.
How You Came to be in Azure: When he was 9 years old, Llewelyn’s parents traded him to the demon Glandrëch as a means to settle their debt. Glandrëch, ever gazing into the future, placed Llewelyn in the Azurian city of Krÿmias, a cross roads of the mortal and immortal realms; a place where Glandrëch knew Llewelyn would grow to be the husk he needed him to be.
Job Title & Description:
Llewelyn is part of a 2 man act involving daring acts of gymnastics and sleight of hand. From knife juggling, throwing, and the eventual catching, to cartwheeling and summersaulting through flames and other dangerous “things”. The untrained eye would see Llewelyn’s job as incredibly dangerous.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
((1,000,000))
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
((200))
What Was Your Wish?
For the Demon Glandrech to regain his immortality.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
0
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
I plan on the character's arriving at the carnival to be the first thing I write about in character.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
Having grown up a murderer and a thief, the act of collecting soul has not really swung Llewelyn one way or another. He sees the act as a necessary evil he must complete in order to preserve that which is important to him, as well as the promised eventual release from Glandrech’s service. The knowledge that he must collect as many souls as he must, as well as the time span he would inevitably be in this carnival has done much to crush Llewelyn’s spirits.
Personality
Llewelyn has always had trouble interacting with others. His life as a street urchin in one of the most dangerous cities in the realm has made it difficult for him to trust people, and the nature of his relationship with Glandrëch only furthered this sentiment. That said he is able to become well acquainted with others he works with or lives with for extended periods of time. His having a sister as a child has made it easy for him to get along with women, though the nature of his lifestyle, as well as recent medical developments, have made it difficult for him to maintain relationships.
Ugly Placeholder Bio
Llewelyn grew up in the slums of Krÿmias, one of the more dangerous cities of Azure. From age 9 to 20, Llewelyn’s life was constantly in the balance. The first couple of years of his life in Azure were spent with a small gang of young beings like himself, led by an 18 year old mutant. The gang would steal and mug to survive, a profession that led many of the members to early deaths due to the nature of the city’s inhabitants. For years Llewelyn bounced between gangs, betraying the weaker ones in order to ensure his survival and staying in line with the stronger ones. When Llewelyn was 14, his luck finally ran out. He had been a member of a gang, the first where he respected some of the members, and life was going relatively well for him.
On one particularly dreary day, two men showed up at the group’s hideout. The two were corrupt enforcers who were sent to kill all the members of this particular gang, as the gang had stolen from the wrong person at one point or another. Almost all of the gang members were killed, save Llewelyn and a few cowards who fled. Llewelyn was taken to a jail to have his soul removed and body harvested, but the carriage he was being transported in was struck by another one. Llewelyn killed the two enforcers while they were stunned, and fled into the city streets, mortally wounded and disoriented. He was found in a dumpster by and old warlock, who took pity on him and nursed him to health. When he woke up, Llewelyn stole some of the “shinier” objects he could see and fled. With the money he made from these objects, Llewelyn bought some nicer clothes and got a job at an inn. For about a year, things went smoothly. One day, a group of kids not to different than the ones Llewelyn used to run with held up the in. Accidents happened, and the inn was burned to the ground. Llewelyn was picked up by some enforcers who came to put out the fire. He was recruited into the city watch and worked as one of the men he used to and still did hate. (throughout this whole time, Llewelyn made close friends, lovers, and acquaintances who helped him through his time in the city. I just hate writing these summaries of character’s lives so I’ll go into them later)
((((^^^^^^^^FIX ALL OF THIS^^^^^^^^)))))
When he was 20, Glandrech's husks came for him. Llewelyn was brought to Glandrëch's hideout, an abandoned mansion in a secluded valley. It was here Llewelyn learned the nature of his relationship with Glandrëch, as well as the influence the demon had had over the events of his life. Llewelyn was given the stone ring, as well as an ultimatum: "Play the part we need you to, or bring hell to all those you hold dear". Llewelyn became one of Glandrëch's greatest husks, performing his jobs with efficient brutality and never voicing a word of complaint. Eventually, Glandrech gave Llewelyn a strange order: “Go to the carnival and get me my immortality back. Do this, and our ties are cut”.
Additional important notes
At some point, Llewelyn had twins. These children, along with everyone Llewelyn has ever met, are what Glandrech uses as leverage to control him. If Llewelyn were to die, his curse would be passed on to the next generation of his family. If Llewelyn disobeys an order or abandons his mission, the stone ring he wears will induce mind shattering pain and eventually kill him (unless he promises to never do whatever he did again, of course). The only way for him to be free of this curse is to do as Glandrech asks until his supposed eventual release, a time which Llewelyn can only hope for.
Sugary Poison
Girlie Go Boom Hey~hey~!!
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
~BOING!!!~
Full Name: Hiiiii! A name you require? Hahahah! Oh, but ya knows me...! 'Tis 'Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard' but no one calls me Blueberry. Nor Moon. So I go by my Orchard name, Jassesi, or know what? You can call me as they call me... by me professional name: 'JaSi.'
Age: I will be 101 next spring! But I am told were I human, I would be really short. As tall as child human am I! And I would look like a younger teen... with golden eyes... and blue hair... and pointied ears... and with wings... loverly, strong and buzzy wings!!! Aye!!!
Gender: Lass! I likes to wear plaid skirts, white long sleeve tops with open backs, but not stockings nor shoes... lest I be workin' of course...
Species: Silly... sniff me! I smell like flowers! I was born from a blue blossom in the Jassesi Orchard! I'm a Faerie!
Most used Elemental Power:
'Tis fire, but not really good at the controlling or shaping of it like other fae. I can make fire, but only small ones. But truth be told, this faerie is pretty good at working the brighter parts of fires, aye. I can make the light coming from... oh, say a burning match, become as bright as a spotterlight! Oh so grandiose... well... maybe. But right, so 'tis true, maybe not as impressive a skill as it should be from a Fae such as a Jassesi-born, but that's what I do.
Wing Development:
Oh! But strong they are! And noisy. They hum very nicely, I must say! They are twin pairs like most faeries. Strong and fast they are! Fast enough to flee from that Andracos! and hide behind Genie! Ewwwww... that... that Andi-gross is a yucky Toucher Hahahahah!!! Oh but aye, they do need to be strong for I am lead in the kite formation! Ooohhh... one time we were angels! So beautiful! We were a bunch of Tanya's and Rosie's and CeCi's... oh but mercy upon me fallen wingsy...!
Wing Appearance:
Significant/Special Belongings:
A seed from the Orchard when I am ready to plant it and make mine own babbies! Oh! And my collection of strange, unique and pretty baubles and things!
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Oh! But I have been training with Genie and previously with CeCi! Oh aye, I have! And I can fight you now, oh, I can! But I don't like to hit. Or fight. Soooooo... I mostly use this my trademark techniques...! Ummm... I shall call it... “Glow n' Go!” I would blind my attacker with bright light then I will fly away with buzzy strong and fast wings!! But... failing that, I will hafta' burns their skin to release me... I don't like such a thing. Oh, dear, what a terrible thing to do to another... and such a stench... buuuut...
...as I said, I have been training with Genie and I will snarl and mayhaps even bite ya instead of burnin' ROWR!!! Hahahah...!
~Uhhhhh... no. She has been trained but she's hurt herself more times while training than any of her sparring partners ever hurt her. Combined. But she continues to try hard because training makes Genie all happy and giggly when she watches JaSi try to fight.
Weapon of Choice:
Dunno really. Never hit anyone with anything before... ohhh! Name-calling! Fairies have such creative words for insulting big meanies!!! Ahhh... ne'er ye mind. I don't like to say bad words neither... 'Tis me magic then... hmm... perhaps pouring some Amber down their throats to turn them all drunkard? Hahahah... dunno...
Job Title & Description:
Kite-Flier and Lead Light Tech! I help t'make and fly the pretty puppety flying things above the Carny! Oh! And I am the Lead Light Tech of the aerial team cuz... well.. I am the only one on the aerial team that makes light-- bright light, mind you --! and I'm takin' over for me mentor, the fallen and lost one, me loverly angel no more, Miss Celleci.. mercy on her soul, but oh Wingsy... miss ya much n' much more than that, aye...
Oh! But I do also tend to the barrels and brew! Silly! Am I not a Jassessi Faerie?! Aye, but of course I am and again aye!!! We do make such loverly drink ya know?! It is me natural born talents afterall! Here, pass me a mug... there... now just a sip, you! Tis stronger than the piss of a werewolf! Hahahah!!! Oh but I shouldn't say that for Genie will bite me arse but I do so love the sound of it when Arina does say that! Hahahah...!
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
I have collected only 10. But none more do I have to collect! Aye! I'm done, I am!
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
Well, ahhh... Mr. Seil, sweetest gent he is, allowed me all the time in the world, of course. Loves him like my Da, do I... and so anyway, I did complete my collection in under 50 years!
What Was Your Wish?
I wished for my parents to come back t'me and bring me home to the Orchard.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
Silly! Completed my collection have I! All 10!
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
52 years. Oh! 'Tis more than half me life!
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
Oh pish. 'Twas not a thing, really! Genie helped me! Oh but she is sooooo bright, that one, aye... Before me days when the Mistress of Lighting and Design had me as a kite maker and flyer, she taught me that soul branding was easy and not mean atall! By punishing the wrinkly meanie mortal males that wanted to put their tongues in the mouths of sweetheart blue-headed faes and to touch their 'womanly parts' was I able to complete my collection. 'Twas not a thing. They deserved it, said Genie! It was a kissing booth! Not a lecher's lick and grope booth said Genie!
Personality: I am soooo helpful and I aim to please, no matter what it is I do! Maybe I'm too heavy with the drink, but I'm a Jassesi Orchard fae! We brew it all for free and we drink for you n' me! And so pass on a drink for all, whether they be large or small! We drink for you n' me, and so for you we pee! Hahahah...! Oh drunken songs... Right. So I am soooo creative and with grand thoughts as always! I have a smile for all and a gift for ye should ye be deservin' such a thing! Sometimes the gifts are things I trade with others to give away as gifts.
But leisure time is short for this fae, 'tis sadness, tis. Being in charge of lights and kites does drain me so. And I do keep up what I learned from poor, poor, CeCi, mercy upon such a poor soul, but alas, she did train me for: 'the fight to come.' Training... yuck! Oh, though this faerie did keep her promise... but does such a thing ever make me weary...! BUT! Strong now is Blueberry Moon... aaaaaand sexy!!! Shake what me mums given me! Cannae take yer eyes off it now, can ya?! Hypnotice! Hahahahah!!
~As a faerie, Jassesi believes that items she finds left not in homes, but in the open are items forgotten and not worthy enough to be kept on a body. And so she 'claims a gift.' Basically taking it and leaving another item she finds of value in its place; a faerie trade! But as a faerie, pretty rocks or even pine-cones with even-numbered protrusions are valuable to her.
~She also has issues with not being liked, perhaps its from her cutesy, happy type of faerie, but it is a complex that is greater within her than any other Jassesi Orchard Fae. She did have issue with being a bit pudgy since her fae type are rounder than other faeries, but she has started comparing her 'looks' with other females ever since she fulfilled her soul collection. Part of the reason she does continually work out is because she stares at the taller and thinner body types, especially of the angels, and has a bit of a secret obsession to obtain that body type. And even though Genie has been 'straightened out' by CeCi before the fallen angel left, Genie still does provoke JaSi with small comments about weight and looks even during times they are not working out together.
~She tends to subconsciously pick up other folks speech patterns and when she realizes she does, she pours it on thick, thinking it flatters the other person, although it sounds like she's mocking them, she not because... well, she is not the brightest bulb out there to say the least... it took her almost 50 years to collect her soul quota via Genie's kissing booth.
~Quite gullible and always aiming to please, JaSi became rather attached to Genvieve, a sultry werewolf Alpha since upon arrival, Genie took the little fae in. From there Genie taught JaSi how to do work as a kissing booth maiden. And of course, Genie taught the blue-headed fae exercises before going to the kissing booth. Sexy and sultry exercises. Ones that started off with warming up in clothes then ending up sweaty with nothing on save her wings . It was a strange work out room. A strangely round room. With peepholes in them. Those that would witness her exercises, ecstatic and erect they were, and in such a state, Genie branded them all as the dancing little JaSi (the lesbifae as Genie called her behind her back) did all the work shrouded to the true nature of Genie's 'kindness' in teaching Jassesi to 'exercise.'
That ended when CeCi politely removed the fae from the possesion of the werewolf. Politely, aye and again aye. With a promise.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?:
I was a 'Dandelion Fluff.' A lost faerie. I was a wee thing when I met Mr. Reciful Seil... but then again, faeries are wee things. Nevermind. I was young..ger then... but still looked the same as I do now so... anyway...! When I was not this age, but one with fewer numbers, I was sent away from our Orchard... I... I thought it was 'cuz I wasn't good enough...I couldn't heat cauldrons like the others... but it was for another reason I, Blueberry Moon just wasn't good enough... I... anyway...
I'm going to read it to you, cuz it makes better sense when I read it than when I say it. Starla was nice enough to write it for me and make my thoughts sound... more beautiful than they really are.
Right. Deep breath... Ready?
It was a time of turmoil for the grown Jassesi fae and a sad, sad time for the youngest of the children from our Orchard. Most of the child Jassesi faes were rounded up and guided away to the mirror-pool. This was our looking glass into the Earth world of mortals. It was here where we watched and sent out our bravest to the master brewers in that Earth world. Aye, most humans do not know that their best brews are made by 'accidents.' We would trade with them. Strange items they left meant to be 'claimed as gifts' we exchanged for our knowledge in brewing.
But this time, this final time we were gathered, just us gals. There we stood, all nerves and wide-eyed wonder, as we spied into the mirror-pool. Little did we know what was to happen next. All little sisters were we all right there, and all right there were pushed in before our time of rite of passage.
I watched as one by one, the others cried before being cast into the mirror-pool, watching as they were tossed in and about the Earth world; we were dropped like leaves in autumn and like autumn leaves we landed in random spots. Spread across the Earth world were me and mine own sister Jassesi Orchard Fae. Never to be seen again, for they never wished upon a parchment as Blueberry Moon did.
Cast from the Azure world, and a lifetime away, I wandered aimlessly, nothing but the cloth upon me and the only reminder of home, the gift given to me. I knew better than to encroach or encounter the giants of the land. Even the smaller ones, the human children were dangerous, our grown fae said to us; they would tell on me and I would be caught. They would pick my wings off, shave my hair, and pluck out my eyes for I was different, too different from they.
But then the day came when I found Mr. Reciful Seil... or was it the other way 'round? He stood there, cane in one hand, hat freshly taken off, and with a bow he introduced himself. Taken was I by such a being and a blur of thankfully precious sounds in memory are now the words he spoke; what does it matter anyway...
...I signed the contract, I did and it was the best thing I ever did in my entire life. For we are all family here at the De'Seil Carnival.
Because, oh the years rolled by and I was successful in fulfilling my contract. Nearly 50 years and but only 10 souls did I have to have my wish become reality. What emotions I felt, I cannot say, for they are not with me now.
What was it I wished? I wished my parents come to me and take me back home.
Mr. Seil was there by my side as we waited at the top of the hill, near the babbling creek, neath the canopy that cut the rays of the freshly awoken sun.
My golden eyes darted this way and that in anxious anticipation for them. My heart thudded so hard in my chest, but in rhythm to a song of love long lost and near unknown by now. Then I felt his hand upon my chin. So gently, so carefully and fatherly did he turn my visage towards a wish fulfilled.
There they were. My parents.
Hands held out, faces filled with such strong emotion.
Hands held out in a failed desperate attempt to shield themselves. Faces frozen with stark terror, knowing their fate was sealed.
Frozen. Literally.
The reason became apparent right then and there; we, my sisters and I were sent away for preservation.
The Jassesi fae were all killed. Our enemies of the Frosted Mountains wiped us out. I wished for my parents to return and there they were. I cried and cried and cried as they melted before me in the rays of the Earth world's single bright star.
And he held me all the while.
When I could finally speak, between sobs, I asked him about the other part of my wish; to be taken home to the Orchard.
Without a word, Mr. Reciful Seil, opened my clenched fist, revealing the glowing seed I was given at the mirror-pool. I stared at it as it flickered with blue ghost flames as it never once did here, but would always be such a thing in Azure.
“You are always welcome here, Blueberry Moon...” he said with the voice driven by the breath of a deity then with his cane, he pointed at the seed from the Azure world, “until then...”
It all made sense just then and as he held me I cried and cried and cried until the moon rose in the sky pregnant and full like the hopes in my heart that made me shed tears now.
I do not take a mate with a male and thus, I cannot make flowers to birth mine own offspring. And the grown fae knew that about me. And my sisters, the ones cast into the Earth world like leaves in the wind, they were just like me; they would never seed with a male. But there is a way to keep our type of Orchard Faerie's bloodline continuing without a male.
We were meant to be preserved for we were the contingency plan. The grown faeries. My parents. All parents from our Orchad knew they would lose, lose everything, versus those of the Frosted Mountains. And so we did lose. And so there I stood, revelations scorching my mind, tears falling from mine eyes.
And so.
And so when I am ready, and with my mate, a very female one, I will plant this seed in the Azure and flowers will bloom and we will have our own children and regrow our Jassesi Orchard anew. But until then...
“Until then, Mr. Reciful Seil--”
I took the final memories of my people, the melted ice droplets of water at our feet, and by the light of the moon, we made our way back to the carnival.
“--I am home...”
(Urps! ~~Sugary Poison!!!)
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
The Wish Master ~ ☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺!!!
Of course I loves him!!!! Oh, but like a father he is to our family, aye and yet again a hearty aye! AYE!!!! Handsome and imposing, stern yet giving... oh he lets me live here. Oh, Mr. Reciful Seil... oh but Blueberry Moon is at home here. Home!!!
Rosalina Bell Seil ~ ☺♥
Such a loverly being... we do not keep each others company much since I am but a technician and she is... well, she is Rosalina the Angel Doll afterall... but oh, she does set mine eyes aglow, she does... such a loverly voice... and oh those legs... how I do love to have mine golden eyes trace such loverly, lovery things.... aye... such a shape of her as she sits there all loverly and cross-legged-like... tracing from ankles up to knee wondering what it would be like to continue past th'knees and beyond... soooo slowly along those thighs ... oooh... and then upward still sooooo slowly until I can trace-- Oh! NAY! And again nay. Notherning atall, Mrs. Reciful Seil! Aye! Perhaps a cold I do have! Right, I will wipe me drooly wet lips... ooohhh wet lips... Nay, Mrs. Seil...! Said nothing did this fae! Loverly e'ening then!
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☠
Ewww... And-he's-gross! The Toucher!!!! EWWWW!!!! Away you creepy creepy creeper creep!!! EWWW!!! Oh but wait till I tell me Genie what you try to make JaSi do!!! EWWWWW!!! So sexy, am I, I am! But no! Just no! Faerie sexiness is so not for you! Away you... you TOUCHER!!!! EWWWW!!!
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑
Oh but hmmm... a curious one this new one Vincent. He stands and holds himself sooooo much like my fallen wingsy, Celleci... just before she left here. If he's like CeCi then I cannot help but feel... pity for him too... but I do hope he is like nice like CeCi... that is once you get beyond the grr-grr-me-used-to-be-soooooo-awesomes-grr talk, cuz he used to be an angel too, I'm certain, oh I am.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ☺♥
Oh but I do like Arina! I do! Pretty and smiley as always. I know she and Genie are rivals since they both run similar kissing booths, but I dunno why they do not get along! They are sooooo nice to me and ask for nothing in return! Genie says Arina uses me and Arina says the same of Genie?! Confusing but I like Arina just the same! She always talks to me and involves me in her schemes! Lovery and pretty; she used to be an Angel! Believes that, I do, I do and I do so love doing tasks for her as well!
Soren Novák ~ ☺
Soren! Good-looking and always nice, Soren. I know he is sooooo important in helping run the Carnival with Mr. Seil so he doesn't view me important! But all the same, when he does chat with this little blue-headed fae, oh but do I listen! I dunno why so many dislike him! He helps Mr. Seil afterall! So confusing...
Pachid Coyotas ~ ◑☺
Pachid seeeeeems okay... I been polite to him for decades and he sometimes smiles when I'm about, but I do keep my distance... a good distance... afar distance... a good far, far distance. Not because he drinks other's blood but wherever Pachid is... well, so is EEEEWWWWWW!!!! Andi-gross is there too! And so each time I do-- EWW!!! There he is! EEEWWW!!! To Genie then, strong buzzy wings!!!
Reira Masin ~ ◑
'Twas a long time before I believed that humans were not all but a race of brutish, mean and inferior creatures. They actually seem rather okay...? Aye... but getting to know one... even one as bonnie darlin' as this new Reira... I still have me doubts but still I will smile and wave to it, because it is a new member here... though it does look lost here... pish... fiiiiiine...! I'll make friends!!! ~☺~ But only to observe and see if it is worthy to stay on in the carny... not because it has loverly long, long, long, juicy legs... not that Blueberry Moon has noticed... ahem...
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑
And-He's-Gross...! Just seeing Andracros makes me feel all yucky and ewww all over me sexy lil' body... but this Stefan... a different kinda' creepy he is. I swears I knows when he's peerin' over me shoulder from the shadows... I swears, I knows cuz me skin crawls and it feels like somebody be sniffin' at me neck and blowin in me ears at the same time. 'Don't trust this one, aye tis true, but then again, he only spies, ne'er once in me 50 plus years has he meant me harm nor harmed me... I hope that continues...
Ty~ ☺♥
I've known Ty since she was as little as me!!! I used to be able to carry her and flit and fly about the carny...! Hahahah... oh but I do so love her so much. So polite. So friendly. Never once has she had a mean thing to say 'bout this faerie! But then of course... they grow bigger and grow older. And Elementals will always grow away from you.. and leave you behind... that's what Genie says. We're still friendly but she seems to shush me so much more than when she was little as me. But I do so love me girl Ty so much... and oooohhh... such loverly blue eyes. I cannot help but stare at them always... like gems they are...! But Genie is right, I guess, maybe Starla has been a bad influence on Ty and maybe... maybe... we should do something to stop Starla from being so bad to Ty...? Dunno. But those gems of Ty don't look at me the same as before.
Aye, she's grown away from me but I love her still so much. We were friends once, we were. Arina says she knows why Ty doesn't like me as much anymore... and she says she will tell me! Just 132 more foot rubs! Hahahah... oh Arina is so giving. She normally charges 500 foot rubs for such information! And! Proud is this fae, for Arina says I give amaaaazing foot rubs, best she's had since several decades ago! Yay, Blueberry Moon!
Imalia ~ ☺♥
"In the darkest abode in the darkest corner in all of the De'Seil Carnival..." Sometimes when I feel lonely and all bads and sads... maybe this lass has been naughty or failed another in some way... when the days are darkest and the terrible sads befall me, I know that I will never have it as bad as Imalia. Oh, 'Mali... She's chained to her watery windowed cage. Why would they do that to her? Why would she not fight to get away? Sometimes I just sit there and talk to her or sometimes I just say fewer words and press meself up against the glass fondly and close me golden eyes and wonder just what 'Mali thinks all alone in there and feeling all bads and sads. She never comes to celebrate with us. She never comes to chat with us. I've known her ever since I arrived here.. and we been here about the same length of time too...! And yet still she never says a word to me when I come to visit her. Actually she never breaks the surface to greet me, and that's okay cuz she does frighten me somethin fierce, but I still come around and leave her two gifts anyways.
Each settlement we pass, after each ending to a performance, I always bring her two things. One is a gift that I traded; a gift from someone of the settlement we're 'bout to leave. Oh, ya know how it is... they left it behind for me to find and claim then exchange with something special of mine. The other is a sample of the latest batch of drink I've made. Dunno what she does with them or if she like what I give to her but... Genie says that if 'Mali hasn't killed me and eaten me all up yet, then I must be doing somethings good.
Jing Lao ~ ☺♥
Hahahahah! He is sooooo pretty and polite. A short time has he been here, but still more n' 'nuff to make quite the impression, aye. He smells of spices I never smelled before, he looks like a look I've never seen before. I do so find him so loverly to look at... so pretty and bendy too! I do so wish to know him better. I did trades a teacup he left as a gift for me with a dried leaf shaped like a dill-monkey paw. Oh ya should've seen that leaf too! It was the only one of its kind amongst the thousands and thousands of fallen leaves upon the ground! A rare and unique find indeed!
Elynne Meidre ~ ☠
'Member what I said about that witch Stefan Bostack...? Well, this Elynne Meidre or whatever it will call itself... I know what it really is, I do, and I do not like it. It is the one spirit that my Orchard Faeries detest most. They come to ruin grins, laughs n' smiles and celebrationary feelings, for they only come to bring despair, torment and blackened madness. They go places not meant to go... in through yer ears... and right into yer head thoughts. And yer dreams. We call 'em: Slenders. They go places not meant to go... and they murder happy faeries in their sleep.
Antoine ~ ◑
This is a new one. The lighting and rigging crew whisper that it is a demon. It doesn't seem so bad. And I like demons too! Arina is a good one. She was an Angel too...! I believes it, I do. She is teaching me how to make breakfast so I may serve it to her in bed! Such genius! Ne'er would I ever imagined such a fantastic thing to do! I have only 330 more times to practice then it will be Arina's turn to serve breakfast to my bed! Loverly, I knows... I wonder if this Antoine likes breakfast in his bed! Perhaps I shall teach it such a thing and make me breakfast in bed ~ ☺ ~! Aye, and again aye with a promise! Hahahah...!
Angoriel ~ ☺
I arrived here shortly after you. But we keep distance from each other. I know I annoy you. I know you'd rather keep your distance from me. But I know what you are. CeCi told me so. I have seen you perform. I have seen you angry. But I likes you cuz CeCi told me something about you that she never told you. She remembered you. Long ago, when CeCi was not CeCi, but someone else entirely, when her army held strong at the Faded Line; the battle at a bursted border between Limbel and Urbaniel, she remembers meeting you. They should have lost, she said. They should have fallen into the maw of Lies Eternal, she said. But some other angels saved her. Ones on the other side. She called them Tartystaras.. Tartarsausus... Angels in the Dark. She spoke fondly of you and your kind. For all your suffering and torment, in a war neverending, she and her battalions would pray for you eternal. My Celleci was a General fighting in the war of Ancients, she said. And now poor, poor thing... she is fallen and lost, mercy upon her soul.
But if never a chance did she have to tell you, Angoriel... then please let Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard be the one to tell ye, sir... she always wished for ye to hear these words from her lips: "Thank you, angel."
Oh! And me too...! Thank ya fer saving me wingsy... You are scary, but I likes ya, I do!!!
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑
'Member what I said about that human Reira...? Well, neither do I!!! Hahahahahah!!! OH, I makes me laugh, I do. Maybe this new human likes to laugh too..?
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☺ ♥
I love her, I love her, I love her, I dooooo!!! Such a sweet and caring being, that lass indeed! We were friends such a time ago. But oh how mortal time has changed her.. not in beauty cuz I still imagine she looks the same naked like when I think of how she looks naked before I fall aseep... nay, she had changed inside tis true. Oh but it is the time she spends her in the carny that holds her tongue from speaking her sweet words. The same I had seen in such a short time from CeCi, says Genie. But it's just like how Ty has grown away from me. Genie says that I must grow away from Sarah. I will only be hurt again, she says. Sarah will change and darken and I will feel all bads and sads. Maybe Genie is right... yet again. I should stay with only the ones who will always feel the same about me. Who loves ya? Genie does. For eternity.
But I will love you forever too, Sarah. 'Cuz Arina was an angel one time too, and look how much she likes me too! She lets me do tasks for her...! So aye. And again aye with a promise. You should still like me too... I hopes...
Jassesi ~ ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥!!!!
MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I loves sexy and loverly little me cuz I am soooooo smart! Aye, I am! I know so many things now! And! I am soooo helpful and I aim to please, no matter what it is I do! Maybe I'm too heavy with the drink, but I'm a Jassesi Orchard fae! We brew it all for free and we drink for you n' me! And so pass on a drink for all, whether they be-- I said that already? I did, did I? Oooooohhh...well... Genie says-- I say that a lot? I do, do I? Oooohhh... well then... ummmm... I like angels. Aye and again, aye. And I eats bugs too. Arina says they help ya lose weight and keep yer sexy body all slim and sexy-like, just like angels...! Oh! Arina used to be an angel, I believes it, I do-- I said that a few times already? Ooooohhh... I say a lot of things don't I...? Hahahahah!!!
...
Sooo... what was the question again?
Genvieve ~ ☺ ♥
I loves me Genie, I do so much loves her! She's known me ever since I came to the carny and successfully made true upon collecting souls. I love her and I know she loves me. She always involves me in her dreams and schemes. And she loves to laugh at things I say and funny things I do. We're good friends, aye and again aye. Even better since me wingsy, CeCi left us. I often do wonder what they talked about before she left...? But I do know she bonds with all the others at the 'Booths. I dunno why she's never bonded with me. She tells me secrets and tells me what I should be doing, oh she's a wise old wolf that one... but I do know that being bonded to Genvieve means instant protection; she knows how you are feeling and she will come to protect you if you need her. She loves me so... Why do I not get that bond from her...? Why?
I know she and Arina have some problems together and sometimes they do get along, but me I try to make both of them happy. Maybe I'm just not good enough for her. I can hear her sometimes bed with the other girls from the 'Booths and Oh! Not a single strand of jealousy does this little sexy bodied fae feel. Atall!! Nay and a promise to you! But she never seems to advance upon me like how I wish-- sometimes if at all since it would be rare-- for her to find me attractive. But I loves her all the same. She took me in from the get go when I arrived and not once has she ever grown away from me. We will always have our brew sessions together too.
And so I do let her be the first to taste each batch I brew up. We have our little drinking sessions then, just before I cork one up for 'Mali. It's in these sessions where we have close physical contact. And I like it. She tells me tales of her life long ago and shows me faint scars that did not disappear even though she possesses the Moonstone. Oh but most of them are nasty, nasty and terribly terrible stories. She has done some bad, very bad things, me Genie... And most times she laughs. And sometimes she cries. After a story I am off to see 'Mali or do mine own errands. After a story in which she laughs a lot, she kisses me on the lips and pinches me cheeks. After a story in which she cries, she usually passes out upon my lap and sleeps. I love it when she falls asleep in me lap. I stroke her fine goldeny strands of hair and sing to her before departing.
One time she turned over suddenly and she looked up at me and her pale blue eyes did not look like they belonged to Genie, but to a little girl who just startled awake. I waited for her to ask her familiar: "Who loves ya?" but instead she just smiled sheepishly and stated: "I love you, Blueberry Moon." Then she flopped back down and fell fast asleep. She had called me Blueberry Moon. No one calls me that. Except me family. But I kissed her cheek all the same and told her I loves her too. Next time I make a new batch, we will have a drinking session and I will ask her about that.
Robin~ ◑ ☠
Ewww... it is made of dead flesh. And it has creepy, creepy little meanie dollies in a satchel. It doesn't laugh with me, for me or at me. It just laughs cuz it knows what funny should be. It is hollow and frightening.. It shambles around with its meanie little dollies, all stitched together-like... I don't think it realizes that it smells... funny, not ha-ha funny but old, used and stitched together kind of funny... aye and a promise. And you know the giant puppetry things I make to fly high above the carny, tied up and controlled by cord tethered to ground? Well that is what this thing does to others; makes them into puppets. And dids I tell ya yet? It has meanie little dolles!!! I don't like it, but it hasn't done anything wrong to me... yet...
Werewolf Appearance:
Full Name:
Bonjour... je m'appelle Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur... but they call me Genie here a la Cirque du Seil. You may call me the same. And you may kneel before me too. A little bit of respect goes along way. For I am Alpha n'est-ce pas? I lead the Sister Kindred Spirits. Qui adorez-vous? Who loves you? C'est Genie. Pour L'eternite. Awoooo, bebes...
Age:
1433. Ooohhh... looks young and pretty, but I am an oooooold wolfie, non? Huahahah... Ca va. I am original sin. I am deviant of the Loup Garou... Werewolves... and I am one sinister crafty bitch... huahahah... so I am told. So I am...
Gender:
Ice blue eyes, platinum blonde hair, dark eyes and lips make-ups. Svelte, tall sexy figure. Simple white gowns, black boots with pretty buckles. Maybe a hat if my hair is not brushed... peut-etre. Maybe. But oui, I am very female, very sauvage and... how do you say...? Ah oui... et Genie is very naughty...
Species:
I am the first of my kind. A different bloodline of werewolf. I am the deviant. I am Loup Garou, oui... mais je suis L'ame Souer... La Premiere et La Diable-Loup. I am a Kindred Spirit werewolf... The First and The Bad, Bad Alpha; A Matriarch. Huahaha... what big teeth I have.
Born Werewolf or Turned?
I was born a wolf, this I swear; I know I was born upon four-running legs and with a beautiful tail.
Control over Transformation:
What do you think? Je pense que vous ne me connaisez pas... You do not know me, do you? I can be what I want regardless of what Mother Moon tells me. Become one like me. Bond then become Kindred and you will know for yourself. La verite. Know the truth.
But... During the full moon... I revel and savour each moment. For he, the Wish Master, has allowed me to take the forest floor upon all fours... loyalty has its benefits, you see?
Significant/Special Belongings:
I carry the MoonStone. This is what you want from me. This is how you will be beautiful for always.
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
I am grande. I have big teeth and paws. I will rip you then eat you while you are still screaming. Nothing hurts Genie. I protect my own... as long as you remain useful, you will be protected.
Weapon of Choice:
A smile. A wink. Then 850 pounds of monster eats you. Who loves you...?
Job Title & Description:
We, the Sister Kindred Spirits, we run the best 'Kissing Booth' a la cirque, no matter what Arina tells you, we are the best... huhahah... They say we are a brothel. They are just jealous... All that goes on behind the curtains and veils... they wish they could experience. But services is only for paying customers, not carnival workers. You want more than a kiss? More than a massage? Come to the back and know what you have been missing all your life... such pleasures you have never known... they say our 'techniques' uplift the spirit... free your soul... huahahahah....
Oh! Et les jupes!! The Sisters knit, weave and sew the best dresses and skirts in the carnivale! Oui! Oh you want it, say you do... do not deny yourself! Even you, Arina! Ah... stop your drooling and beg Genvieve to take your measurements and stitch you something fine... take a knee and you know you will have what you want... huahahah... We can make you sexier than you know! Ah et les souliers! Our custom made shoes? To die for, cheries... simplement. We craft the best foot wear out there. Period. Boots, flats, slippers... just let us know. You know the cost...
All those hundreds of years of experience... 'crafty' bitch, n'est-ce pas? Told ya so... huahahah...
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
500,000. Oh la-la... it costs so much to change...? An entire blood line... meh... ca va, d'accord, is okay... it is worth it.
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
200. Meh... what is another couple of centuries of servitude... bleh.
What Was Your Wish?
Oh, how I wish to run upon all fours again... just like the first time... and for the last time ever. I just want to be a wolf again. I know all those I have turned will become like me too... they will run on all fours... J'espere toutes les Soeurs comprennent et... I hope My Sisters and daughter Kindred Spirits will understand and that they will... forgive me...
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
351, 081 but still not enough.
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
168 and I grow weary.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
I desire to be just a wolf again. No matter what. I still love my Sisters and daughters... all of them but... I must do what I must. I must. I dream of my past more and more. I am going crazy. I must collect and be free once more to roam the forest hills of my home... I will bring you with me Sisters and offspring.
Personality:
They say I am cunning, elusive, whimsical and with a bad case of bad-ass bitch. Huahahah... I do not disagree. As a matter of fact, I will add to that. I will use you. I will. I will suckle every bit of usefulness out of you and then spit you out. I will play with you. I will make you my best friend. I will make sure you are loyal to me. I will make you beg me to make you a Sister. And if you do become a Sister, then you will always be useful to me...
The MoonStone will keep you young looking and beautiful. It is how you will bond with me. But it comes at a price. You will also bond with your 'customer.' Each soul you collect, one will go to you, one will go to me. That is how you will remain so beautiful and scar free. The bond you keep with me, I will heal you constantly. That is my gift to you. But you must remain useful to me. Become a Sister.
Eh bien... you want to become a Kindred Spirit. A wolf like Genie...? Oh, there is no cost to it at all. All you have to do is kneel before me. For eternite. Awoooo, bebes...
Who loves you..? Qui adorez-vous...?
Oui, c'est Genie... Genie does.
Forever.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?:
Lie here with me. Right here. Oops...! Non. Sans les vetement. No clothes. Like the day you were born. Now. Close eyes. Both of them, t'es drole! Silly, girl... huahaha... Okay. Now. Press your head against my heart. Feel him beat. Listen to my voice. Hear beyond it. Find my spirit. Free your soul... Qui adores-tu...? Et qui tu adores...? Eh bien... viens avec moi... entres.. viens avec moi a la campangne... come with me to the countryside... to my home... there... can you see them...? Hear them? Smell them? Touch them? Now then... be them... be--
--The wolves. We were hunted.
A long time coming, it was. We had hunted vampires for so long. So so long now... and so... it was their turn now.
Just before daybreak, just when we thought they had run off, flown off, whatever it is those “Skeetos” would do when their time was up... we would return to our abodes along the country side. And that's when they struck.
We had become too complacent, too comfortable with our regular hunts, especially during those times when MotherMoon was pregnant with desires to protect us for always. And so when they lined up ready to do battle before dawn, we had already smelled them and were ready.
Did they think they could sneak up on us? They took us for fools.
And like fools we fell for it.
Head first into battle did our Alphas charge.
And head first is what they lost.
Silver-lined blades honed to a razor's edge. Quite effective against over-confident, cocksure brutes. It was bold of them, of those blood sucking mosquitoes. Those 'skeetos... they knew they only had a limited amount of time before they had to flee the sun's accusing light, but they made efficient use of their time...
They were to slaughter us all upon that countryside. And so they did.
Save for two of us. Two sister wolves. One of magic and the other of strong emotion.
Do you know what the MoonStone is? It not an item upon jewelry. It is not even a piece of jewellry. The MoonStone is not an inanimate object...
Oh but the sister wolves would flee and live another day. But they would make sure that should anything ever again happen like this, a slaughter such as this, they would make sure their bloodlines would never die.
The MoonStone is not an inanimate object. The MoonStone is the name of the spell they cast upon a pretty white wolf with lovely blue eyes and a fluffy snowy white tail.
With magic, emotion, spirit and blood, the First Born of the Devil-Wolves was born. A were-wolf is a creature that starts off as a human and becomes a monstrous wolf. The Devil-Wolf is a were-wolf that starts off as a wolf and becomes a lovely woman... Devil-Wolf. For only the Devil could allow such an abomination to exist against his Brother's will...
We named her Genvieve. Our L'ame-Soeur. Genie, our Kindred Spirit.
And we taught her what a human must know. What a human must be like. She hated to eat with utensils and wear clothes at first, but soon enough she took to her conditioning and picked up the mannerism to smile and then wink. Then came the day she became angry. So very angry. And our dreams came true.
The third form, the hybrid form Genie called a 'Goddess,' erupted from our little immortal and we wept with joy. But when we found out she could not infect others, and worse yet, that she could not create offspring we wept with sadness.
And she became useless to us. And so we had to cull our beautiful white furred pup. We wept for her before we ritually culled her by the light of the pregnant MotherMoon. We sang and danced for her spirit and ran off into the night to hunt for our feast to honour our failed Kindred Spirit.
When we returned to honour her with the feast we found the the body missing. Rage and tears consumed us. Who could have defiled our Kindred Sprit and our ritual?! But in the next heartbeats, our senses returned and bitter tears and snarling outrage ended and gave way to utter shock.
Bloodied footprints lead away from the altar. Our Genie had up and walked away.
In attempting to kill her, we found out of her deviant feature; she was not allergic to silver.
Our Kindred Spirit was not allergic to silver.
We howled for her, but not a single one of the clansmembers made a move to retrieve her.
We betrayed her and she was done with us.
But.. she was our bloodline continued. Even if in this war we fell, all of us, our lineage would continue though her. Genvieve our Kindred Spirit. Let her run even if it takes her to the ghostly light of Mother Moon in the--
--Earth world. Welcome back, chere... huahaha... welcome back. I remember you. Je me souviens... I remember and for always. You are awake, sister... good. You see my dream then. Then we are bonded.
I will know when you are sad. I will know when you are hurt. I will know when you need me. I will be there to keep you from harm and heal you; that is our bond with the MoonStone. You will always be a Sister to me... as long as you are useful. I must cull you if you are not. Do you understand? That is our ways, sister. I am not a regular werewolf. I cannot infect, but I can bond. I am mother, I am Matriarch. I will protect you.
And from our bond I can mate with you and give you child too; that is how we will become Kindred Spirits then. But know that your bebe will always be a girl. And it will be cute and fuzzy. It will be a fuzzy cub. You will give birth to another Ame-Soeur, a wolf like me. And when it grows up, it will eat you. But you will not die. Non. You will take over the body of the human form. It will be young and beautiful as always... but you will live with the other spirit you birthed. That of the the wolf. And it will protect you too when you need claw, tooth and tail in the form of a 'Goddess.' Just like the 850 pound Goddess form I take to protect you, sister. All sisters. And should you mate, that will be not only your daughter... but mine as well. Who loves ya...? Genie does...
Ahhh yes... so now you see. The Sisters... the werewolf girls that are Sister Kindred Spirits... oui... they are all my sisters... my lovers... my pack. They are useful and they know who they love and who loves them too.
Soooo... why did I come to Mr. Seil then? Because I am over a thousand years old, sister. I tire of it all. I just want to run back into the woods of my home hills and... and just that. Run. On all fours. Toujours.For ever.
But you want to know my story... mon histoire, n'est-ce pas? Long story... but how you say..? Oh! 'For a nutshell?' Ouaiii...? Close enough. More drinks first...? And some more kisses then... huahahah... more drinks... d'accord! Okay! Bien! One more drink... and kiss... now! 'Nutshell' this is it...
I escaped my home forest and my clan because they try to kill me. I know, I know... sad. Drink to that, sister...! But! Ecoutes-moi... listen. They never come to chase me but I will always remember them fondly.. even though they tried to... you know.. kill me. I fighted my way through Limbel until I hear about Mr. Seil. I know what I want then. I am monster. I want to be beautiful on all fours! Pauvre pauvre chou-chou, non?Drink to that! Okay. Oookay. Like I must did some bad things to some very, very bad people for one to find the circus, the carnivale! Donc! Salut to me! I beat them up! More drinks, sister! Wahoo! Sooooo... They tell me of a crack in the space between Azure world and Earth world and crawled in. Then... I fight some more because, eh bien, I am Genie and I must did that, hien? Huahahah... Drink! Salut! And so, I finded Monsieur Seil! Oh la-la, c'est un diable, mon Monsieur Seil, mais il est gentil et polit...il peut parler avec une langue lisse d'argent, non...? Eh... en tous cas... eh bien, puis, nous avons parler et... le BAM!
I sign on paper. Done.
Clap hands, sister. C'est ca. BUT!!! Genie is also with needs. Famille, non? Sooo... huahahah... I made sexy-sexies with girls and made more L'Ame-Soeurs. And so now here I am... more drinks, sister... huahahah...?
I do not like to tell that story. I would rather not. It makes me feel... sad? And... shamed..? Oui...
Hold me, sister... please...? A kiss also...? I would like more kisses... mmmm....
Soooo... you feel like you want to become Kindred Spirit...? I can make it happen... if you want... if not... well... we have no clothes on anyways... huahahahah... drink...?
SUGARY POISONS!!! Awooooo bebes... ;D
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ◑ ~
Does it please you that we collect souls for you, demon? Does it please you to play us like a spoiled child with many a toy? Does it please you that you, and you alone, own the lives of mortals, immortals and everything in between? Very well, sir, I should hope so, for if I were in your position, I should love to possess that much power over so many lives and souls even in my own demonic damnation. I be will as polite and giving as you need or require, 'Master, so long as you give leeway to my Sisters and Kindred Spirits. I will fulfill my contract and I will be out of your hair in 30 years and we will both be happy to say farewell to each other.
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ◑ ~
Have I been here long enough to know your tale? Oui, I know of your twins and your marriage. I know what you are, but I do not know why you in particular. Why this angel of this lineage? Why does 'Master keep this one, when he should have the pick over countless others? Meh... It does not matter whatever the reason in the end, Rose Bell. The 'Master is happiest and most lenient when you are still kept safe and sound under lock and key. You are beautiful, radiant and a golden creature worthy of love, tenderness and care from only the utmost pure definition of a gentleman. And as long as Genie and the Sisters are here, you will never escape that 'gentle man.'
Andracos Soleviel ~ ◑ ~
What does Genie care for you? The same that you probably care for her. That is fine by me. You are a half-ling and have ties in the 'Underworld.' That makes you no more special than the fact I have Sisters in the Underworld as well. I keep to my Sisters here, the same way you keep with your entourage. Is my part of the 'Booth of interest to you? Non. You find no chase nor thrill in fulfilling carnal lust from the Sisters of the 'Booth. But their services are not for your type. Besides, they are too good for you, half-demon... they are not victims; we choose whom or whom not to bed with our Sisters. But in the end, Andracos... we are okay. No bad blood. Just do not touch my blue-headed faerie. Ne touches pas, monsieur. For Blueberry Moon... Jasi? She? She is mine.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
This new one. It still walks with an air of elegance and nobility, but you cannot fool the wolf's nose. The blackness within you reeks with each step you take. Huahahah... Oh, but what world is this where the sisters and brothers of Light will sell their souls for such things their Kingdom cannot provide for them. Another angel tumbling from the crumbling cloud-borne righteous Kingdom in Azure... maybe that uppity bitch CeCi was right afterall. Time for a Queendom...
Arina 'Feather' Lécuyer ~ ☠ ~
Oui... well I nothing you too. Oooohh Arina, my 'Fallen Feather'... where do I begin... Liar, cheat, manipulator, wears ill-fitting clothes, and cannot accessorize to save her worthless life. Boorish yet boring, filled with fake laughs, forced smiles... truly this is a third female wheel on a two-wheeled male-cart... a tag-a-long at best tolerated by Andracros, most likely begrudgingly included in his entourage. Perhaps the Siren-Demon crossbreed would get more respect if he stopped giving handouts to the stray tramp and gave up on her for good; stop stringing along the poor, poor, thing, pretending as if she does hold importance and sway his entourage. Huhahahah... Oh 'Feather,' you know Genie just plays. No matter what Andracos says, you are more than worthy here at the 'Booth... on your back or in whatever position the whim or fancy of your boss, Genie, THE GENVIEVE L'AME-SOEUR, decides that day. Bitch, you best start stretching... huahahah...
Soren Novák ~ ◑ ~
A higher-up in the Carnivale... arrogant, brash, willful. I see in your eyes and it reeks upon your demon body despite the calm behaviour. You and I are very much alike... you only reward the worthy and useful to you. The difference lies within our desires, Soren. You have taken souls for greed and power. Genie takes souls for the same reason, but you... you take them for yourself. I take them for generations and generations and generations. Imagine all those of my bloodline coming together as one... you think we will merely run upon all fours...? Huahahah... my daughter and sister Kindred Spirits outside the carnival have their own bonds. They have been bonding for centuries... do you think Genie would just let them bond with just anyone or anything...? Come now, Soren... you know this bitch... and so does Seil. We are alike in that everyone we deal with, we know their uses and worthiness. But Genie knows something else... just like Monsieur Seil. I know about loyalty and bonds. We are bound to this carnivale by collections of souls. My sisters and daughters are bound to me by blood. Pack mentality. I am Alpha. I am Matriarch. Your days as a higher up, outranking Genie, are numbered, Soren. Awwooo, bebe...
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☠ ~
Once upon a time, I hunted your kind and enjoyed every moment of it; your kind marked as our number one prey. We the wolves... Kindred Spirits, Primals and Converts alike hunted sided by side to keep your numbers down. Your kind... 'Skeetos, we call you. Mosquitoes. Blood sucking pests. Murdering in the name of population control was never more satisfying... squashing a mosquito... huahahah... you wasteful creatures... you feed off your victim and when you are done, the body still remains... wasteful parasites, all of you. Then changes happened. Genie learned that your kind are actually useful. Those wasted bodies... we repurposed and made stews and sausage... we fed the desperate and destitute poor souls in the places in Limbel bordering Urbaniel. Oh, we were hated by the higher ups but loved by the countless starving... if ever you have a chance, ask them: "Who loves you...?" Can you guess their resounding response, Pachid? Oh how useful... and lovely to bed is your female kind. And they never thought that a wolf and a mosquito could ever have offspring... females no less... they don't know me do they...? Huahahah...
But yes, all in all, we must be enemies, Pachid, I'm afraid. I am wolf. You are mosquito. When I am done here, I must kill you before I leave the carnivale. Such a shame, because really and honestly, I do think you are decent, you. You keep to your own and you keep your own. For what reason exactly, I do not know, but I what I do know is that you are loyal to your friends, your entourage... your pack. So yes, Pachid, you are a skeeto, and we must be enemies... but that is not until either of us leaves the carnivale. Until then, Pachid, keep to your own, but if you ever feel the urge, you are welcome to the 'Booth when JaSi has her newest batch to taste test ~☺~ We shall have a drink as friends before that fateful day comes when we must fight. And, oh, my Feather, Arina can join; she can wait till we are done and lap up the leftovers. She is used to that. Huahahah...
But Pachid... keep your Andracros away from there, lest he wishes to charm snakes without legs and other apendage. He knows how I am with the little winged blue-head... JaSi is mine.
Reira Masin ~ ☺ ~
You are new. And I know where you are. For Genie has captured your wind blown, easy breezy scent. Come to the 'Booth, young human, earn a bond. Come and become a Sister and know happiness and pleasures and a sisterhood like you will never ever know. You will be protected and you will know who you love, and who loves you. Come Reira. Come to Genvieve and the Sisters. Bond and you will never ever be alone here in the De'Seil Carnivale. Oh how little winged blue-heads would love to see you bond with Genie. You do not mind if she watches do you? It is okay, young human, you can watch us too. Genie has lots of mirrors mounted up and lit just right in Genie's lair. Come then... Huahahah...
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑ ~
You are more a Peeper than a Witch. And I have your scent, Stefan. You think I do not? Genie fought the Dark in the shores that touched Urbaniel and Limbel together. I am an ooooooold wolfie, cherie. I can smell you in the shadows. You are not a demon, you see. Ever wonder if Genie can reach into the dark and tear out your throat? Keep spying upon my Sisters in the 'Booth. If they feel uncomfortable, they will not perform properly. If they do not perform properly, then they do not collect enough souls. If they do not collect enough souls, their Matriarch gets upset. When Martriarch gets upset, things get their throats torn out. So. Ever wonder if Genie can reach into the dark and tear out your throat? Ahhh... no, you are right. I would never do that. I cannot kill upon Carnivale grounds. Genie would just reach into the dark and rip off your little appendage and feed it to the clean up gnomies. But you have not upset Matriarch... yet. Peeper. Huahahah... No, you are still useful to me. You have much information in your possession that I would very much like to possess myself. We can trade, no? Just tell me what you would like, Peeper.
Ty ~ ◑ ~
Still but a child is the blue eyed wonder and I have seen this one grow like a weed. I have seen this one's mind be corrupted by that self-righteous, self-serving, glutton for attention and adoration... that teasing slut: "Oooohhh... it is fabulously yours and truly... Starla Carlotta!!!! Ooooohhh...!" Eat glass shards and drink acid, bitch. I should have raised Ty. I should have been her mother-figure. I am Matriacrch, am I not? Such a waste of a perfectly good, flexible and limber physique... why was she not taught to dance proper? Why was I blocked from teaching Ty how to move and sway, dancing to the those throbbing rhythms and stretching herself out in all perfection knowing all those positions and styles? So then, why does Ty stray away from me? It is because Starla poisons Ty's mind. That slutty siren is jealous of me. And they call me a whore... maybe that could be true... but I do not play games with affections and affectations. Unlike that teasing slut Starla; I am not fake with my love. If Genie loves you then it is the truth. No games. Starla's influence over Ty must end. She must be brought to her knees and trampled upon. You do not play games with Genie's affections. Starla will learn why and I will rip Ty from her greedy grasp. Even if I have to tear off a siren arm or two to get her away from that slut... Ty will be mine. ~☺~ Who loves ya...? Come to maman...
Imalia ~ ◑ ~
The primal siren. Captive yet captivating all the same. My little blue-headed fae is infatuated with you. Why? Because you are polar opposites... sometimes that thing you desire most is that one thing you just cannot get. I watch from the outsides when JaSi goes to your abode, flitting happily along, bottle in one hand, stolen gift in the other. There is another kind of siren, a slutty one that stole someone from me. You know full well of whom I speak. I will not lose JaSi. That faerie is mine. You try to let me know any different and we shall see if your song can work its magic upon me before 850 pounds of Genie comes howling, smashing through your walls, decimating your glass container and seizing you by your throat to correct your error.
But... for all the years we have been here, together at the carnivale, JaSi has returned to me without your scent tainting her. So it means we must be getting along... huahahah... non. I know you do not care for relations with others or you would be more forthcoming and playing less the shut in than you already are. You play by your own rules... constrained by the 'Master, but your own rules nonetheless. I do too. In that regard, I respect you, Imalia, I do. And beyond that darkened stare, I can see something else. And what I see within, I applaud. ~☺~ Those that stand to face their demons will only be victorious when their intent is not to stand up against their demons... but to murder each and every single one of them in cold blood.
Jing Lao ~ ☠ ~
I hate you. Hate, hate, hate, hate... haaaaaaaaate you. There are times I see Jing Lao and I so want to rip that smile right off of that wonderfully exotic face of hers--his...!!! Ugh! How dare that one so pretty, pretty be?! It is a male...! So then. I would never drink tea from it nor eat biscuit from it neither... who would ever take a meal from such a thing...? Miss Muffet would not! And neither will this Miss Genie! A Shifter do I find remarkably grand, but a spider?!?!? Genie fears nothing. NOTHING!!! Not even a spider. I mean it. I hate, hate, hate, hate spiders, but be rest assured that the Alpha, The Matriarch fears nothing. Not even a spindly, tickly, hairy, eight legged, creepy, multi-eyes staring, jumping on you, then crawling, skittering down your neck-- AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! JASI!!! JaSi ma chou, come here!!!! I think something just crawled down my top! Come help! Now!!!! EWWWWWWWW!!!!
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
A shadow of an apparition... huahahah... I do not know whether to pity it for coming here, or whether to find any means necessary to try to slay the wraith. What good will it do for the carnivale. We all run upon our own instincts, judgments and ethics and so too does this being, but unyielding is it in its worldview. It is what it is. It will drain you of strength and hope. It will impregnate you with terrible thoughts and visions. It is a pestilence of the mind; it is negativity manifested in the form of a wilted-whilte woman. I pity it for having to come here and spread its terrible seeds of dark and depressing thoughts for it cannot help it. But that being the case, I cannot allow it to infect and contaminate others here... ones that love Genie, and ones that Genie loves for that wraith can ruin sisterhoods. Spectres are pests of the OtherSides feeding like parasites upon the strong emotions and thoughts of those with beating hearts and thriving flesh and blood. It must be abolished before the depression and possessions begin. I do know that JaSi fears Meidre. But I do know that that little blue-headed fae does have the means and weaponry proper to fight back a spectre even if that little bubbling cuteness herself is ignorant to such things. A smothering blanket of Negativity is all that Meidre can bring and will never will such a happening prevail here at the carnivale. I have lived much, much much too long to live like that. I will never live like that again. Ever.
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
Oooooohhh... ooooohhh la-la... It is "The AngelSlayer..." I have heard of you. There are those here that will fear you. ...And then there are those here that will hunt you regardless of consequence. Whatever the case, I shall draw myself a drink, sit back comfortably and watch and see if you live up to your reputation. Let's see just how useful you really are, "Antoine..."
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
The newest member here...a human male with a toy. Huahahaha... Meh. We shall see just what kind of games it has joined, willingly or not, and just how it is going to get played and then owned here. Your toy... it was not meant for mortals. It was meant for their torment... huahahah... We all have demons we have to deal with and now you have just invited you initial demon onto the very grounds of the Carnivale de'Seil. If you upset the 'Master so much that Genie begins to lose privileges, then be rest assured that The Sister L'Ame-Soeur will drop by to your little wagon for a visit to 'rectify' the situation.
Angoriel ~ ~
Sarah Hiddle ~~
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ~
Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur ~ ~
Robin ~ ~
Full Name: Hiiiii! A name you require? Hahahah! Oh, but ya knows me...! 'Tis 'Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard' but no one calls me Blueberry. Nor Moon. So I go by my Orchard name, Jassesi, or know what? You can call me as they call me... by me professional name: 'JaSi.'
Age: I will be 101 next spring! But I am told were I human, I would be really short. As tall as child human am I! And I would look like a younger teen... with golden eyes... and blue hair... and pointied ears... and with wings... loverly, strong and buzzy wings!!! Aye!!!
Gender: Lass! I likes to wear plaid skirts, white long sleeve tops with open backs, but not stockings nor shoes... lest I be workin' of course...
Species: Silly... sniff me! I smell like flowers! I was born from a blue blossom in the Jassesi Orchard! I'm a Faerie!
Most used Elemental Power:
'Tis fire, but not really good at the controlling or shaping of it like other fae. I can make fire, but only small ones. But truth be told, this faerie is pretty good at working the brighter parts of fires, aye. I can make the light coming from... oh, say a burning match, become as bright as a spotterlight! Oh so grandiose... well... maybe. But right, so 'tis true, maybe not as impressive a skill as it should be from a Fae such as a Jassesi-born, but that's what I do.
Wing Development:
Oh! But strong they are! And noisy. They hum very nicely, I must say! They are twin pairs like most faeries. Strong and fast they are! Fast enough to flee from that Andracos! and hide behind Genie! Ewwwww... that... that Andi-gross is a yucky Toucher Hahahahah!!! Oh but aye, they do need to be strong for I am lead in the kite formation! Ooohhh... one time we were angels! So beautiful! We were a bunch of Tanya's and Rosie's and CeCi's... oh but mercy upon me fallen wingsy...!
Wing Appearance:
Significant/Special Belongings:
A seed from the Orchard when I am ready to plant it and make mine own babbies! Oh! And my collection of strange, unique and pretty baubles and things!
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Oh! But I have been training with Genie and previously with CeCi! Oh aye, I have! And I can fight you now, oh, I can! But I don't like to hit. Or fight. Soooooo... I mostly use this my trademark techniques...! Ummm... I shall call it... “Glow n' Go!” I would blind my attacker with bright light then I will fly away with buzzy strong and fast wings!! But... failing that, I will hafta' burns their skin to release me... I don't like such a thing. Oh, dear, what a terrible thing to do to another... and such a stench... buuuut...
...as I said, I have been training with Genie and I will snarl and mayhaps even bite ya instead of burnin' ROWR!!! Hahahah...!
~Uhhhhh... no. She has been trained but she's hurt herself more times while training than any of her sparring partners ever hurt her. Combined. But she continues to try hard because training makes Genie all happy and giggly when she watches JaSi try to fight.
Weapon of Choice:
Dunno really. Never hit anyone with anything before... ohhh! Name-calling! Fairies have such creative words for insulting big meanies!!! Ahhh... ne'er ye mind. I don't like to say bad words neither... 'Tis me magic then... hmm... perhaps pouring some Amber down their throats to turn them all drunkard? Hahahah... dunno...
Job Title & Description:
Kite-Flier and Lead Light Tech! I help t'make and fly the pretty puppety flying things above the Carny! Oh! And I am the Lead Light Tech of the aerial team cuz... well.. I am the only one on the aerial team that makes light-- bright light, mind you --! and I'm takin' over for me mentor, the fallen and lost one, me loverly angel no more, Miss Celleci.. mercy on her soul, but oh Wingsy... miss ya much n' much more than that, aye...
Oh! But I do also tend to the barrels and brew! Silly! Am I not a Jassessi Faerie?! Aye, but of course I am and again aye!!! We do make such loverly drink ya know?! It is me natural born talents afterall! Here, pass me a mug... there... now just a sip, you! Tis stronger than the piss of a werewolf! Hahahah!!! Oh but I shouldn't say that for Genie will bite me arse but I do so love the sound of it when Arina does say that! Hahahah...!
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
I have collected only 10. But none more do I have to collect! Aye! I'm done, I am!
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
Well, ahhh... Mr. Seil, sweetest gent he is, allowed me all the time in the world, of course. Loves him like my Da, do I... and so anyway, I did complete my collection in under 50 years!
What Was Your Wish?
I wished for my parents to come back t'me and bring me home to the Orchard.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
Silly! Completed my collection have I! All 10!
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
52 years. Oh! 'Tis more than half me life!
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
Oh pish. 'Twas not a thing, really! Genie helped me! Oh but she is sooooo bright, that one, aye... Before me days when the Mistress of Lighting and Design had me as a kite maker and flyer, she taught me that soul branding was easy and not mean atall! By punishing the wrinkly meanie mortal males that wanted to put their tongues in the mouths of sweetheart blue-headed faes and to touch their 'womanly parts' was I able to complete my collection. 'Twas not a thing. They deserved it, said Genie! It was a kissing booth! Not a lecher's lick and grope booth said Genie!
Personality: I am soooo helpful and I aim to please, no matter what it is I do! Maybe I'm too heavy with the drink, but I'm a Jassesi Orchard fae! We brew it all for free and we drink for you n' me! And so pass on a drink for all, whether they be large or small! We drink for you n' me, and so for you we pee! Hahahah...! Oh drunken songs... Right. So I am soooo creative and with grand thoughts as always! I have a smile for all and a gift for ye should ye be deservin' such a thing! Sometimes the gifts are things I trade with others to give away as gifts.
But leisure time is short for this fae, 'tis sadness, tis. Being in charge of lights and kites does drain me so. And I do keep up what I learned from poor, poor, CeCi, mercy upon such a poor soul, but alas, she did train me for: 'the fight to come.' Training... yuck! Oh, though this faerie did keep her promise... but does such a thing ever make me weary...! BUT! Strong now is Blueberry Moon... aaaaaand sexy!!! Shake what me mums given me! Cannae take yer eyes off it now, can ya?! Hypnotice! Hahahahah!!
~As a faerie, Jassesi believes that items she finds left not in homes, but in the open are items forgotten and not worthy enough to be kept on a body. And so she 'claims a gift.' Basically taking it and leaving another item she finds of value in its place; a faerie trade! But as a faerie, pretty rocks or even pine-cones with even-numbered protrusions are valuable to her.
~She also has issues with not being liked, perhaps its from her cutesy, happy type of faerie, but it is a complex that is greater within her than any other Jassesi Orchard Fae. She did have issue with being a bit pudgy since her fae type are rounder than other faeries, but she has started comparing her 'looks' with other females ever since she fulfilled her soul collection. Part of the reason she does continually work out is because she stares at the taller and thinner body types, especially of the angels, and has a bit of a secret obsession to obtain that body type. And even though Genie has been 'straightened out' by CeCi before the fallen angel left, Genie still does provoke JaSi with small comments about weight and looks even during times they are not working out together.
~She tends to subconsciously pick up other folks speech patterns and when she realizes she does, she pours it on thick, thinking it flatters the other person, although it sounds like she's mocking them, she not because... well, she is not the brightest bulb out there to say the least... it took her almost 50 years to collect her soul quota via Genie's kissing booth.
~Quite gullible and always aiming to please, JaSi became rather attached to Genvieve, a sultry werewolf Alpha since upon arrival, Genie took the little fae in. From there Genie taught JaSi how to do work as a kissing booth maiden. And of course, Genie taught the blue-headed fae exercises before going to the kissing booth. Sexy and sultry exercises. Ones that started off with warming up in clothes then ending up sweaty with nothing on save her wings . It was a strange work out room. A strangely round room. With peepholes in them. Those that would witness her exercises, ecstatic and erect they were, and in such a state, Genie branded them all as the dancing little JaSi (the lesbifae as Genie called her behind her back) did all the work shrouded to the true nature of Genie's 'kindness' in teaching Jassesi to 'exercise.'
That ended when CeCi politely removed the fae from the possesion of the werewolf. Politely, aye and again aye. With a promise.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?:
I was a 'Dandelion Fluff.' A lost faerie. I was a wee thing when I met Mr. Reciful Seil... but then again, faeries are wee things. Nevermind. I was young..ger then... but still looked the same as I do now so... anyway...! When I was not this age, but one with fewer numbers, I was sent away from our Orchard... I... I thought it was 'cuz I wasn't good enough...I couldn't heat cauldrons like the others... but it was for another reason I, Blueberry Moon just wasn't good enough... I... anyway...
I'm going to read it to you, cuz it makes better sense when I read it than when I say it. Starla was nice enough to write it for me and make my thoughts sound... more beautiful than they really are.
Right. Deep breath... Ready?
It was a time of turmoil for the grown Jassesi fae and a sad, sad time for the youngest of the children from our Orchard. Most of the child Jassesi faes were rounded up and guided away to the mirror-pool. This was our looking glass into the Earth world of mortals. It was here where we watched and sent out our bravest to the master brewers in that Earth world. Aye, most humans do not know that their best brews are made by 'accidents.' We would trade with them. Strange items they left meant to be 'claimed as gifts' we exchanged for our knowledge in brewing.
But this time, this final time we were gathered, just us gals. There we stood, all nerves and wide-eyed wonder, as we spied into the mirror-pool. Little did we know what was to happen next. All little sisters were we all right there, and all right there were pushed in before our time of rite of passage.
I watched as one by one, the others cried before being cast into the mirror-pool, watching as they were tossed in and about the Earth world; we were dropped like leaves in autumn and like autumn leaves we landed in random spots. Spread across the Earth world were me and mine own sister Jassesi Orchard Fae. Never to be seen again, for they never wished upon a parchment as Blueberry Moon did.
Cast from the Azure world, and a lifetime away, I wandered aimlessly, nothing but the cloth upon me and the only reminder of home, the gift given to me. I knew better than to encroach or encounter the giants of the land. Even the smaller ones, the human children were dangerous, our grown fae said to us; they would tell on me and I would be caught. They would pick my wings off, shave my hair, and pluck out my eyes for I was different, too different from they.
But then the day came when I found Mr. Reciful Seil... or was it the other way 'round? He stood there, cane in one hand, hat freshly taken off, and with a bow he introduced himself. Taken was I by such a being and a blur of thankfully precious sounds in memory are now the words he spoke; what does it matter anyway...
...I signed the contract, I did and it was the best thing I ever did in my entire life. For we are all family here at the De'Seil Carnival.
Because, oh the years rolled by and I was successful in fulfilling my contract. Nearly 50 years and but only 10 souls did I have to have my wish become reality. What emotions I felt, I cannot say, for they are not with me now.
What was it I wished? I wished my parents come to me and take me back home.
Mr. Seil was there by my side as we waited at the top of the hill, near the babbling creek, neath the canopy that cut the rays of the freshly awoken sun.
My golden eyes darted this way and that in anxious anticipation for them. My heart thudded so hard in my chest, but in rhythm to a song of love long lost and near unknown by now. Then I felt his hand upon my chin. So gently, so carefully and fatherly did he turn my visage towards a wish fulfilled.
There they were. My parents.
Hands held out, faces filled with such strong emotion.
Hands held out in a failed desperate attempt to shield themselves. Faces frozen with stark terror, knowing their fate was sealed.
Frozen. Literally.
The reason became apparent right then and there; we, my sisters and I were sent away for preservation.
The Jassesi fae were all killed. Our enemies of the Frosted Mountains wiped us out. I wished for my parents to return and there they were. I cried and cried and cried as they melted before me in the rays of the Earth world's single bright star.
And he held me all the while.
When I could finally speak, between sobs, I asked him about the other part of my wish; to be taken home to the Orchard.
Without a word, Mr. Reciful Seil, opened my clenched fist, revealing the glowing seed I was given at the mirror-pool. I stared at it as it flickered with blue ghost flames as it never once did here, but would always be such a thing in Azure.
“You are always welcome here, Blueberry Moon...” he said with the voice driven by the breath of a deity then with his cane, he pointed at the seed from the Azure world, “until then...”
It all made sense just then and as he held me I cried and cried and cried until the moon rose in the sky pregnant and full like the hopes in my heart that made me shed tears now.
I do not take a mate with a male and thus, I cannot make flowers to birth mine own offspring. And the grown fae knew that about me. And my sisters, the ones cast into the Earth world like leaves in the wind, they were just like me; they would never seed with a male. But there is a way to keep our type of Orchard Faerie's bloodline continuing without a male.
We were meant to be preserved for we were the contingency plan. The grown faeries. My parents. All parents from our Orchad knew they would lose, lose everything, versus those of the Frosted Mountains. And so we did lose. And so there I stood, revelations scorching my mind, tears falling from mine eyes.
And so.
And so when I am ready, and with my mate, a very female one, I will plant this seed in the Azure and flowers will bloom and we will have our own children and regrow our Jassesi Orchard anew. But until then...
“Until then, Mr. Reciful Seil--”
I took the final memories of my people, the melted ice droplets of water at our feet, and by the light of the moon, we made our way back to the carnival.
“--I am home...”
(Urps! ~~Sugary Poison!!!)
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
The Wish Master ~ ☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺!!!
Of course I loves him!!!! Oh, but like a father he is to our family, aye and yet again a hearty aye! AYE!!!! Handsome and imposing, stern yet giving... oh he lets me live here. Oh, Mr. Reciful Seil... oh but Blueberry Moon is at home here. Home!!!
Rosalina Bell Seil ~ ☺♥
Such a loverly being... we do not keep each others company much since I am but a technician and she is... well, she is Rosalina the Angel Doll afterall... but oh, she does set mine eyes aglow, she does... such a loverly voice... and oh those legs... how I do love to have mine golden eyes trace such loverly, lovery things.... aye... such a shape of her as she sits there all loverly and cross-legged-like... tracing from ankles up to knee wondering what it would be like to continue past th'knees and beyond... soooo slowly along those thighs ... oooh... and then upward still sooooo slowly until I can trace-- Oh! NAY! And again nay. Notherning atall, Mrs. Reciful Seil! Aye! Perhaps a cold I do have! Right, I will wipe me drooly wet lips... ooohhh wet lips... Nay, Mrs. Seil...! Said nothing did this fae! Loverly e'ening then!
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☠
Ewww... And-he's-gross! The Toucher!!!! EWWWW!!!! Away you creepy creepy creeper creep!!! EWWW!!! Oh but wait till I tell me Genie what you try to make JaSi do!!! EWWWWW!!! So sexy, am I, I am! But no! Just no! Faerie sexiness is so not for you! Away you... you TOUCHER!!!! EWWWW!!!
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑
Oh but hmmm... a curious one this new one Vincent. He stands and holds himself sooooo much like my fallen wingsy, Celleci... just before she left here. If he's like CeCi then I cannot help but feel... pity for him too... but I do hope he is like nice like CeCi... that is once you get beyond the grr-grr-me-used-to-be-soooooo-awesomes-grr talk, cuz he used to be an angel too, I'm certain, oh I am.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ☺♥
Oh but I do like Arina! I do! Pretty and smiley as always. I know she and Genie are rivals since they both run similar kissing booths, but I dunno why they do not get along! They are sooooo nice to me and ask for nothing in return! Genie says Arina uses me and Arina says the same of Genie?! Confusing but I like Arina just the same! She always talks to me and involves me in her schemes! Lovery and pretty; she used to be an Angel! Believes that, I do, I do and I do so love doing tasks for her as well!
Soren Novák ~ ☺
Soren! Good-looking and always nice, Soren. I know he is sooooo important in helping run the Carnival with Mr. Seil so he doesn't view me important! But all the same, when he does chat with this little blue-headed fae, oh but do I listen! I dunno why so many dislike him! He helps Mr. Seil afterall! So confusing...
Pachid Coyotas ~ ◑☺
Pachid seeeeeems okay... I been polite to him for decades and he sometimes smiles when I'm about, but I do keep my distance... a good distance... afar distance... a good far, far distance. Not because he drinks other's blood but wherever Pachid is... well, so is EEEEWWWWWW!!!! Andi-gross is there too! And so each time I do-- EWW!!! There he is! EEEWWW!!! To Genie then, strong buzzy wings!!!
Reira Masin ~ ◑
'Twas a long time before I believed that humans were not all but a race of brutish, mean and inferior creatures. They actually seem rather okay...? Aye... but getting to know one... even one as bonnie darlin' as this new Reira... I still have me doubts but still I will smile and wave to it, because it is a new member here... though it does look lost here... pish... fiiiiiine...! I'll make friends!!! ~☺~ But only to observe and see if it is worthy to stay on in the carny... not because it has loverly long, long, long, juicy legs... not that Blueberry Moon has noticed... ahem...
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑
And-He's-Gross...! Just seeing Andracros makes me feel all yucky and ewww all over me sexy lil' body... but this Stefan... a different kinda' creepy he is. I swears I knows when he's peerin' over me shoulder from the shadows... I swears, I knows cuz me skin crawls and it feels like somebody be sniffin' at me neck and blowin in me ears at the same time. 'Don't trust this one, aye tis true, but then again, he only spies, ne'er once in me 50 plus years has he meant me harm nor harmed me... I hope that continues...
Ty~ ☺♥
I've known Ty since she was as little as me!!! I used to be able to carry her and flit and fly about the carny...! Hahahah... oh but I do so love her so much. So polite. So friendly. Never once has she had a mean thing to say 'bout this faerie! But then of course... they grow bigger and grow older. And Elementals will always grow away from you.. and leave you behind... that's what Genie says. We're still friendly but she seems to shush me so much more than when she was little as me. But I do so love me girl Ty so much... and oooohhh... such loverly blue eyes. I cannot help but stare at them always... like gems they are...! But Genie is right, I guess, maybe Starla has been a bad influence on Ty and maybe... maybe... we should do something to stop Starla from being so bad to Ty...? Dunno. But those gems of Ty don't look at me the same as before.
Aye, she's grown away from me but I love her still so much. We were friends once, we were. Arina says she knows why Ty doesn't like me as much anymore... and she says she will tell me! Just 132 more foot rubs! Hahahah... oh Arina is so giving. She normally charges 500 foot rubs for such information! And! Proud is this fae, for Arina says I give amaaaazing foot rubs, best she's had since several decades ago! Yay, Blueberry Moon!
Imalia ~ ☺♥
"In the darkest abode in the darkest corner in all of the De'Seil Carnival..." Sometimes when I feel lonely and all bads and sads... maybe this lass has been naughty or failed another in some way... when the days are darkest and the terrible sads befall me, I know that I will never have it as bad as Imalia. Oh, 'Mali... She's chained to her watery windowed cage. Why would they do that to her? Why would she not fight to get away? Sometimes I just sit there and talk to her or sometimes I just say fewer words and press meself up against the glass fondly and close me golden eyes and wonder just what 'Mali thinks all alone in there and feeling all bads and sads. She never comes to celebrate with us. She never comes to chat with us. I've known her ever since I arrived here.. and we been here about the same length of time too...! And yet still she never says a word to me when I come to visit her. Actually she never breaks the surface to greet me, and that's okay cuz she does frighten me somethin fierce, but I still come around and leave her two gifts anyways.
Each settlement we pass, after each ending to a performance, I always bring her two things. One is a gift that I traded; a gift from someone of the settlement we're 'bout to leave. Oh, ya know how it is... they left it behind for me to find and claim then exchange with something special of mine. The other is a sample of the latest batch of drink I've made. Dunno what she does with them or if she like what I give to her but... Genie says that if 'Mali hasn't killed me and eaten me all up yet, then I must be doing somethings good.
Jing Lao ~ ☺♥
Hahahahah! He is sooooo pretty and polite. A short time has he been here, but still more n' 'nuff to make quite the impression, aye. He smells of spices I never smelled before, he looks like a look I've never seen before. I do so find him so loverly to look at... so pretty and bendy too! I do so wish to know him better. I did trades a teacup he left as a gift for me with a dried leaf shaped like a dill-monkey paw. Oh ya should've seen that leaf too! It was the only one of its kind amongst the thousands and thousands of fallen leaves upon the ground! A rare and unique find indeed!
Elynne Meidre ~ ☠
'Member what I said about that witch Stefan Bostack...? Well, this Elynne Meidre or whatever it will call itself... I know what it really is, I do, and I do not like it. It is the one spirit that my Orchard Faeries detest most. They come to ruin grins, laughs n' smiles and celebrationary feelings, for they only come to bring despair, torment and blackened madness. They go places not meant to go... in through yer ears... and right into yer head thoughts. And yer dreams. We call 'em: Slenders. They go places not meant to go... and they murder happy faeries in their sleep.
Antoine ~ ◑
This is a new one. The lighting and rigging crew whisper that it is a demon. It doesn't seem so bad. And I like demons too! Arina is a good one. She was an Angel too...! I believes it, I do. She is teaching me how to make breakfast so I may serve it to her in bed! Such genius! Ne'er would I ever imagined such a fantastic thing to do! I have only 330 more times to practice then it will be Arina's turn to serve breakfast to my bed! Loverly, I knows... I wonder if this Antoine likes breakfast in his bed! Perhaps I shall teach it such a thing and make me breakfast in bed ~ ☺ ~! Aye, and again aye with a promise! Hahahah...!
Angoriel ~ ☺
I arrived here shortly after you. But we keep distance from each other. I know I annoy you. I know you'd rather keep your distance from me. But I know what you are. CeCi told me so. I have seen you perform. I have seen you angry. But I likes you cuz CeCi told me something about you that she never told you. She remembered you. Long ago, when CeCi was not CeCi, but someone else entirely, when her army held strong at the Faded Line; the battle at a bursted border between Limbel and Urbaniel, she remembers meeting you. They should have lost, she said. They should have fallen into the maw of Lies Eternal, she said. But some other angels saved her. Ones on the other side. She called them Tartystaras.. Tartarsausus... Angels in the Dark. She spoke fondly of you and your kind. For all your suffering and torment, in a war neverending, she and her battalions would pray for you eternal. My Celleci was a General fighting in the war of Ancients, she said. And now poor, poor thing... she is fallen and lost, mercy upon her soul.
But if never a chance did she have to tell you, Angoriel... then please let Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard be the one to tell ye, sir... she always wished for ye to hear these words from her lips: "Thank you, angel."
Oh! And me too...! Thank ya fer saving me wingsy... You are scary, but I likes ya, I do!!!
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑
'Member what I said about that human Reira...? Well, neither do I!!! Hahahahahah!!! OH, I makes me laugh, I do. Maybe this new human likes to laugh too..?
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☺ ♥
I love her, I love her, I love her, I dooooo!!! Such a sweet and caring being, that lass indeed! We were friends such a time ago. But oh how mortal time has changed her.. not in beauty cuz I still imagine she looks the same naked like when I think of how she looks naked before I fall aseep... nay, she had changed inside tis true. Oh but it is the time she spends her in the carny that holds her tongue from speaking her sweet words. The same I had seen in such a short time from CeCi, says Genie. But it's just like how Ty has grown away from me. Genie says that I must grow away from Sarah. I will only be hurt again, she says. Sarah will change and darken and I will feel all bads and sads. Maybe Genie is right... yet again. I should stay with only the ones who will always feel the same about me. Who loves ya? Genie does. For eternity.
But I will love you forever too, Sarah. 'Cuz Arina was an angel one time too, and look how much she likes me too! She lets me do tasks for her...! So aye. And again aye with a promise. You should still like me too... I hopes...
Jassesi ~ ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥!!!!
MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I loves sexy and loverly little me cuz I am soooooo smart! Aye, I am! I know so many things now! And! I am soooo helpful and I aim to please, no matter what it is I do! Maybe I'm too heavy with the drink, but I'm a Jassesi Orchard fae! We brew it all for free and we drink for you n' me! And so pass on a drink for all, whether they be-- I said that already? I did, did I? Oooooohhh...well... Genie says-- I say that a lot? I do, do I? Oooohhh... well then... ummmm... I like angels. Aye and again, aye. And I eats bugs too. Arina says they help ya lose weight and keep yer sexy body all slim and sexy-like, just like angels...! Oh! Arina used to be an angel, I believes it, I do-- I said that a few times already? Ooooohhh... I say a lot of things don't I...? Hahahahah!!!
...
Sooo... what was the question again?
Genvieve ~ ☺ ♥
I loves me Genie, I do so much loves her! She's known me ever since I came to the carny and successfully made true upon collecting souls. I love her and I know she loves me. She always involves me in her dreams and schemes. And she loves to laugh at things I say and funny things I do. We're good friends, aye and again aye. Even better since me wingsy, CeCi left us. I often do wonder what they talked about before she left...? But I do know she bonds with all the others at the 'Booths. I dunno why she's never bonded with me. She tells me secrets and tells me what I should be doing, oh she's a wise old wolf that one... but I do know that being bonded to Genvieve means instant protection; she knows how you are feeling and she will come to protect you if you need her. She loves me so... Why do I not get that bond from her...? Why?
I know she and Arina have some problems together and sometimes they do get along, but me I try to make both of them happy. Maybe I'm just not good enough for her. I can hear her sometimes bed with the other girls from the 'Booths and Oh! Not a single strand of jealousy does this little sexy bodied fae feel. Atall!! Nay and a promise to you! But she never seems to advance upon me like how I wish-- sometimes if at all since it would be rare-- for her to find me attractive. But I loves her all the same. She took me in from the get go when I arrived and not once has she ever grown away from me. We will always have our brew sessions together too.
And so I do let her be the first to taste each batch I brew up. We have our little drinking sessions then, just before I cork one up for 'Mali. It's in these sessions where we have close physical contact. And I like it. She tells me tales of her life long ago and shows me faint scars that did not disappear even though she possesses the Moonstone. Oh but most of them are nasty, nasty and terribly terrible stories. She has done some bad, very bad things, me Genie... And most times she laughs. And sometimes she cries. After a story I am off to see 'Mali or do mine own errands. After a story in which she laughs a lot, she kisses me on the lips and pinches me cheeks. After a story in which she cries, she usually passes out upon my lap and sleeps. I love it when she falls asleep in me lap. I stroke her fine goldeny strands of hair and sing to her before departing.
One time she turned over suddenly and she looked up at me and her pale blue eyes did not look like they belonged to Genie, but to a little girl who just startled awake. I waited for her to ask her familiar: "Who loves ya?" but instead she just smiled sheepishly and stated: "I love you, Blueberry Moon." Then she flopped back down and fell fast asleep. She had called me Blueberry Moon. No one calls me that. Except me family. But I kissed her cheek all the same and told her I loves her too. Next time I make a new batch, we will have a drinking session and I will ask her about that.
Robin~ ◑ ☠
Ewww... it is made of dead flesh. And it has creepy, creepy little meanie dollies in a satchel. It doesn't laugh with me, for me or at me. It just laughs cuz it knows what funny should be. It is hollow and frightening.. It shambles around with its meanie little dollies, all stitched together-like... I don't think it realizes that it smells... funny, not ha-ha funny but old, used and stitched together kind of funny... aye and a promise. And you know the giant puppetry things I make to fly high above the carny, tied up and controlled by cord tethered to ground? Well that is what this thing does to others; makes them into puppets. And dids I tell ya yet? It has meanie little dolles!!! I don't like it, but it hasn't done anything wrong to me... yet...
Werewolf Appearance:
Full Name:
Bonjour... je m'appelle Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur... but they call me Genie here a la Cirque du Seil. You may call me the same. And you may kneel before me too. A little bit of respect goes along way. For I am Alpha n'est-ce pas? I lead the Sister Kindred Spirits. Qui adorez-vous? Who loves you? C'est Genie. Pour L'eternite. Awoooo, bebes...
Age:
1433. Ooohhh... looks young and pretty, but I am an oooooold wolfie, non? Huahahah... Ca va. I am original sin. I am deviant of the Loup Garou... Werewolves... and I am one sinister crafty bitch... huahahah... so I am told. So I am...
Gender:
Ice blue eyes, platinum blonde hair, dark eyes and lips make-ups. Svelte, tall sexy figure. Simple white gowns, black boots with pretty buckles. Maybe a hat if my hair is not brushed... peut-etre. Maybe. But oui, I am very female, very sauvage and... how do you say...? Ah oui... et Genie is very naughty...
Species:
I am the first of my kind. A different bloodline of werewolf. I am the deviant. I am Loup Garou, oui... mais je suis L'ame Souer... La Premiere et La Diable-Loup. I am a Kindred Spirit werewolf... The First and The Bad, Bad Alpha; A Matriarch. Huahaha... what big teeth I have.
Born Werewolf or Turned?
I was born a wolf, this I swear; I know I was born upon four-running legs and with a beautiful tail.
Control over Transformation:
What do you think? Je pense que vous ne me connaisez pas... You do not know me, do you? I can be what I want regardless of what Mother Moon tells me. Become one like me. Bond then become Kindred and you will know for yourself. La verite. Know the truth.
But... During the full moon... I revel and savour each moment. For he, the Wish Master, has allowed me to take the forest floor upon all fours... loyalty has its benefits, you see?
Significant/Special Belongings:
I carry the MoonStone. This is what you want from me. This is how you will be beautiful for always.
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
I am grande. I have big teeth and paws. I will rip you then eat you while you are still screaming. Nothing hurts Genie. I protect my own... as long as you remain useful, you will be protected.
Weapon of Choice:
A smile. A wink. Then 850 pounds of monster eats you. Who loves you...?
Job Title & Description:
We, the Sister Kindred Spirits, we run the best 'Kissing Booth' a la cirque, no matter what Arina tells you, we are the best... huhahah... They say we are a brothel. They are just jealous... All that goes on behind the curtains and veils... they wish they could experience. But services is only for paying customers, not carnival workers. You want more than a kiss? More than a massage? Come to the back and know what you have been missing all your life... such pleasures you have never known... they say our 'techniques' uplift the spirit... free your soul... huahahahah....
Oh! Et les jupes!! The Sisters knit, weave and sew the best dresses and skirts in the carnivale! Oui! Oh you want it, say you do... do not deny yourself! Even you, Arina! Ah... stop your drooling and beg Genvieve to take your measurements and stitch you something fine... take a knee and you know you will have what you want... huahahah... We can make you sexier than you know! Ah et les souliers! Our custom made shoes? To die for, cheries... simplement. We craft the best foot wear out there. Period. Boots, flats, slippers... just let us know. You know the cost...
All those hundreds of years of experience... 'crafty' bitch, n'est-ce pas? Told ya so... huahahah...
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
500,000. Oh la-la... it costs so much to change...? An entire blood line... meh... ca va, d'accord, is okay... it is worth it.
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
200. Meh... what is another couple of centuries of servitude... bleh.
What Was Your Wish?
Oh, how I wish to run upon all fours again... just like the first time... and for the last time ever. I just want to be a wolf again. I know all those I have turned will become like me too... they will run on all fours... J'espere toutes les Soeurs comprennent et... I hope My Sisters and daughter Kindred Spirits will understand and that they will... forgive me...
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
351, 081 but still not enough.
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
168 and I grow weary.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
I desire to be just a wolf again. No matter what. I still love my Sisters and daughters... all of them but... I must do what I must. I must. I dream of my past more and more. I am going crazy. I must collect and be free once more to roam the forest hills of my home... I will bring you with me Sisters and offspring.
Personality:
They say I am cunning, elusive, whimsical and with a bad case of bad-ass bitch. Huahahah... I do not disagree. As a matter of fact, I will add to that. I will use you. I will. I will suckle every bit of usefulness out of you and then spit you out. I will play with you. I will make you my best friend. I will make sure you are loyal to me. I will make you beg me to make you a Sister. And if you do become a Sister, then you will always be useful to me...
The MoonStone will keep you young looking and beautiful. It is how you will bond with me. But it comes at a price. You will also bond with your 'customer.' Each soul you collect, one will go to you, one will go to me. That is how you will remain so beautiful and scar free. The bond you keep with me, I will heal you constantly. That is my gift to you. But you must remain useful to me. Become a Sister.
Eh bien... you want to become a Kindred Spirit. A wolf like Genie...? Oh, there is no cost to it at all. All you have to do is kneel before me. For eternite. Awoooo, bebes...
Who loves you..? Qui adorez-vous...?
Oui, c'est Genie... Genie does.
Forever.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?:
Lie here with me. Right here. Oops...! Non. Sans les vetement. No clothes. Like the day you were born. Now. Close eyes. Both of them, t'es drole! Silly, girl... huahaha... Okay. Now. Press your head against my heart. Feel him beat. Listen to my voice. Hear beyond it. Find my spirit. Free your soul... Qui adores-tu...? Et qui tu adores...? Eh bien... viens avec moi... entres.. viens avec moi a la campangne... come with me to the countryside... to my home... there... can you see them...? Hear them? Smell them? Touch them? Now then... be them... be--
--The wolves. We were hunted.
A long time coming, it was. We had hunted vampires for so long. So so long now... and so... it was their turn now.
Just before daybreak, just when we thought they had run off, flown off, whatever it is those “Skeetos” would do when their time was up... we would return to our abodes along the country side. And that's when they struck.
We had become too complacent, too comfortable with our regular hunts, especially during those times when MotherMoon was pregnant with desires to protect us for always. And so when they lined up ready to do battle before dawn, we had already smelled them and were ready.
Did they think they could sneak up on us? They took us for fools.
And like fools we fell for it.
Head first into battle did our Alphas charge.
And head first is what they lost.
Silver-lined blades honed to a razor's edge. Quite effective against over-confident, cocksure brutes. It was bold of them, of those blood sucking mosquitoes. Those 'skeetos... they knew they only had a limited amount of time before they had to flee the sun's accusing light, but they made efficient use of their time...
They were to slaughter us all upon that countryside. And so they did.
Save for two of us. Two sister wolves. One of magic and the other of strong emotion.
Do you know what the MoonStone is? It not an item upon jewelry. It is not even a piece of jewellry. The MoonStone is not an inanimate object...
Oh but the sister wolves would flee and live another day. But they would make sure that should anything ever again happen like this, a slaughter such as this, they would make sure their bloodlines would never die.
The MoonStone is not an inanimate object. The MoonStone is the name of the spell they cast upon a pretty white wolf with lovely blue eyes and a fluffy snowy white tail.
With magic, emotion, spirit and blood, the First Born of the Devil-Wolves was born. A were-wolf is a creature that starts off as a human and becomes a monstrous wolf. The Devil-Wolf is a were-wolf that starts off as a wolf and becomes a lovely woman... Devil-Wolf. For only the Devil could allow such an abomination to exist against his Brother's will...
We named her Genvieve. Our L'ame-Soeur. Genie, our Kindred Spirit.
And we taught her what a human must know. What a human must be like. She hated to eat with utensils and wear clothes at first, but soon enough she took to her conditioning and picked up the mannerism to smile and then wink. Then came the day she became angry. So very angry. And our dreams came true.
The third form, the hybrid form Genie called a 'Goddess,' erupted from our little immortal and we wept with joy. But when we found out she could not infect others, and worse yet, that she could not create offspring we wept with sadness.
And she became useless to us. And so we had to cull our beautiful white furred pup. We wept for her before we ritually culled her by the light of the pregnant MotherMoon. We sang and danced for her spirit and ran off into the night to hunt for our feast to honour our failed Kindred Spirit.
When we returned to honour her with the feast we found the the body missing. Rage and tears consumed us. Who could have defiled our Kindred Sprit and our ritual?! But in the next heartbeats, our senses returned and bitter tears and snarling outrage ended and gave way to utter shock.
Bloodied footprints lead away from the altar. Our Genie had up and walked away.
In attempting to kill her, we found out of her deviant feature; she was not allergic to silver.
Our Kindred Spirit was not allergic to silver.
We howled for her, but not a single one of the clansmembers made a move to retrieve her.
We betrayed her and she was done with us.
But.. she was our bloodline continued. Even if in this war we fell, all of us, our lineage would continue though her. Genvieve our Kindred Spirit. Let her run even if it takes her to the ghostly light of Mother Moon in the--
--Earth world. Welcome back, chere... huahaha... welcome back. I remember you. Je me souviens... I remember and for always. You are awake, sister... good. You see my dream then. Then we are bonded.
I will know when you are sad. I will know when you are hurt. I will know when you need me. I will be there to keep you from harm and heal you; that is our bond with the MoonStone. You will always be a Sister to me... as long as you are useful. I must cull you if you are not. Do you understand? That is our ways, sister. I am not a regular werewolf. I cannot infect, but I can bond. I am mother, I am Matriarch. I will protect you.
And from our bond I can mate with you and give you child too; that is how we will become Kindred Spirits then. But know that your bebe will always be a girl. And it will be cute and fuzzy. It will be a fuzzy cub. You will give birth to another Ame-Soeur, a wolf like me. And when it grows up, it will eat you. But you will not die. Non. You will take over the body of the human form. It will be young and beautiful as always... but you will live with the other spirit you birthed. That of the the wolf. And it will protect you too when you need claw, tooth and tail in the form of a 'Goddess.' Just like the 850 pound Goddess form I take to protect you, sister. All sisters. And should you mate, that will be not only your daughter... but mine as well. Who loves ya...? Genie does...
Ahhh yes... so now you see. The Sisters... the werewolf girls that are Sister Kindred Spirits... oui... they are all my sisters... my lovers... my pack. They are useful and they know who they love and who loves them too.
Soooo... why did I come to Mr. Seil then? Because I am over a thousand years old, sister. I tire of it all. I just want to run back into the woods of my home hills and... and just that. Run. On all fours. Toujours.For ever.
But you want to know my story... mon histoire, n'est-ce pas? Long story... but how you say..? Oh! 'For a nutshell?' Ouaiii...? Close enough. More drinks first...? And some more kisses then... huahahah... more drinks... d'accord! Okay! Bien! One more drink... and kiss... now! 'Nutshell' this is it...
I escaped my home forest and my clan because they try to kill me. I know, I know... sad. Drink to that, sister...! But! Ecoutes-moi... listen. They never come to chase me but I will always remember them fondly.. even though they tried to... you know.. kill me. I fighted my way through Limbel until I hear about Mr. Seil. I know what I want then. I am monster. I want to be beautiful on all fours! Pauvre pauvre chou-chou, non?Drink to that! Okay. Oookay. Like I must did some bad things to some very, very bad people for one to find the circus, the carnivale! Donc! Salut to me! I beat them up! More drinks, sister! Wahoo! Sooooo... They tell me of a crack in the space between Azure world and Earth world and crawled in. Then... I fight some more because, eh bien, I am Genie and I must did that, hien? Huahahah... Drink! Salut! And so, I finded Monsieur Seil! Oh la-la, c'est un diable, mon Monsieur Seil, mais il est gentil et polit...il peut parler avec une langue lisse d'argent, non...? Eh... en tous cas... eh bien, puis, nous avons parler et... le BAM!
I sign on paper. Done.
Clap hands, sister. C'est ca. BUT!!! Genie is also with needs. Famille, non? Sooo... huahahah... I made sexy-sexies with girls and made more L'Ame-Soeurs. And so now here I am... more drinks, sister... huahahah...?
I do not like to tell that story. I would rather not. It makes me feel... sad? And... shamed..? Oui...
Hold me, sister... please...? A kiss also...? I would like more kisses... mmmm....
Soooo... you feel like you want to become Kindred Spirit...? I can make it happen... if you want... if not... well... we have no clothes on anyways... huahahahah... drink...?
SUGARY POISONS!!! Awooooo bebes... ;D
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ◑ ~
Does it please you that we collect souls for you, demon? Does it please you to play us like a spoiled child with many a toy? Does it please you that you, and you alone, own the lives of mortals, immortals and everything in between? Very well, sir, I should hope so, for if I were in your position, I should love to possess that much power over so many lives and souls even in my own demonic damnation. I be will as polite and giving as you need or require, 'Master, so long as you give leeway to my Sisters and Kindred Spirits. I will fulfill my contract and I will be out of your hair in 30 years and we will both be happy to say farewell to each other.
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ◑ ~
Have I been here long enough to know your tale? Oui, I know of your twins and your marriage. I know what you are, but I do not know why you in particular. Why this angel of this lineage? Why does 'Master keep this one, when he should have the pick over countless others? Meh... It does not matter whatever the reason in the end, Rose Bell. The 'Master is happiest and most lenient when you are still kept safe and sound under lock and key. You are beautiful, radiant and a golden creature worthy of love, tenderness and care from only the utmost pure definition of a gentleman. And as long as Genie and the Sisters are here, you will never escape that 'gentle man.'
Andracos Soleviel ~ ◑ ~
What does Genie care for you? The same that you probably care for her. That is fine by me. You are a half-ling and have ties in the 'Underworld.' That makes you no more special than the fact I have Sisters in the Underworld as well. I keep to my Sisters here, the same way you keep with your entourage. Is my part of the 'Booth of interest to you? Non. You find no chase nor thrill in fulfilling carnal lust from the Sisters of the 'Booth. But their services are not for your type. Besides, they are too good for you, half-demon... they are not victims; we choose whom or whom not to bed with our Sisters. But in the end, Andracos... we are okay. No bad blood. Just do not touch my blue-headed faerie. Ne touches pas, monsieur. For Blueberry Moon... Jasi? She? She is mine.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
This new one. It still walks with an air of elegance and nobility, but you cannot fool the wolf's nose. The blackness within you reeks with each step you take. Huahahah... Oh, but what world is this where the sisters and brothers of Light will sell their souls for such things their Kingdom cannot provide for them. Another angel tumbling from the crumbling cloud-borne righteous Kingdom in Azure... maybe that uppity bitch CeCi was right afterall. Time for a Queendom...
Arina 'Feather' Lécuyer ~ ☠ ~
Oui... well I nothing you too. Oooohh Arina, my 'Fallen Feather'... where do I begin... Liar, cheat, manipulator, wears ill-fitting clothes, and cannot accessorize to save her worthless life. Boorish yet boring, filled with fake laughs, forced smiles... truly this is a third female wheel on a two-wheeled male-cart... a tag-a-long at best tolerated by Andracros, most likely begrudgingly included in his entourage. Perhaps the Siren-Demon crossbreed would get more respect if he stopped giving handouts to the stray tramp and gave up on her for good; stop stringing along the poor, poor, thing, pretending as if she does hold importance and sway his entourage. Huhahahah... Oh 'Feather,' you know Genie just plays. No matter what Andracos says, you are more than worthy here at the 'Booth... on your back or in whatever position the whim or fancy of your boss, Genie, THE GENVIEVE L'AME-SOEUR, decides that day. Bitch, you best start stretching... huahahah...
Soren Novák ~ ◑ ~
A higher-up in the Carnivale... arrogant, brash, willful. I see in your eyes and it reeks upon your demon body despite the calm behaviour. You and I are very much alike... you only reward the worthy and useful to you. The difference lies within our desires, Soren. You have taken souls for greed and power. Genie takes souls for the same reason, but you... you take them for yourself. I take them for generations and generations and generations. Imagine all those of my bloodline coming together as one... you think we will merely run upon all fours...? Huahahah... my daughter and sister Kindred Spirits outside the carnival have their own bonds. They have been bonding for centuries... do you think Genie would just let them bond with just anyone or anything...? Come now, Soren... you know this bitch... and so does Seil. We are alike in that everyone we deal with, we know their uses and worthiness. But Genie knows something else... just like Monsieur Seil. I know about loyalty and bonds. We are bound to this carnivale by collections of souls. My sisters and daughters are bound to me by blood. Pack mentality. I am Alpha. I am Matriarch. Your days as a higher up, outranking Genie, are numbered, Soren. Awwooo, bebe...
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☠ ~
Once upon a time, I hunted your kind and enjoyed every moment of it; your kind marked as our number one prey. We the wolves... Kindred Spirits, Primals and Converts alike hunted sided by side to keep your numbers down. Your kind... 'Skeetos, we call you. Mosquitoes. Blood sucking pests. Murdering in the name of population control was never more satisfying... squashing a mosquito... huahahah... you wasteful creatures... you feed off your victim and when you are done, the body still remains... wasteful parasites, all of you. Then changes happened. Genie learned that your kind are actually useful. Those wasted bodies... we repurposed and made stews and sausage... we fed the desperate and destitute poor souls in the places in Limbel bordering Urbaniel. Oh, we were hated by the higher ups but loved by the countless starving... if ever you have a chance, ask them: "Who loves you...?" Can you guess their resounding response, Pachid? Oh how useful... and lovely to bed is your female kind. And they never thought that a wolf and a mosquito could ever have offspring... females no less... they don't know me do they...? Huahahah...
But yes, all in all, we must be enemies, Pachid, I'm afraid. I am wolf. You are mosquito. When I am done here, I must kill you before I leave the carnivale. Such a shame, because really and honestly, I do think you are decent, you. You keep to your own and you keep your own. For what reason exactly, I do not know, but I what I do know is that you are loyal to your friends, your entourage... your pack. So yes, Pachid, you are a skeeto, and we must be enemies... but that is not until either of us leaves the carnivale. Until then, Pachid, keep to your own, but if you ever feel the urge, you are welcome to the 'Booth when JaSi has her newest batch to taste test ~☺~ We shall have a drink as friends before that fateful day comes when we must fight. And, oh, my Feather, Arina can join; she can wait till we are done and lap up the leftovers. She is used to that. Huahahah...
But Pachid... keep your Andracros away from there, lest he wishes to charm snakes without legs and other apendage. He knows how I am with the little winged blue-head... JaSi is mine.
Reira Masin ~ ☺ ~
You are new. And I know where you are. For Genie has captured your wind blown, easy breezy scent. Come to the 'Booth, young human, earn a bond. Come and become a Sister and know happiness and pleasures and a sisterhood like you will never ever know. You will be protected and you will know who you love, and who loves you. Come Reira. Come to Genvieve and the Sisters. Bond and you will never ever be alone here in the De'Seil Carnivale. Oh how little winged blue-heads would love to see you bond with Genie. You do not mind if she watches do you? It is okay, young human, you can watch us too. Genie has lots of mirrors mounted up and lit just right in Genie's lair. Come then... Huahahah...
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑ ~
You are more a Peeper than a Witch. And I have your scent, Stefan. You think I do not? Genie fought the Dark in the shores that touched Urbaniel and Limbel together. I am an ooooooold wolfie, cherie. I can smell you in the shadows. You are not a demon, you see. Ever wonder if Genie can reach into the dark and tear out your throat? Keep spying upon my Sisters in the 'Booth. If they feel uncomfortable, they will not perform properly. If they do not perform properly, then they do not collect enough souls. If they do not collect enough souls, their Matriarch gets upset. When Martriarch gets upset, things get their throats torn out. So. Ever wonder if Genie can reach into the dark and tear out your throat? Ahhh... no, you are right. I would never do that. I cannot kill upon Carnivale grounds. Genie would just reach into the dark and rip off your little appendage and feed it to the clean up gnomies. But you have not upset Matriarch... yet. Peeper. Huahahah... No, you are still useful to me. You have much information in your possession that I would very much like to possess myself. We can trade, no? Just tell me what you would like, Peeper.
Ty ~ ◑ ~
Still but a child is the blue eyed wonder and I have seen this one grow like a weed. I have seen this one's mind be corrupted by that self-righteous, self-serving, glutton for attention and adoration... that teasing slut: "Oooohhh... it is fabulously yours and truly... Starla Carlotta!!!! Ooooohhh...!" Eat glass shards and drink acid, bitch. I should have raised Ty. I should have been her mother-figure. I am Matriacrch, am I not? Such a waste of a perfectly good, flexible and limber physique... why was she not taught to dance proper? Why was I blocked from teaching Ty how to move and sway, dancing to the those throbbing rhythms and stretching herself out in all perfection knowing all those positions and styles? So then, why does Ty stray away from me? It is because Starla poisons Ty's mind. That slutty siren is jealous of me. And they call me a whore... maybe that could be true... but I do not play games with affections and affectations. Unlike that teasing slut Starla; I am not fake with my love. If Genie loves you then it is the truth. No games. Starla's influence over Ty must end. She must be brought to her knees and trampled upon. You do not play games with Genie's affections. Starla will learn why and I will rip Ty from her greedy grasp. Even if I have to tear off a siren arm or two to get her away from that slut... Ty will be mine. ~☺~ Who loves ya...? Come to maman...
Imalia ~ ◑ ~
The primal siren. Captive yet captivating all the same. My little blue-headed fae is infatuated with you. Why? Because you are polar opposites... sometimes that thing you desire most is that one thing you just cannot get. I watch from the outsides when JaSi goes to your abode, flitting happily along, bottle in one hand, stolen gift in the other. There is another kind of siren, a slutty one that stole someone from me. You know full well of whom I speak. I will not lose JaSi. That faerie is mine. You try to let me know any different and we shall see if your song can work its magic upon me before 850 pounds of Genie comes howling, smashing through your walls, decimating your glass container and seizing you by your throat to correct your error.
But... for all the years we have been here, together at the carnivale, JaSi has returned to me without your scent tainting her. So it means we must be getting along... huahahah... non. I know you do not care for relations with others or you would be more forthcoming and playing less the shut in than you already are. You play by your own rules... constrained by the 'Master, but your own rules nonetheless. I do too. In that regard, I respect you, Imalia, I do. And beyond that darkened stare, I can see something else. And what I see within, I applaud. ~☺~ Those that stand to face their demons will only be victorious when their intent is not to stand up against their demons... but to murder each and every single one of them in cold blood.
Jing Lao ~ ☠ ~
I hate you. Hate, hate, hate, hate... haaaaaaaaate you. There are times I see Jing Lao and I so want to rip that smile right off of that wonderfully exotic face of hers--his...!!! Ugh! How dare that one so pretty, pretty be?! It is a male...! So then. I would never drink tea from it nor eat biscuit from it neither... who would ever take a meal from such a thing...? Miss Muffet would not! And neither will this Miss Genie! A Shifter do I find remarkably grand, but a spider?!?!? Genie fears nothing. NOTHING!!! Not even a spider. I mean it. I hate, hate, hate, hate spiders, but be rest assured that the Alpha, The Matriarch fears nothing. Not even a spindly, tickly, hairy, eight legged, creepy, multi-eyes staring, jumping on you, then crawling, skittering down your neck-- AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! JASI!!! JaSi ma chou, come here!!!! I think something just crawled down my top! Come help! Now!!!! EWWWWWWWW!!!!
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
A shadow of an apparition... huahahah... I do not know whether to pity it for coming here, or whether to find any means necessary to try to slay the wraith. What good will it do for the carnivale. We all run upon our own instincts, judgments and ethics and so too does this being, but unyielding is it in its worldview. It is what it is. It will drain you of strength and hope. It will impregnate you with terrible thoughts and visions. It is a pestilence of the mind; it is negativity manifested in the form of a wilted-whilte woman. I pity it for having to come here and spread its terrible seeds of dark and depressing thoughts for it cannot help it. But that being the case, I cannot allow it to infect and contaminate others here... ones that love Genie, and ones that Genie loves for that wraith can ruin sisterhoods. Spectres are pests of the OtherSides feeding like parasites upon the strong emotions and thoughts of those with beating hearts and thriving flesh and blood. It must be abolished before the depression and possessions begin. I do know that JaSi fears Meidre. But I do know that that little blue-headed fae does have the means and weaponry proper to fight back a spectre even if that little bubbling cuteness herself is ignorant to such things. A smothering blanket of Negativity is all that Meidre can bring and will never will such a happening prevail here at the carnivale. I have lived much, much much too long to live like that. I will never live like that again. Ever.
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
Oooooohhh... ooooohhh la-la... It is "The AngelSlayer..." I have heard of you. There are those here that will fear you. ...And then there are those here that will hunt you regardless of consequence. Whatever the case, I shall draw myself a drink, sit back comfortably and watch and see if you live up to your reputation. Let's see just how useful you really are, "Antoine..."
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
The newest member here...a human male with a toy. Huahahaha... Meh. We shall see just what kind of games it has joined, willingly or not, and just how it is going to get played and then owned here. Your toy... it was not meant for mortals. It was meant for their torment... huahahah... We all have demons we have to deal with and now you have just invited you initial demon onto the very grounds of the Carnivale de'Seil. If you upset the 'Master so much that Genie begins to lose privileges, then be rest assured that The Sister L'Ame-Soeur will drop by to your little wagon for a visit to 'rectify' the situation.
Angoriel ~ ~
Sarah Hiddle ~~
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ~
Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur ~ ~
Robin ~ ~
Girlie Go Boom Hey~hey~!!
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
Whudufurks! Double post! Urps! >,<! Sorry, err'body! U,u!
Silent Resonance
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
.†. Brown Hair | 5'7" | 110lbs | Deep blue eyes .†.
Sarah Hiddle.
Age:
One Hundred and Seven Human years. (107)
Gender:
Female.
Species:
Angel.
Level of Contamination:
Mild.
Level of Glow:
Moderate.
Wings:
Turquoise colored ethereal wings that look more like an aura than actual physical appendage.
Not to difficult to hide her wings or glow.
Most Used Power:
Sarah excels at the use of Earth Magic; through growing agriculture and using the Earth itself to her needs.
Significant/Special Belongings:
A thinly torn piece of faded red cloth she keeps wrapped around her wrist several times and tied off at the end. She keeps it on at all times.
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Because Sarah isn't very violent she often tries to avoid fights. Though if it is unavoidable she often uses her Earth magic as more of a defense until her opponent tires themselves out breaking down the stone walls or chasing after her. Despite this, and much to the surprise of many, she does know how to handle herself in a fist fight. Her mild contamination has lead her anger to take over a few times in her many years to knocking out a nuisance she can't use her magic on.
Weapon of Choice:
She doesn't use weapons. A weapon is meant to kill, an act she would never cross.
Job Title & Description:
Grounds Keeper - Because of Sarah's natural kinship with the Earth she was best suited with keeping the grounds of the Carnival. Making sure the grass kept alive and selling flowers to couples that attend the carnival.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
Fifty-Eight Thousand. (58,000)
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
Two Hundred years. (200)
What Was Your Wish?
Absolve the sins of a soul in Hell and be granted access to Heaven.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
Two Hundred and Fourteen. (214)
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
Thirty-Two years and Five months. (32y, 5m)
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
It has changed the formerly upbeat and chipper Sarah into a rather somber and melancholy individual. Though this is only mild as she still occasionally shows emotion; it is only now that her joy is more an occasion then a state of being.
Personality:
Sarah is rather calm and kept to herself. Not one to speak up unless necessary. She is generally kind and sweet, always willing to lend an ear to any who would care to ask. Only now she doesn't seem as Sympathetic or genuinely interested in the trouble of others as she did when she first came to the carnival. But in truth she does still care, she cares deeply for the people of the Carnival. They were her family after all. No matter how deranged or dark or bizarre, she cared for them and their needs. She simply has trouble finding the urge to express her emotions after all the years.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?:
Sarah's birth was of no significance. Another Angel amongst the rest. She always did her best, as all her brothers and sisters did. She cared deeply for her God and his creation. Taking up the career of Guardian she came to Earth. Kept out of sight and quietly watching over a young girl. And thus young Sarah's life would for ever change.
There was nothing special about this young girl, Charlotte Edmonte - at least not in the eyes of anyone else but Sarah. Day after day, night after night she watched over young Charlotte from birth. Watching as she grew and changed not only physically but mentally. She grew to love the girl as the many years past. She never truly knew, not even to this day, what her love really was. Stemmed from Passion or not she never knew. All she knew was that it was love.
Many, many years passed as Sarah remained silently watching and protecting the now Middle Aged Charlotte. She married a man in her early twenties, had a few children shortly after. Her children now grown she received a phone call. As Sarah watched Charlotte slowly crumble in grief. Her only son and daughter had died in a car accident. Sarah desired deeply to show herself to Charlotte, console her through the pain of her loss. But she could not, it was not permitted. All she had to do was protect her from more grief. Though this grief would be her last.
She took a knife to her wrist and Sarah was left only staring helpless at the pale corpse, highlighted by the bright crimson that encased the floor around her. Her darling Charlotte had killed herself, and she could do nothing to stop it. Her angelic magic not strong enough to save a life nor heal fatal wounds. Sarah knew where Charlotte would end up, a prison worse than any. For all suicides went to the same place. She knew of only one option, a Demon named Seil.
Sarah came to the Carnival and traded her soul to absolve Charlotte of her sins. She could not wish to bring her back to life to continue her life of grief. But as least she could remove her pain and give her peace in the after life, and join her children.
Dark Jack The Jack of Darkness
Member
Seen
3 hrs ago
Appearance:
(For the appearance of the head only. Angoriel's facial hair is only about half length of that depicted in the picture, however, and his eyes are azure.)
Standing an imposing 6' 5", Angoriel is of a naturally masculine and well-muscled build, being wide-shouldered and broad-chested both due to a hereditary tendency towards such an appearance and due to vigorous physical training. His hands are unusually rough-skinned and he has numerous pale scars on the front of his fingers and the palms of his hands, which appear similar to burn-scars. These scars are also present on his shins, stomach, chest, shoulders, sides and back, though the skin there is not as hardened with toil as that on his hands, and the scars there generally do not run as deeply.
During performances Angoriel has found that displaying his scars usually has a strong effect on the audience and instills a degree of certainty in them that the danger in his act is real, and so he wears nothing more than a pair of back knee-length trousers, going bare-chested and bare-footed; he will however tie up his hair in a little ponytail during performances, just so that it won't get in the way. Outside of these he has come to somewhat enjoy the fashions of Earth and likes to wear suit-pants in either gray or black, white shirts and either a gray sports jacket or a black vest. He usually goes without socks, but wears black Oxfords, and likes to don a gray fedora. If he knows that battle is soon to come, however, he will almost certainly forsake any of these clothes (possibly leaving on his leg-garments) and wear his armor instead, as described in the Belongings-section.
True appearance: Most of Angoriel's true appearance - that which could be compared to a demon's vilest aspect - is reminiscent of his human self, though certain rather extreme changes overcome his human features that transform them into a monstrous mockery of their usual form. For one thing all of Angoriel's hair-growth turns black instead of brown, and his skin turns ashen white, so pale that the blue of his veins stands out clearly through his skin. The only exception to this is the area immediately around his eyes, marking the outline of his eye sockets, which instead turns dark crimson. His irises also turn bright yellow, and his tongue grows by about half its length and becomes inhumanly pointed like that of a lizard.
His more obviously inhuman features are also those that makes him more powerful and dangerous in his true form than at any other time, however, these being the transformation of his arms and the emergence of his wings. As an angel Angoriel possesses wings similar to those of his kin, feathered and with an impressive span of nearly twelve feet, but unlike the common angel's feathers, Angoriel's are tainted black by his blood and sins. And as a demon, Angoriel's arms are warped and grotesque to behold; they grow significantly longer, with the upper arms alone increasing their length to 1' 8", the forearm extending as far as 1' 4", the palms of his hands coming to measure eight inches across and the length of all of his fingers more than doubling, adding another eight inches, bringing each of his arms up to a total reach of 4' 4". All the various parts of his upper appendages also become notably thicker, sturdier and stronger with this mutation, and each of Angoriel's fingers grows an inch-long jet-black hooked claw.
Full Name: Angoriel
Age: Appears around thirtyish; the actual duration of his life measures an uncertain number of centuries, somewhere between a half and a whole millennium.
Gender: Male
Species:
Level of Contamination: Horrendous; though Angoriel is not yet truly corrupt, his being is far from pure either.
Level of Glow: None; Angoriel lost his glow along with his purity.
Ability to Blend: Decent; with no glow to worry about hiding, Angoriel can focus his efforts on concealing his true appearance and assuming a more human exterior. His disguise tends to fail whenever he experiences strong emotions, however, resulting in the emergence of his hidden traits.
Most Used Power: From this angel's soul flows the chill of death and the cool of breeze alike, for Angoriel's greatest affinity is one that spans many elements; cold. Lowering temperatures is a basic, yet frighteningly potent ability, as substances condensate and freeze and life becomes and impossibility. Be it to cool a beverage or soften the heat of the summer sun, or quell flames or solidify a being's blood in their veins, cold is the power that is most commonly exhibited.
An ability that derives from this power of cold is the one for Angoriel to make himself impervious to fire by cooling his skin to unusually low temperatures. The downside of doing this is obviously that as long as Angoriel maintains this resistance to heat without him actually being subjected to a dangerously hot environment, he is simply making himself incredibly cold, the detrimental effects of which he is not impervious to.
He also possesses some mastery in manipulating water and air, though this power is secondary to that of cold and mainly obtained due to these being the most common conductors of this.
Significant/Special Belongings: His old equipment from serving as keeper of Urbaniel, consisting of an iron cuirass, a pair of leather gauntlets, a pair of iron greaves and a curious weapon unique to the tartarus angels, which is a forty-seven inch iron pole with three sharp hooks protruding from the end at a 120-degree angle to one another (like this). Aside from this his only notable possession is a small "stone" that is continuously changing its shape, size, mass, color and hardness; a souvenir from Limblel.
The purpose of the cuirass and greaves is actually two-fold, as not only does it offer an additional layer of protection on top of his naturally steel-hard skin but also continuously burns him for as long as he wears it due to his intolerance to iron, causing him lasting pain wherever it is in direct contact with his skin; this is also the cause of his burn-scars. It is not because Angoriel enjoys pain that he does this, but because the armor prevents tartarus angels from accidentally reverting to their true forms even during heated combat, particularly since the back of the cuirass will act as an agonizing obstruction to the emergence of his wings, the halting of which will negate the transformation altogether. The gauntlets are obviously not meant to protect his hands from external threats in combat, since his skin his much more durable than leather, but to shield his hands from his own weapon, since its iron will also burn him at direct contact, potentially making it very difficult to wield the three-hooked pole properly.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: Having trained only in fighting while wearing his suit of armor, adding an additional layer of protection to his already highly damage-resistant skin, this remains the only way that Angoriel knows how to fight. Although he obviously cannot wear his armor during everyday business at the Carnival - nor can he comfortably carry his weapon with him, either - Angoriel manner of fighting is extremely offensively oriented, with near-complete disregard for his own well-being. When unarmed he is liable to try to move in as close to his opponent as possible; with humanoids he will savagely pummel the other with all of his considerable strength, focusing his attention on head and abdomen, while his legs are used mainly to try to lock the other's legs in place or at least causing the other to trip if it tries to move, or alternatively by directing a sweeping kick at the other's legs. Against more bestial opponents Angoriel is more likely to attempt to grapple his adversary, preferably maneuvering himself onto the other's back from where he will then either wrestle the other to the ground or strangle it, if he is able to do so.
When armed with his three-hooked pole, however, Angoriel prefers to delay his own attack until his opponent tries to attack him, first. During this time when the other likely lowers its defenses and leaves itself prone, he will use the pole in a way much similar to how one would use a more traditional hafted weapon, letting the heavy hook-head carry the momentum of his swings. He will try to anchor one or more hooks in the other's flesh, optimally lodging a hook behind the other's shoulder blade, a rib or lodging them into an armpit. Upon achieving this he will usually pull on it relentlessly, leaving the opponent vulnerable to his possible allies' intervention and otherwise just prevent it from performing any further attacks.
Obviously these primary modes of attack are unlikely to actually defeat an opponent (unless the opponent has a human level of strength and durability, in which case even these attacks are likely to kill it) and are meant mainly to distract, disarm and impose movement of his adversary. But at the same time as he is doing the aforementioned things, if Angoriel actually intends to kill his opponent, he will exert his power of cold over his opponent and thus progressively weaken it and eventually kill it.
This is all in his human form, of course, and while this is how Angoriel will usually fight, there are times when he must fight as his true self, in the event of which he discards all pretense of humanity and surrenders to his demon-blood. With all the strength he possesses in this state, Angoriel is liable to brutally assault his opponent with his claws and otherwise engage in a fighting style solely reliant on his vigor, his mobility and his reach.
Weapon of Choice: His three-hooked iron pole, the weapon of tartarus angels called hampol.
Job Title & Description: The Fireproof Man
Although Angoriel obtained regrettably few skills during his time as a soldier guarding the borders of the Underworld suitable for a Carnival-performance, he has found that it is quite possible to shock and impress most audiences simply by demonstrating his ability to endure the touch of flame, though obviously he would not reveal to them that he uses his power to make himself impervious to their heat for as long as he stands amidst them. The exact details of his act vary a little from one performance to the next, although one act is rarely much different from the last, as he struggles to find things to do that is suitable for his purposes. His most common acts are those of walking on burning coals, leaping through rings of fire and often failing intentionally, as well as generally just exposing himself to naked flame. He will often feign stress or pain at the various parts of his act to make it impact the audience more strongly, although the likelihood of him actually getting hurt by it is almost nonexistent as long as he has the protection of his powers and durable skin.
Beyond this he will usually help a hand wherever such is needed provided that he does not specifically dislike the one requiring assistance.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 500000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: A thousand years.
What Was Your Wish?: For the tartarus angels to be freed from their gruesome occupation and gain the freedom to choose their own fates.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?: 22416
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?: Fifty-six years.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?: Although he believes that he has not been affected by this grisly task due to him being used to the similarly dreadful duty of tormenting damned souls, Angoriel cannot ultimately say truthfully that it has not changed him. While he consciously still regards his victims with detached indifference and rationalizes the action by thinking that he is used to doing much worse, and that the people he is doing it to probably deserve it anyways, he is in fact haunted by it more and more with every day he spends at the Carnival. Angoriel was originally convinced that all the creatures but angels were vile things indeed due to him having only seen those of them condemned to walk Urbaniel, but being at the Carnival and seeing more and more of the other species has taught him otherwise, and as his understanding of other beings deepens, so does the weight of the thousands of souls he has already collected. He has started having nightmares about the people he has branded, or in a few cases downright murdered, and his hesitation in doing what he must to fulfill his contract with Mr. Seil grows with every acquaintance and friendship he makes.
But while Angoriel can mostly convince himself that he does not care about those who fall prey to him, he cannot feign indifference towards the act of collection itself. His loathing toward treating souls like a commodity or a collectible, and of aiding a demon in doing so nonetheless, grows only stronger as time goes by and his regret of his own actions deepens.
Personality: Painful as such a cliché is to make, it remains a defining trait of Angoriel that he is inflicted with a terrible duality in his mind, and is driven by the benevolence of his angelic blood and the malevolence of his demon blood alike, and suffers from this internal conflict almost constantly. He often thinks long and hard before he speaks of acts, trying to sort through his instincts and emotions to learn whether he should act upon one of them or stick to being strictly rational and disregard the choice between purity and corruption altogether. This is often the case, and although he is an inwardly highly emotional person who is strongly affected by what others say and do - often in several different ways at once - he usually try to outwardly hide his feelings and the distress these cause him behind a facade of logic.
Although he is trapped between the influence of good and evil, Angoriel wants and tries to be a good person in many cases, and while he is hardly the sociable sort and never one to voluntarily join large groups of people, he enjoys talking to people whose presence he can actually tolerate and will go to great lengths to help those he considers deserving of such. He is easy to anger, however, and while he does not give in to his ire easily and almost always attempts to suppress his rage rather than give in to it, he becomes more and more impulsive and reckless the angrier he gets, and thus grows increasingly liable to turn to violence. He is a very patient man as long as someone is not doing something that Angoriel is particularly opposed to, however, so unless someone is intentionally trying to anger him or is doing something unusually cruel, his irritation will usually stay on manageable levels.
While he does not see eye-to-eye with all of the other people at the Carnival he does feel kinship with them due to their common bonds, and so he will often go out of his way to help or comfort even people he does not particularly like as long as he can even be in their presence at all without suffering major discomfort from this. He believes strongly in honor above all and admires people who act with honorable motives and cherishes innocence, but at the same time scorns weakness and naivety. Although he would not readily admit so to anyone he genuinely enjoys fighting, and finds it particularly exhilarating if his opponent seems to be stronger than himself.
Sugary poison.
(For the appearance of the head only. Angoriel's facial hair is only about half length of that depicted in the picture, however, and his eyes are azure.)
Standing an imposing 6' 5", Angoriel is of a naturally masculine and well-muscled build, being wide-shouldered and broad-chested both due to a hereditary tendency towards such an appearance and due to vigorous physical training. His hands are unusually rough-skinned and he has numerous pale scars on the front of his fingers and the palms of his hands, which appear similar to burn-scars. These scars are also present on his shins, stomach, chest, shoulders, sides and back, though the skin there is not as hardened with toil as that on his hands, and the scars there generally do not run as deeply.
During performances Angoriel has found that displaying his scars usually has a strong effect on the audience and instills a degree of certainty in them that the danger in his act is real, and so he wears nothing more than a pair of back knee-length trousers, going bare-chested and bare-footed; he will however tie up his hair in a little ponytail during performances, just so that it won't get in the way. Outside of these he has come to somewhat enjoy the fashions of Earth and likes to wear suit-pants in either gray or black, white shirts and either a gray sports jacket or a black vest. He usually goes without socks, but wears black Oxfords, and likes to don a gray fedora. If he knows that battle is soon to come, however, he will almost certainly forsake any of these clothes (possibly leaving on his leg-garments) and wear his armor instead, as described in the Belongings-section.
True appearance: Most of Angoriel's true appearance - that which could be compared to a demon's vilest aspect - is reminiscent of his human self, though certain rather extreme changes overcome his human features that transform them into a monstrous mockery of their usual form. For one thing all of Angoriel's hair-growth turns black instead of brown, and his skin turns ashen white, so pale that the blue of his veins stands out clearly through his skin. The only exception to this is the area immediately around his eyes, marking the outline of his eye sockets, which instead turns dark crimson. His irises also turn bright yellow, and his tongue grows by about half its length and becomes inhumanly pointed like that of a lizard.
His more obviously inhuman features are also those that makes him more powerful and dangerous in his true form than at any other time, however, these being the transformation of his arms and the emergence of his wings. As an angel Angoriel possesses wings similar to those of his kin, feathered and with an impressive span of nearly twelve feet, but unlike the common angel's feathers, Angoriel's are tainted black by his blood and sins. And as a demon, Angoriel's arms are warped and grotesque to behold; they grow significantly longer, with the upper arms alone increasing their length to 1' 8", the forearm extending as far as 1' 4", the palms of his hands coming to measure eight inches across and the length of all of his fingers more than doubling, adding another eight inches, bringing each of his arms up to a total reach of 4' 4". All the various parts of his upper appendages also become notably thicker, sturdier and stronger with this mutation, and each of Angoriel's fingers grows an inch-long jet-black hooked claw.
Full Name: Angoriel
Age: Appears around thirtyish; the actual duration of his life measures an uncertain number of centuries, somewhere between a half and a whole millennium.
Gender: Male
Species:
Although outsiders might arbitrarily name this species simply dark angels, this is what their peculiar bloodline of celestials have come to call themselves. Although they are akin to most angels upon coming into existence, the longer their lives drag on, and the more they fulfill the duty they are born into, the greater the difference between their breeds becomes. Their task is to serve the archangel Uriel, aiding him in his role as guardian, although the tartarus angels' specific charge is nothing less than Urbaniel; here they act as keepers of the realm, ensuring the continued imprisonment of those sentenced to such in the Underworld and at the same time deliver punishment to the damned souls.
Their actions and their presence so near the border between Urbaniel and Limblel have their own corrupting influence, but this is only part of what causes them to differentiate. What truly sets them apart, and what qualified them for their grim trade in a realm so far from where angels normally wander, is their very lineage: tartarus angels is a breed produced by their progenitors, Samael and Lilith; an ancient archangel and a primordial demon. As a consequence of this, these angels come into being with naturally low purity that enables them to move in the vicinity of demons with less likelihood of being recognized as what they truly are, and the chances of discovery grow only slimmer as they live, work and corrupt themselves. Another sign of their bloodline is that their form possesses twisted features reminiscent of the alternate manifestation of demons; features that may be concealed the same as those of angels can - or transformed like a demon's can, depending on how you look at it - , but which will be revealed along with their angelic traits.
Tartarus angels remark themselves by being neither particularly pure or corrupt, thus not offending sensitivities against such things, while they at the same time are severely affected by extreme purity and corruption alike themselves and can only be at peace in the company of those who are neither. This also places the powers of Light and Shadow beyond their grasp, limiting them to commanding only the elements, and although they possess the resistance to damage that is common among angels and demons, tartarus angels are somewhat affected by iron, though not as much as a true demon. Though they are impure they are not fallen angels; tartarus angels can also fall, and will inevitably do so and delve into their demonic nature if they observe their duty in Urbaniel for long enough.
Their actions and their presence so near the border between Urbaniel and Limblel have their own corrupting influence, but this is only part of what causes them to differentiate. What truly sets them apart, and what qualified them for their grim trade in a realm so far from where angels normally wander, is their very lineage: tartarus angels is a breed produced by their progenitors, Samael and Lilith; an ancient archangel and a primordial demon. As a consequence of this, these angels come into being with naturally low purity that enables them to move in the vicinity of demons with less likelihood of being recognized as what they truly are, and the chances of discovery grow only slimmer as they live, work and corrupt themselves. Another sign of their bloodline is that their form possesses twisted features reminiscent of the alternate manifestation of demons; features that may be concealed the same as those of angels can - or transformed like a demon's can, depending on how you look at it - , but which will be revealed along with their angelic traits.
Tartarus angels remark themselves by being neither particularly pure or corrupt, thus not offending sensitivities against such things, while they at the same time are severely affected by extreme purity and corruption alike themselves and can only be at peace in the company of those who are neither. This also places the powers of Light and Shadow beyond their grasp, limiting them to commanding only the elements, and although they possess the resistance to damage that is common among angels and demons, tartarus angels are somewhat affected by iron, though not as much as a true demon. Though they are impure they are not fallen angels; tartarus angels can also fall, and will inevitably do so and delve into their demonic nature if they observe their duty in Urbaniel for long enough.
Level of Contamination: Horrendous; though Angoriel is not yet truly corrupt, his being is far from pure either.
Level of Glow: None; Angoriel lost his glow along with his purity.
Ability to Blend: Decent; with no glow to worry about hiding, Angoriel can focus his efforts on concealing his true appearance and assuming a more human exterior. His disguise tends to fail whenever he experiences strong emotions, however, resulting in the emergence of his hidden traits.
Most Used Power: From this angel's soul flows the chill of death and the cool of breeze alike, for Angoriel's greatest affinity is one that spans many elements; cold. Lowering temperatures is a basic, yet frighteningly potent ability, as substances condensate and freeze and life becomes and impossibility. Be it to cool a beverage or soften the heat of the summer sun, or quell flames or solidify a being's blood in their veins, cold is the power that is most commonly exhibited.
An ability that derives from this power of cold is the one for Angoriel to make himself impervious to fire by cooling his skin to unusually low temperatures. The downside of doing this is obviously that as long as Angoriel maintains this resistance to heat without him actually being subjected to a dangerously hot environment, he is simply making himself incredibly cold, the detrimental effects of which he is not impervious to.
He also possesses some mastery in manipulating water and air, though this power is secondary to that of cold and mainly obtained due to these being the most common conductors of this.
Significant/Special Belongings: His old equipment from serving as keeper of Urbaniel, consisting of an iron cuirass, a pair of leather gauntlets, a pair of iron greaves and a curious weapon unique to the tartarus angels, which is a forty-seven inch iron pole with three sharp hooks protruding from the end at a 120-degree angle to one another (like this). Aside from this his only notable possession is a small "stone" that is continuously changing its shape, size, mass, color and hardness; a souvenir from Limblel.
The purpose of the cuirass and greaves is actually two-fold, as not only does it offer an additional layer of protection on top of his naturally steel-hard skin but also continuously burns him for as long as he wears it due to his intolerance to iron, causing him lasting pain wherever it is in direct contact with his skin; this is also the cause of his burn-scars. It is not because Angoriel enjoys pain that he does this, but because the armor prevents tartarus angels from accidentally reverting to their true forms even during heated combat, particularly since the back of the cuirass will act as an agonizing obstruction to the emergence of his wings, the halting of which will negate the transformation altogether. The gauntlets are obviously not meant to protect his hands from external threats in combat, since his skin his much more durable than leather, but to shield his hands from his own weapon, since its iron will also burn him at direct contact, potentially making it very difficult to wield the three-hooked pole properly.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: Having trained only in fighting while wearing his suit of armor, adding an additional layer of protection to his already highly damage-resistant skin, this remains the only way that Angoriel knows how to fight. Although he obviously cannot wear his armor during everyday business at the Carnival - nor can he comfortably carry his weapon with him, either - Angoriel manner of fighting is extremely offensively oriented, with near-complete disregard for his own well-being. When unarmed he is liable to try to move in as close to his opponent as possible; with humanoids he will savagely pummel the other with all of his considerable strength, focusing his attention on head and abdomen, while his legs are used mainly to try to lock the other's legs in place or at least causing the other to trip if it tries to move, or alternatively by directing a sweeping kick at the other's legs. Against more bestial opponents Angoriel is more likely to attempt to grapple his adversary, preferably maneuvering himself onto the other's back from where he will then either wrestle the other to the ground or strangle it, if he is able to do so.
When armed with his three-hooked pole, however, Angoriel prefers to delay his own attack until his opponent tries to attack him, first. During this time when the other likely lowers its defenses and leaves itself prone, he will use the pole in a way much similar to how one would use a more traditional hafted weapon, letting the heavy hook-head carry the momentum of his swings. He will try to anchor one or more hooks in the other's flesh, optimally lodging a hook behind the other's shoulder blade, a rib or lodging them into an armpit. Upon achieving this he will usually pull on it relentlessly, leaving the opponent vulnerable to his possible allies' intervention and otherwise just prevent it from performing any further attacks.
Obviously these primary modes of attack are unlikely to actually defeat an opponent (unless the opponent has a human level of strength and durability, in which case even these attacks are likely to kill it) and are meant mainly to distract, disarm and impose movement of his adversary. But at the same time as he is doing the aforementioned things, if Angoriel actually intends to kill his opponent, he will exert his power of cold over his opponent and thus progressively weaken it and eventually kill it.
This is all in his human form, of course, and while this is how Angoriel will usually fight, there are times when he must fight as his true self, in the event of which he discards all pretense of humanity and surrenders to his demon-blood. With all the strength he possesses in this state, Angoriel is liable to brutally assault his opponent with his claws and otherwise engage in a fighting style solely reliant on his vigor, his mobility and his reach.
Weapon of Choice: His three-hooked iron pole, the weapon of tartarus angels called hampol.
Job Title & Description: The Fireproof Man
Although Angoriel obtained regrettably few skills during his time as a soldier guarding the borders of the Underworld suitable for a Carnival-performance, he has found that it is quite possible to shock and impress most audiences simply by demonstrating his ability to endure the touch of flame, though obviously he would not reveal to them that he uses his power to make himself impervious to their heat for as long as he stands amidst them. The exact details of his act vary a little from one performance to the next, although one act is rarely much different from the last, as he struggles to find things to do that is suitable for his purposes. His most common acts are those of walking on burning coals, leaping through rings of fire and often failing intentionally, as well as generally just exposing himself to naked flame. He will often feign stress or pain at the various parts of his act to make it impact the audience more strongly, although the likelihood of him actually getting hurt by it is almost nonexistent as long as he has the protection of his powers and durable skin.
Beyond this he will usually help a hand wherever such is needed provided that he does not specifically dislike the one requiring assistance.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 500000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: A thousand years.
What Was Your Wish?: For the tartarus angels to be freed from their gruesome occupation and gain the freedom to choose their own fates.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?: 22416
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?: Fifty-six years.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?: Although he believes that he has not been affected by this grisly task due to him being used to the similarly dreadful duty of tormenting damned souls, Angoriel cannot ultimately say truthfully that it has not changed him. While he consciously still regards his victims with detached indifference and rationalizes the action by thinking that he is used to doing much worse, and that the people he is doing it to probably deserve it anyways, he is in fact haunted by it more and more with every day he spends at the Carnival. Angoriel was originally convinced that all the creatures but angels were vile things indeed due to him having only seen those of them condemned to walk Urbaniel, but being at the Carnival and seeing more and more of the other species has taught him otherwise, and as his understanding of other beings deepens, so does the weight of the thousands of souls he has already collected. He has started having nightmares about the people he has branded, or in a few cases downright murdered, and his hesitation in doing what he must to fulfill his contract with Mr. Seil grows with every acquaintance and friendship he makes.
But while Angoriel can mostly convince himself that he does not care about those who fall prey to him, he cannot feign indifference towards the act of collection itself. His loathing toward treating souls like a commodity or a collectible, and of aiding a demon in doing so nonetheless, grows only stronger as time goes by and his regret of his own actions deepens.
Personality: Painful as such a cliché is to make, it remains a defining trait of Angoriel that he is inflicted with a terrible duality in his mind, and is driven by the benevolence of his angelic blood and the malevolence of his demon blood alike, and suffers from this internal conflict almost constantly. He often thinks long and hard before he speaks of acts, trying to sort through his instincts and emotions to learn whether he should act upon one of them or stick to being strictly rational and disregard the choice between purity and corruption altogether. This is often the case, and although he is an inwardly highly emotional person who is strongly affected by what others say and do - often in several different ways at once - he usually try to outwardly hide his feelings and the distress these cause him behind a facade of logic.
Although he is trapped between the influence of good and evil, Angoriel wants and tries to be a good person in many cases, and while he is hardly the sociable sort and never one to voluntarily join large groups of people, he enjoys talking to people whose presence he can actually tolerate and will go to great lengths to help those he considers deserving of such. He is easy to anger, however, and while he does not give in to his ire easily and almost always attempts to suppress his rage rather than give in to it, he becomes more and more impulsive and reckless the angrier he gets, and thus grows increasingly liable to turn to violence. He is a very patient man as long as someone is not doing something that Angoriel is particularly opposed to, however, so unless someone is intentionally trying to anger him or is doing something unusually cruel, his irritation will usually stay on manageable levels.
While he does not see eye-to-eye with all of the other people at the Carnival he does feel kinship with them due to their common bonds, and so he will often go out of his way to help or comfort even people he does not particularly like as long as he can even be in their presence at all without suffering major discomfort from this. He believes strongly in honor above all and admires people who act with honorable motives and cherishes innocence, but at the same time scorns weakness and naivety. Although he would not readily admit so to anyone he genuinely enjoys fighting, and finds it particularly exhilarating if his opponent seems to be stronger than himself.
One would think that when your father is one of the oldest and most powerful of the archangels and your mother is a primordial demon and nearly everyone else around you are only descendants of those who were your siblings that you would receive some kind of special treatment among your kin, that you would be regarded as superior somehow, as the prince that you really are, but alas, no such luck for a tartarus angel, for among the homeless angels who bear the demon blood within them there are no princes or peasants, no early or late generations, and never any special treatment; all are tartarus angels, brothers and sisters to each other and either strangers or enemies to all others. This was the only birthright Angoriel received when he came forth from his parents' unholy union as their umpteenth child, and was given to the care of his brethren immediately, never even knowing his parents' faces or voices. He was born, and then he was thrown into Urbaniel, to be trained as a soldier to serve Uriel as a keeper of the Underworld.
And this was the only life Angoriel ever came to know. He was trained as he grew up, never knowing a true childhood, and then he joined the ranks of his brethren in fighting demons and fallen angels, and in tormenting damned souls. It was a task that discouraged thinking and feeling, that pushed the self into obscurity and left only duty, which was probably why so little of note happened during this time. Angoriel could not even tell you if he spent five hundred years just fulfilling the task he had been given, or if it was actually a thousand years; keeping track of the days in Urbaniel was difficult in and by itself, shrouded in eternal darkness, and when each day is the same as the last, time loses all meaning. He never thought much about what he was doing back then, and never desired anything else, because this was the only life he knew.
The truly remarkable things that happened during this time of his life were few and easily recounted, and left memories sharper than any other in Angoriel's mind. His first unusual experience was when he was still in his youth, still convinced of his own invincibility and easily influenced by his greedy and spiteful demon-half, when he as many other tartarus angels had before tried to run away from his duty and escape his fate by fleeing into the lands beyond the borders of Urbaniel; Limblel. He had heard the tales of others who had tried and failed to make their way through this hazardous realm but had been convinced that he was the exception, that he could best the ever-changing nesting ground for nightmares when no one else could. Obviously he was wrong; barely had he crossed into Limblel before he realized just how much worse this realm was than Urbaniel. To this day he has been unable to recall what exactly happened back then, for all he remembers is flying back to his brethren, chilled to the bone and pale as a ghost, with his eternally morphing stone clutched in his hand. The cold fear that pierced his heart that day stayed with him ever since, and even now Angoriel is filled with intense dread at the very thought of going near Limblel.
The second notable step forward in Angoriel's life was doubtlessly the day he first heard tales of a demon who lived outside of Urbaniel, married to an angel, who lead an entire small army of misfits from all across the realms bound to his will through infernal contracts. "The Wish Master", they called him, supposedly capable of making any wish come true if one was to pay a price of servitude and souls. Although Angoriel's initial reaction was the same as that of his kin - namely the derision against those weak enough to rely on others felt by a person who has been brought up to thinking that you either live strong or die weak - the thought of the Wish Master stuck with him, tempting him, as it doubtlessly did many others if they heard such a story. Not that Angoriel ever thought that he might one day seek out the Wish Master and sign such a contract - he was a demon, after all, and thus the sworn enemy of his kind - but the idea of any wish potentially coming true was too enticing to simply put out of his mind.
And then, finally, came the day that derailed the life Angoriel had lived for monotonous centuries, for upon this day one of his elder sisters, one who was a dear friend of his, disappeared... and just several days later she returned, claimed wholly by corruption and given to the evil she had spent her entire life fighting. Seeing one of the few people in his life, and one he cherished nonetheless, having fallen despite only ever serving her purpose faithfully tore away the veil from his eyes and made him realize that this was the inevitable fate of his kind as long as they were bound to serve. How many of the demons and fallen angels they had fought, he wondered, were his own kin who had run out of time and succumbed to the taint of their blood and deeds?
This realization was what finally made Angoriel question his life, and like rings in the water the revelation spread through his awareness, sifting through his memories and making him see them all in a different light. Unlike most of his brethren Angoriel was not resolved to continue his duty for as long as he could; he would gladly give his life out of loyalty, but he could not accept sacrificing his purity for this vain task. He remembered the Wish Master then, and understood that now he finally had a wish that was worth servitude and souls to make come true; to save himself and his brethren from this gruesome destiny that was forced upon them from the moment of their conception. And he had been to Limblel and survived, as few of his kind could claim to have; he was confident that he could find the Wish Master.
So Angoriel deserted his duty and traversed the realms until he found Mr. Seil - or maybe Mr. Seil found him - and the contract was signed. As it turns out, it is much easier to forfeit one's freedom once one has realized that one has never been free. For fifty-six years now Angoriel has been with the De' Seil Carnival, collecting souls, performing as best he can and serving the Wish Master, but he has only just begun to serve the time he traded for the freedom of his family.
And this was the only life Angoriel ever came to know. He was trained as he grew up, never knowing a true childhood, and then he joined the ranks of his brethren in fighting demons and fallen angels, and in tormenting damned souls. It was a task that discouraged thinking and feeling, that pushed the self into obscurity and left only duty, which was probably why so little of note happened during this time. Angoriel could not even tell you if he spent five hundred years just fulfilling the task he had been given, or if it was actually a thousand years; keeping track of the days in Urbaniel was difficult in and by itself, shrouded in eternal darkness, and when each day is the same as the last, time loses all meaning. He never thought much about what he was doing back then, and never desired anything else, because this was the only life he knew.
The truly remarkable things that happened during this time of his life were few and easily recounted, and left memories sharper than any other in Angoriel's mind. His first unusual experience was when he was still in his youth, still convinced of his own invincibility and easily influenced by his greedy and spiteful demon-half, when he as many other tartarus angels had before tried to run away from his duty and escape his fate by fleeing into the lands beyond the borders of Urbaniel; Limblel. He had heard the tales of others who had tried and failed to make their way through this hazardous realm but had been convinced that he was the exception, that he could best the ever-changing nesting ground for nightmares when no one else could. Obviously he was wrong; barely had he crossed into Limblel before he realized just how much worse this realm was than Urbaniel. To this day he has been unable to recall what exactly happened back then, for all he remembers is flying back to his brethren, chilled to the bone and pale as a ghost, with his eternally morphing stone clutched in his hand. The cold fear that pierced his heart that day stayed with him ever since, and even now Angoriel is filled with intense dread at the very thought of going near Limblel.
The second notable step forward in Angoriel's life was doubtlessly the day he first heard tales of a demon who lived outside of Urbaniel, married to an angel, who lead an entire small army of misfits from all across the realms bound to his will through infernal contracts. "The Wish Master", they called him, supposedly capable of making any wish come true if one was to pay a price of servitude and souls. Although Angoriel's initial reaction was the same as that of his kin - namely the derision against those weak enough to rely on others felt by a person who has been brought up to thinking that you either live strong or die weak - the thought of the Wish Master stuck with him, tempting him, as it doubtlessly did many others if they heard such a story. Not that Angoriel ever thought that he might one day seek out the Wish Master and sign such a contract - he was a demon, after all, and thus the sworn enemy of his kind - but the idea of any wish potentially coming true was too enticing to simply put out of his mind.
And then, finally, came the day that derailed the life Angoriel had lived for monotonous centuries, for upon this day one of his elder sisters, one who was a dear friend of his, disappeared... and just several days later she returned, claimed wholly by corruption and given to the evil she had spent her entire life fighting. Seeing one of the few people in his life, and one he cherished nonetheless, having fallen despite only ever serving her purpose faithfully tore away the veil from his eyes and made him realize that this was the inevitable fate of his kind as long as they were bound to serve. How many of the demons and fallen angels they had fought, he wondered, were his own kin who had run out of time and succumbed to the taint of their blood and deeds?
This realization was what finally made Angoriel question his life, and like rings in the water the revelation spread through his awareness, sifting through his memories and making him see them all in a different light. Unlike most of his brethren Angoriel was not resolved to continue his duty for as long as he could; he would gladly give his life out of loyalty, but he could not accept sacrificing his purity for this vain task. He remembered the Wish Master then, and understood that now he finally had a wish that was worth servitude and souls to make come true; to save himself and his brethren from this gruesome destiny that was forced upon them from the moment of their conception. And he had been to Limblel and survived, as few of his kind could claim to have; he was confident that he could find the Wish Master.
So Angoriel deserted his duty and traversed the realms until he found Mr. Seil - or maybe Mr. Seil found him - and the contract was signed. As it turns out, it is much easier to forfeit one's freedom once one has realized that one has never been free. For fifty-six years now Angoriel has been with the De' Seil Carnival, collecting souls, performing as best he can and serving the Wish Master, but he has only just begun to serve the time he traded for the freedom of his family.
Sugary poison.
Angoriel's Relationship Chart
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ (◑/☠) ~
"A vile creature, that Reficul Seil... a demon who has captured an angel and makes her suffer the fate of being his wife is bad enough, but that is only the least of his sins, is it not? To have the power to accomplish anything yet only use such power for personal gain; to lure the greedy and gullible into his grasp with lofty promises only to take away their freedom and make them do abominable things; to collect souls as if they were coins, to hoard them, even, for whatever sinister purpose Seil needs them - these are his true crimes against the realms. Oh, what one of a pure heart could do with his power; surely accomplishing such a thing by itself would earn my brethren their freedom, would it not? How grand it would be to smite him and cleanse the realms of his taint, free those tricked into slavery and retrieve the countless souls that have been removed from their natural course. How I long to tear his head from his shoulders and pierce his heart with my hampol, so that I will never have to endure another moment of sickness due to the presence of his corruption.
But alas he is the Wish Master, and only as long as he lives may my wish come true. I will serve for as long as I must and do as my contract demands, but should ever an opportunity present itself to accomplish both, I think my honor would forgive betraying my contract to end his evil."
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ (◑) ~
"I cannot even begin to comprehend my true thoughts about this magnificent creature, if I am to be honest. I am not blind to her beauty, obviously, and her compassion for all things speaks to parts of myself that I deeply cherish. Her innocence and naivety both warms my angel-heart and heats my demon-blood, filling me with equal measures of desire to shelter and violate her... and all the while I cannot stand to be near her, or my stomach will churn and head pound with agony from the sheer intensity of her purity. I want nothing more than to save her, for her fate in being eternally bound to Seil is grim indeed; had I not been cursed with my demon-blood, I may even have desired her for myself. How she and Seil can stand being near one another I will never know.
I must keep my distance, even if part of me adores her, and thus I must detach myself, lest my pain be all the deeper from the loss of her nearness. Oh how I curse my mother's blood for making Rosaline's vicinity disagreeable... but it cannot be helped; it is how it is, and I must accept this. She belongs to the Wish Master, anyway, and I must not defy him. Another reason to hate this Carnival."
Andracos Soleviel ~ (☠) ~
"This foul beast can praise his luck that Seil forbids those bound to the Carnival to kill one another, or I would not bother making the effort to suppress my hatred of him. Such wickedness! Soleviel is easily as despicable as any demon or fallen angel I ever fought, that is for certain. The lives, emotions and well-being of others have no value to him, he enjoys humiliating and murdering, and gladly defiles that which is pure; he makes no secret of any of this, it seems. It is fortunate that I can excuse myself from his presence due to his corruption making me ill, or I dare not guess if I would be at all able to contain my wrath. It is curious, really; only with Soleviel have I observed my angel- and demon-halves reinforcing each other, as my angelic disgust of him feeds my demonic fury.
If ever I get the chance I have no doubt that I will kill this man; he is even worse than Seil himself, albeit his crimes are arguably of a smaller scale."
Vincent Nicolas ~ (◑) ~
"A fallen one has come upon the Carnival; I have yet to get to know him, but I can feel the rage embedded into my very soul churn at my awareness of his presence. How many like him have I killed? I do not even recall the number, nor can I remember their faces, for I never thought anything of dispatching their kind before. His fate is the one that would have awaited me, had I not escaped... or perhaps mine would have been even worse, and I would have become a scourge as vile as Soleviel.
I know not much, but I do know this: if he proves to be true to what I used to think of the fallen, he shall be my enemy here as his kind was in Urbaniel."
Arina Lécuyer ~ (♥/☠) ~
"Vile succubus! Enchanting creature... Immoral harlot! Alluring temptress... Dishonest trickster! Virtuous damsel... Cursed be this woman who has delved in this place longer than I, for I do not know whether I love to hate her or hate to love her. She confuses me like none other, even more than fair Rosaline, and I want to court her, ravish her and kill her. And in truth how could it be any other way? She is a beautiful woman, even with those infernal red locks, and her primal nature is much like my own at its core; an angel fused with the soul of a demon. I know in my heart that she manipulates and deceives, that she has no honor and is despicably slothful, but I also know that she is one person against whom I cannot seem to effectively guard myself. Her presence does not even feel as intolerable as that of other angels and demons... a small discomfort that part of me gladly suffers to subject itself to her seductive deceit.
I hate her! She must die! But I desire her, and cannot seem to resist the urge to vainly strive for her approval. Perhaps I would be better off simply avoiding her altogether and spare myself the pain... although with her, even the pain can be pleasurable."
Soren Novák ~ (☠) ~
"I am patient, Novák... very patient indeed. You have been at the Carnival for a very long time, serving Seil faithfully and with all the wickedness that befits your accursed kind, but I have only been here for little more than half a century of the millennium I have agreed to serve here. I will continue to be here for a very long time yet, little demon, and I know your kind; sooner or later you will want even more, and your ambition will finally urge you to break free from your bond with the Carnival, and believe this oath: the very minute you are no longer under the protection of the Wish Master, no amount of immortality or hardening of limbs will save you from my righteous fury.
If I am to be completely honest I probably cherish Novák in some way, but I would never admit that, least of all to myself. He is someone that I can hate unconditionally, and he is someone who is very powerful, a truly intriguing opponent to contemplate fighting. A clash between him and me would be a battle worthy of ballads and legend! Would I be strong enough to smite him despite his elusiveness and immortal durability? Would he be strong enough to slay me even through my skin and armor? Would I be able to catch him, and would he be able to escape my grasp if I did? Ah, what a glorious fight it would be, and a worthy death should I fall..."
Pachid Coyotas ~ (◑) ~
"A strange creature, this Coyotas... in and by himself I do not find him too disagreeable. I find his laziness and lack of honor lamentable, this is true, but he is not so bad for a vampire. Intelligent and observant, too; I think he would be a valuable ally to have on my side when the time comes for battle.
If only he was not so deeply loyal to that wretch, Soleviel..."
Reira Masin ~ (☺) ~
"Miss Masin... Reira. She is new to the Carnival, but already I like her. An attractive human woman, such a fragile creature, she is weak of body but strong in spirit; she is willing to betray her own morality for the sake of her beloved brother, to brand others for collection, yet fiercely holds on to her convictions. She is a kind soul through and through; I may have considered her kindness and naivety a flaw in anyone else, a weakness that they were pathetic for being unable to overcome, but she tempers her compassion with sheer determination. She is as good as any angel I ever knew, yet with the will to stoop into the darkness to protect that which she holds dear...
How will she ever collect so many souls in the short life of a human, especially when she refuses to brand anyone who has yet to pass their second decade? I will help her if I can, and protect her from the evil of the Carnival. And... this is one person that must never see my other self."
Stefan Bostock ~ (◑) ~
"The information broker... I do not care about him, in truth; not enough to hate him, at least. He is a despicable, treacherous little weasel, but I have no secrets for him to steal. And should he provoke my ire... really, he is no threat to me. He may be strong by human standards and be able to become incorporeal, but I am stronger; I need but to land a punch before he can dissipate, and my victory would be assured. His knives cannot hurt me effectively, and in my true form my mobility is even greater than his.
No, he is no threat to me, though he may be a threat to those close to me... but as long as he does not hurt them and continues to potentially be of use to me, I shall simply let him be. He is not even worthy of my disdain."
Ty ~ (◑) ~
"It is very interesting to observe an air elemental such as she, I think, and her countenance does provoke vile thoughts brought forth by my demon-blood. Her tongue is as sharp as her blades, though, and honor seems a concept entirely alien to her. It seems like she simply does not care... but I was there when she joined the Carnival, and have witnessed the change that has overcome her over these past eleven years. I still remember that wide-eyed little girl who marveled at the Carnival, who only wanted a place to belong; a desire I can relate to easily, I think. I cherish the memory of who she was, but I am not sure I like who she is becoming. Hopefully I can shield her a little from the darkness of Seil's contract that she may retain some of the person she once was.
I have known her for a long time and definitely count her as an ally, but I cannot help but to wonder if this will last. The darkness of the Carnival seeps into her soul... if only I could help her."
Imalia ~ (◑) ~
"Another one that I cannot fully comprehend, even though she came to the Carnival only several years after myself. Her personality seems erratic, somehow; when she does not know that she is being watched, she seems so much different from when she has company. But I both heard of and seen how she kills, and I must confess that I genuinely fear her. Not only will drowning end me even if she cannot pierce my skin, but I would never expect her to turn against me until after she had done so, and I never know if I act by my own free will around her or by her influence. And how my demonic side yearns to get more closely acquainted with that naked form of hers...
I cannot trust her, for I feel that doing so would be the end of me, but I cannot bring myself to treat her as an enemy either. I must be cautious; my skin may be tough and my power can protect me from flame, but to her abilities I am all but helpless. At least I can rest in the knowledge that should she ever prove an enemy, it would only take touching the glass of her tank to freeze the water in which she resides solid. She may be dangerous, but I have to remember that I am also dangerous to her."
Jing Lao ~ (◑) ~
"It is... a man? I find this inexplicably terrifying beyond anything else I have experienced since I left Urbaniel. He is new, so I do not know much about him yet, but from what I've seen thus far he seems like an agreeable sort, I think.
I would like to know him better, but... is it really a man? I am so confused... I think I prefer him as a spider."
Elynne Meidre ~ (◑) ~
"Dreadwraith... I had heard of such a thing before Meidre joined the Carnival, as far back as in my days as a warden of Urbaniel, but she is the first one I have actually encountered. I am not sure what to make of her, though... my instincts tell me to fear her, as I am all but defenseless against her abilities and would be powerless before her in battle, but some other part of me cannot help but to feel as though there is nothing to fear from her. She could kill me easily, certainly, and steal my strength for herself as old stories tell of her kind doing, but in lack of something more concrete all I can say is that I do not sense any harmful intent in her. And her wish to be free from her curse? Was that not a goal that was, at its core, similar to my own?
I do not think that she is an enemy, nor that she is liable to ever be one. I can only hope that she will be an ally, but thus far I simply cannot know."
Antoine ~ (◑) ~
"By all that is holy and unholy alike, I have never felt my blood running as hot as when I heard that we had been joined by the golden angelslayer himself, last of the Anterioria! My brethren fought many of his fellow demons in trying to stop them from leaving Urbaniel, and many of my brethren died in those battles, at least several that I know of by his hand before he went to fight the other angels. Oh, I have chills just thinking about him and what he has accomplished... I do not fear him, however; I admire his power and skill. He is a true warrior, one even greater than myself and one against whom it would be a tremendous honor to test my prowess against, even knowing that I would most likely lose, as he is said to be impervious to anti-demon weapons. At least I know that his flames, even if they are the dreaded Hellfire, cannot burn me, just as I know that I cannot freeze him.
I do not judge him by his past, however; I left the vanguard of Urbaniel when I came here, and all the tartarus angels he killed were before even my time. I wonder about him, though... for he does not seem like the monster we were told stories about by our elders. Why is he here? I am curious. Besides, if his mastery of fire is truly as great as his legend suggests, we could collaborate to make a glorious performance for the Carnival indeed."
Llewelyn Rorch ~ (◑) ~
"...Who? I have not heard of this man. Is he with the Carnival?"
Angoriel ~ (☠) ~
"Sadly I must confess that I hate myself and what I am; everything about myself, both my angel and demon halves, are an abomination. Did you know that my mother told me that my name means 'Angel of Pain'? Why must I suffer like this? Why must my fate be to one day fall and crawl in the filth with the other demons?
Ah, but I am who I am and must make the best of it... honestly I have no idea what to do with my freedom once I have it. I want to slay Seil and his minions, but I know that I do not have the power to do so. Maybe I will try... if for no other reason, then just because Seil can destroy me."
Sarah Hiddle ~ (♥/☺) ~
"Another angel, possibly the most beautiful in the Carnival, and so very young... and not so pure as to her presence being overly painful for me, either. Ah, I am much too old to covet a creature such as she, even if the demon in me desires to claim her anyways, against her will if necessary, but she is such a good and fair person. I have seen how the years here have affected her, and it pains me deeply... I want to help her, to protect and shield her.
Ah, if only I was not several times her age I might have truly desired to court her, but alas such a thing would be altogether unrealistic the way things are. The most I can be is her friend, it seems."
Jassessi ~ (◑) ~
"I, uh... I think that... I mean, she is... infuriating, quite frankly. But I guess she is rather... innocent? It is hard to keep up with her when she talks, as her words and thoughts run so much faster than my own, and she is so erratic that I cannot seem to fully grasp just why she does what she does. She seems so curious and helpful, but it seems like she gets in the way a lot. I do not think she truly realizes what happens here at the Carnival in the first place. She acts as though it is all fun and games, and not a hellish place filled with pain and darkness...
I am worried what Genvieve is convincing the naive little creature to do, though..."
Genie ~ (◑) ~
"Ahem... A werewolf girl, yes. I like werewolves. As for what she does at the Carnival, she... well, she and her so-called sisters, they are... eh... There were those of a similar profession in Urbaniel, and they were very popular, but we were forbidden to go near them. I... she... oh my.
I had better keep my distance from her and her sisters, lest my demon-blood ends up making me do something that I will regret later... and knowing her, I have no doubt that I would regret it dearly and for a very long time."
Robin ~ (◑) ~
"A creature unlike any I have seen before, this Robin; I have heard of necromancy, of course - I spent most of my life in Urbaniel after all, surrounded by all things dark and sinister - but Robin is different from most undead, somehow. I rather enjoy being around her most of the time, but I suspect that is only because she intentionally make her presence enjoyable. When I watch her conversing with others it seems as though she is a different person than she is when she chats with me... it is unnerving to say the least, and because I know that the version of her that I consider a pleasant companion is not the only one, I find it difficult to actually trust her. How can I, if she becomes someone completely dislikable to me when she speaks with someone else? What about when she speaks to Soleviel? Novák? Or even Seil?
I wonder if there even is a 'real' her, although maybe there actually is not; I do not know how the necromancy animating her works, so maybe she is incapable of anything but imitating those around her. She is neither ally nor enemy; she is simply another employee of the Carnival."
Jayce ~ (◑) ~
"Sometimes after I have encountered Jayce, more often without directly engaging him than when doing so, I find my thoughts occupied by him in private as I ponder his nature. It is one thing for him to be a cross of angel and demon like myself, albeit with some faerie mixed in there too, but for him to be so without suffering the same drawbacks that haunt me is what has me puzzled. Watching him I see that he possesses traits from either side of his legacy, yet they do not appear to conflict in him as they do in me, but rather find a natural middle ground. Perhaps his nature is similar to mine, only whereas my psyche has fragmented, his is fused, and as my true form has merged the opposites into one, his physical manifestation differs between natures. I have three parts to my consciousness - good, evil and rationality - just as he has pink, red and purple winged forms. Perhaps this man has the secret I need to find balance within myself? If I master the other elements, will I find peace in the Twilight, too?
He is not a bad person and occasionally worth a laugh, but I think I may envy him. For him to have roots that run so close to mine, yet be lighthearted while mine is heavy with the burden of my blood... part of me loathes him for this. It seems that he is quite taken with Ty, too; maybe he can add shed some light upon the darkness seeping into her soul."
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ (◑/☠) ~
"A vile creature, that Reficul Seil... a demon who has captured an angel and makes her suffer the fate of being his wife is bad enough, but that is only the least of his sins, is it not? To have the power to accomplish anything yet only use such power for personal gain; to lure the greedy and gullible into his grasp with lofty promises only to take away their freedom and make them do abominable things; to collect souls as if they were coins, to hoard them, even, for whatever sinister purpose Seil needs them - these are his true crimes against the realms. Oh, what one of a pure heart could do with his power; surely accomplishing such a thing by itself would earn my brethren their freedom, would it not? How grand it would be to smite him and cleanse the realms of his taint, free those tricked into slavery and retrieve the countless souls that have been removed from their natural course. How I long to tear his head from his shoulders and pierce his heart with my hampol, so that I will never have to endure another moment of sickness due to the presence of his corruption.
But alas he is the Wish Master, and only as long as he lives may my wish come true. I will serve for as long as I must and do as my contract demands, but should ever an opportunity present itself to accomplish both, I think my honor would forgive betraying my contract to end his evil."
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ (◑) ~
"I cannot even begin to comprehend my true thoughts about this magnificent creature, if I am to be honest. I am not blind to her beauty, obviously, and her compassion for all things speaks to parts of myself that I deeply cherish. Her innocence and naivety both warms my angel-heart and heats my demon-blood, filling me with equal measures of desire to shelter and violate her... and all the while I cannot stand to be near her, or my stomach will churn and head pound with agony from the sheer intensity of her purity. I want nothing more than to save her, for her fate in being eternally bound to Seil is grim indeed; had I not been cursed with my demon-blood, I may even have desired her for myself. How she and Seil can stand being near one another I will never know.
I must keep my distance, even if part of me adores her, and thus I must detach myself, lest my pain be all the deeper from the loss of her nearness. Oh how I curse my mother's blood for making Rosaline's vicinity disagreeable... but it cannot be helped; it is how it is, and I must accept this. She belongs to the Wish Master, anyway, and I must not defy him. Another reason to hate this Carnival."
Andracos Soleviel ~ (☠) ~
"This foul beast can praise his luck that Seil forbids those bound to the Carnival to kill one another, or I would not bother making the effort to suppress my hatred of him. Such wickedness! Soleviel is easily as despicable as any demon or fallen angel I ever fought, that is for certain. The lives, emotions and well-being of others have no value to him, he enjoys humiliating and murdering, and gladly defiles that which is pure; he makes no secret of any of this, it seems. It is fortunate that I can excuse myself from his presence due to his corruption making me ill, or I dare not guess if I would be at all able to contain my wrath. It is curious, really; only with Soleviel have I observed my angel- and demon-halves reinforcing each other, as my angelic disgust of him feeds my demonic fury.
If ever I get the chance I have no doubt that I will kill this man; he is even worse than Seil himself, albeit his crimes are arguably of a smaller scale."
Vincent Nicolas ~ (◑) ~
"A fallen one has come upon the Carnival; I have yet to get to know him, but I can feel the rage embedded into my very soul churn at my awareness of his presence. How many like him have I killed? I do not even recall the number, nor can I remember their faces, for I never thought anything of dispatching their kind before. His fate is the one that would have awaited me, had I not escaped... or perhaps mine would have been even worse, and I would have become a scourge as vile as Soleviel.
I know not much, but I do know this: if he proves to be true to what I used to think of the fallen, he shall be my enemy here as his kind was in Urbaniel."
Arina Lécuyer ~ (♥/☠) ~
"Vile succubus! Enchanting creature... Immoral harlot! Alluring temptress... Dishonest trickster! Virtuous damsel... Cursed be this woman who has delved in this place longer than I, for I do not know whether I love to hate her or hate to love her. She confuses me like none other, even more than fair Rosaline, and I want to court her, ravish her and kill her. And in truth how could it be any other way? She is a beautiful woman, even with those infernal red locks, and her primal nature is much like my own at its core; an angel fused with the soul of a demon. I know in my heart that she manipulates and deceives, that she has no honor and is despicably slothful, but I also know that she is one person against whom I cannot seem to effectively guard myself. Her presence does not even feel as intolerable as that of other angels and demons... a small discomfort that part of me gladly suffers to subject itself to her seductive deceit.
I hate her! She must die! But I desire her, and cannot seem to resist the urge to vainly strive for her approval. Perhaps I would be better off simply avoiding her altogether and spare myself the pain... although with her, even the pain can be pleasurable."
Soren Novák ~ (☠) ~
"I am patient, Novák... very patient indeed. You have been at the Carnival for a very long time, serving Seil faithfully and with all the wickedness that befits your accursed kind, but I have only been here for little more than half a century of the millennium I have agreed to serve here. I will continue to be here for a very long time yet, little demon, and I know your kind; sooner or later you will want even more, and your ambition will finally urge you to break free from your bond with the Carnival, and believe this oath: the very minute you are no longer under the protection of the Wish Master, no amount of immortality or hardening of limbs will save you from my righteous fury.
If I am to be completely honest I probably cherish Novák in some way, but I would never admit that, least of all to myself. He is someone that I can hate unconditionally, and he is someone who is very powerful, a truly intriguing opponent to contemplate fighting. A clash between him and me would be a battle worthy of ballads and legend! Would I be strong enough to smite him despite his elusiveness and immortal durability? Would he be strong enough to slay me even through my skin and armor? Would I be able to catch him, and would he be able to escape my grasp if I did? Ah, what a glorious fight it would be, and a worthy death should I fall..."
Pachid Coyotas ~ (◑) ~
"A strange creature, this Coyotas... in and by himself I do not find him too disagreeable. I find his laziness and lack of honor lamentable, this is true, but he is not so bad for a vampire. Intelligent and observant, too; I think he would be a valuable ally to have on my side when the time comes for battle.
If only he was not so deeply loyal to that wretch, Soleviel..."
Reira Masin ~ (☺) ~
"Miss Masin... Reira. She is new to the Carnival, but already I like her. An attractive human woman, such a fragile creature, she is weak of body but strong in spirit; she is willing to betray her own morality for the sake of her beloved brother, to brand others for collection, yet fiercely holds on to her convictions. She is a kind soul through and through; I may have considered her kindness and naivety a flaw in anyone else, a weakness that they were pathetic for being unable to overcome, but she tempers her compassion with sheer determination. She is as good as any angel I ever knew, yet with the will to stoop into the darkness to protect that which she holds dear...
How will she ever collect so many souls in the short life of a human, especially when she refuses to brand anyone who has yet to pass their second decade? I will help her if I can, and protect her from the evil of the Carnival. And... this is one person that must never see my other self."
Stefan Bostock ~ (◑) ~
"The information broker... I do not care about him, in truth; not enough to hate him, at least. He is a despicable, treacherous little weasel, but I have no secrets for him to steal. And should he provoke my ire... really, he is no threat to me. He may be strong by human standards and be able to become incorporeal, but I am stronger; I need but to land a punch before he can dissipate, and my victory would be assured. His knives cannot hurt me effectively, and in my true form my mobility is even greater than his.
No, he is no threat to me, though he may be a threat to those close to me... but as long as he does not hurt them and continues to potentially be of use to me, I shall simply let him be. He is not even worthy of my disdain."
Ty ~ (◑) ~
"It is very interesting to observe an air elemental such as she, I think, and her countenance does provoke vile thoughts brought forth by my demon-blood. Her tongue is as sharp as her blades, though, and honor seems a concept entirely alien to her. It seems like she simply does not care... but I was there when she joined the Carnival, and have witnessed the change that has overcome her over these past eleven years. I still remember that wide-eyed little girl who marveled at the Carnival, who only wanted a place to belong; a desire I can relate to easily, I think. I cherish the memory of who she was, but I am not sure I like who she is becoming. Hopefully I can shield her a little from the darkness of Seil's contract that she may retain some of the person she once was.
I have known her for a long time and definitely count her as an ally, but I cannot help but to wonder if this will last. The darkness of the Carnival seeps into her soul... if only I could help her."
Imalia ~ (◑) ~
"Another one that I cannot fully comprehend, even though she came to the Carnival only several years after myself. Her personality seems erratic, somehow; when she does not know that she is being watched, she seems so much different from when she has company. But I both heard of and seen how she kills, and I must confess that I genuinely fear her. Not only will drowning end me even if she cannot pierce my skin, but I would never expect her to turn against me until after she had done so, and I never know if I act by my own free will around her or by her influence. And how my demonic side yearns to get more closely acquainted with that naked form of hers...
I cannot trust her, for I feel that doing so would be the end of me, but I cannot bring myself to treat her as an enemy either. I must be cautious; my skin may be tough and my power can protect me from flame, but to her abilities I am all but helpless. At least I can rest in the knowledge that should she ever prove an enemy, it would only take touching the glass of her tank to freeze the water in which she resides solid. She may be dangerous, but I have to remember that I am also dangerous to her."
Jing Lao ~ (◑) ~
"It is... a man? I find this inexplicably terrifying beyond anything else I have experienced since I left Urbaniel. He is new, so I do not know much about him yet, but from what I've seen thus far he seems like an agreeable sort, I think.
I would like to know him better, but... is it really a man? I am so confused... I think I prefer him as a spider."
Elynne Meidre ~ (◑) ~
"Dreadwraith... I had heard of such a thing before Meidre joined the Carnival, as far back as in my days as a warden of Urbaniel, but she is the first one I have actually encountered. I am not sure what to make of her, though... my instincts tell me to fear her, as I am all but defenseless against her abilities and would be powerless before her in battle, but some other part of me cannot help but to feel as though there is nothing to fear from her. She could kill me easily, certainly, and steal my strength for herself as old stories tell of her kind doing, but in lack of something more concrete all I can say is that I do not sense any harmful intent in her. And her wish to be free from her curse? Was that not a goal that was, at its core, similar to my own?
I do not think that she is an enemy, nor that she is liable to ever be one. I can only hope that she will be an ally, but thus far I simply cannot know."
Antoine ~ (◑) ~
"By all that is holy and unholy alike, I have never felt my blood running as hot as when I heard that we had been joined by the golden angelslayer himself, last of the Anterioria! My brethren fought many of his fellow demons in trying to stop them from leaving Urbaniel, and many of my brethren died in those battles, at least several that I know of by his hand before he went to fight the other angels. Oh, I have chills just thinking about him and what he has accomplished... I do not fear him, however; I admire his power and skill. He is a true warrior, one even greater than myself and one against whom it would be a tremendous honor to test my prowess against, even knowing that I would most likely lose, as he is said to be impervious to anti-demon weapons. At least I know that his flames, even if they are the dreaded Hellfire, cannot burn me, just as I know that I cannot freeze him.
I do not judge him by his past, however; I left the vanguard of Urbaniel when I came here, and all the tartarus angels he killed were before even my time. I wonder about him, though... for he does not seem like the monster we were told stories about by our elders. Why is he here? I am curious. Besides, if his mastery of fire is truly as great as his legend suggests, we could collaborate to make a glorious performance for the Carnival indeed."
Llewelyn Rorch ~ (◑) ~
"...Who? I have not heard of this man. Is he with the Carnival?"
Angoriel ~ (☠) ~
"Sadly I must confess that I hate myself and what I am; everything about myself, both my angel and demon halves, are an abomination. Did you know that my mother told me that my name means 'Angel of Pain'? Why must I suffer like this? Why must my fate be to one day fall and crawl in the filth with the other demons?
Ah, but I am who I am and must make the best of it... honestly I have no idea what to do with my freedom once I have it. I want to slay Seil and his minions, but I know that I do not have the power to do so. Maybe I will try... if for no other reason, then just because Seil can destroy me."
Sarah Hiddle ~ (♥/☺) ~
"Another angel, possibly the most beautiful in the Carnival, and so very young... and not so pure as to her presence being overly painful for me, either. Ah, I am much too old to covet a creature such as she, even if the demon in me desires to claim her anyways, against her will if necessary, but she is such a good and fair person. I have seen how the years here have affected her, and it pains me deeply... I want to help her, to protect and shield her.
Ah, if only I was not several times her age I might have truly desired to court her, but alas such a thing would be altogether unrealistic the way things are. The most I can be is her friend, it seems."
Jassessi ~ (◑) ~
"I, uh... I think that... I mean, she is... infuriating, quite frankly. But I guess she is rather... innocent? It is hard to keep up with her when she talks, as her words and thoughts run so much faster than my own, and she is so erratic that I cannot seem to fully grasp just why she does what she does. She seems so curious and helpful, but it seems like she gets in the way a lot. I do not think she truly realizes what happens here at the Carnival in the first place. She acts as though it is all fun and games, and not a hellish place filled with pain and darkness...
I am worried what Genvieve is convincing the naive little creature to do, though..."
Genie ~ (◑) ~
"Ahem... A werewolf girl, yes. I like werewolves. As for what she does at the Carnival, she... well, she and her so-called sisters, they are... eh... There were those of a similar profession in Urbaniel, and they were very popular, but we were forbidden to go near them. I... she... oh my.
I had better keep my distance from her and her sisters, lest my demon-blood ends up making me do something that I will regret later... and knowing her, I have no doubt that I would regret it dearly and for a very long time."
Robin ~ (◑) ~
"A creature unlike any I have seen before, this Robin; I have heard of necromancy, of course - I spent most of my life in Urbaniel after all, surrounded by all things dark and sinister - but Robin is different from most undead, somehow. I rather enjoy being around her most of the time, but I suspect that is only because she intentionally make her presence enjoyable. When I watch her conversing with others it seems as though she is a different person than she is when she chats with me... it is unnerving to say the least, and because I know that the version of her that I consider a pleasant companion is not the only one, I find it difficult to actually trust her. How can I, if she becomes someone completely dislikable to me when she speaks with someone else? What about when she speaks to Soleviel? Novák? Or even Seil?
I wonder if there even is a 'real' her, although maybe there actually is not; I do not know how the necromancy animating her works, so maybe she is incapable of anything but imitating those around her. She is neither ally nor enemy; she is simply another employee of the Carnival."
Jayce ~ (◑) ~
"Sometimes after I have encountered Jayce, more often without directly engaging him than when doing so, I find my thoughts occupied by him in private as I ponder his nature. It is one thing for him to be a cross of angel and demon like myself, albeit with some faerie mixed in there too, but for him to be so without suffering the same drawbacks that haunt me is what has me puzzled. Watching him I see that he possesses traits from either side of his legacy, yet they do not appear to conflict in him as they do in me, but rather find a natural middle ground. Perhaps his nature is similar to mine, only whereas my psyche has fragmented, his is fused, and as my true form has merged the opposites into one, his physical manifestation differs between natures. I have three parts to my consciousness - good, evil and rationality - just as he has pink, red and purple winged forms. Perhaps this man has the secret I need to find balance within myself? If I master the other elements, will I find peace in the Twilight, too?
He is not a bad person and occasionally worth a laugh, but I think I may envy him. For him to have roots that run so close to mine, yet be lighthearted while mine is heavy with the burden of my blood... part of me loathes him for this. It seems that he is quite taken with Ty, too; maybe he can add shed some light upon the darkness seeping into her soul."
Shienvien Creator and Destroyer
Member
Seen
25 days ago
Name(self-given): Elynne Meidre
Alternatively, she goes by Eliine Meidre - the exact name she gives may vary a bit depending on the general characteristics of the native language of the person she is currently speaking to.
Sex/gender: Female/woman...
Age: Looks to be somewhere in her early twenties. In actuality she has existed as a dreadwraith for close to three hundred years, thirty-seven of which in partial freedom.
Creature type: Specter
Neither fully immaterial apparitions nor mundane heavy-footed mortals, they tread between the two and can act akin to and mingle with either.
Species: Dreadwraith
They are not evil by nature - and for the most part hold no distinct perceptible feel of either good or evil, for they, like most specters, are inherently neither corrupt or pure -, but dreadwraiths come into existence already cursed, obligatorily feeding upon the strength of other beings, bound to target one after another not unlike a terminal illness, taking a hold of and draining without choice or free will in the matter ... unless set free by a person who happens to know how to.
If set free, they can finally live as they wish, and either choose to abstain from or continue tapping into their powers - and perhaps even succeed in refining them as they desire, not as their inherent curse had once dictated. Else, slowly but surely each victim will weaken day after day and finally die, unable to hide or flee from the next visit as the tormentor will follow and seep through cracks and keyholes, with the victim being further plagued by the dread emotions, fleeting illusions and horror those specters can - and commonly do - project upon their targets.
About the dreadwraiths' curse:
It seems to be a common assumption that the curse takes the form of a constant urge, the yearning to sap life from beings, but this is but a misconception. While extreme weakening might make a dreadwraith feel the instinctive temptation of draining whomever is available nearby as the fastest and most reliable way of regaining one's strength (as opposed to eating food, which takes both a lot longer time to have an effect and initially actually takes energy for breaking the consumed substance down to components before it starts giving anything back), the dreadwraiths' curse itself does nothing of the kind.
The curse itself takes the form of a waking dream wherein the conscious mind of the dreadwraith is but a passive observer, if not less than even that. It feels not unlike a nightmare wherein one can see what one does and have thoughts over what is happening, but in no way influence the happenings or alter which actions the one's body performs.
Elynne's personal curse has been partially broken - she no longer exists within the curse, but it still remains in a semi-dormant form, now contained within her instead of it containing her. She has to focus daily - nigh constantly - to ensure it stays at bay and will not reawaken fully and engulf her again. Some things appear to rouse it, such as the presence of the weak and dieing... If the curse were but an urge, it would be easy to restrain it, for her mind is strong, but with something of this kind of mysteriously sly and hard-to-define nature, it is much harder.
She must not forget; she must not relent; she must not grow careless and relax too far.
Appearance:
Elynne's one and only actual defined appearance is that of a tall, thin, pale human woman, much like her kind and her kind's closest cousins are wont to have.
[[WILL ADD A SKETCH SOON]]
She stands at 6'1'', but due to her narrow frame and borderline unnaturally straight - if not almost stiff-looking - posture, she tends to appear even taller than that; she habitually moves in long, measured, somehow gliding strides which only barely remove her feet from the surface she traverses, with the motion of her legs barely changing along with her speed. A leisurely stroll or movement twice as fast as the average person's walk - there is no discernible variation in the movement besides the speed at which it occurs before she actually starts to run, and even then her usual gait barely breaks. She moves with an almost unnatural quietness; even in absolute silence one has to strain one's ears to discern her footfalls, and even then one may not hear those unless she runs. A human might never; a being of much keener hearing is more likely to.
She is indeed thin - to an extent where it would border unhealthy for a human woman -, and for some unknown reason the appearance of her face seems to be the most affected. As such the outlines of her cheekbones, straight, narrow nose and jaw are especially sharply defined, half-accentuating the fine structure of her face, half harshly reminding people that there is little but a rather thin layer of skin and minuscule muscles covering the skull of humanoid beings. One could nevertheless almost call the overall look of her face - elongated in shape - beautiful, but then it would be a kind of hard, refined, almost regal kind of beauty.
Her lips are pale and thin against an even paler - an almost snowlike white - complexion, her eyebrows are light brown with a mild arch to them, and her hair is very light tone of ashen blond, straight, and falls down past her tailbone in a thick, smooth layer. Her eyes, in turn, are a kind of tone between gray and blue - water-gray, the color is sometimes called. Her gaze usually tends to have a slightly melancholic feel to it, befitting of the stormcloud coloration. She can smile, though, and often does, in performance and otherwise, and her smile is charming; it is actually crying her face has never been subjected to, despite what the melancholy look in her eyes might suggest.
Elynne's shoulders leave very square impression, and her ribs are very clearly defined under the skin of her torso; she has just enough of a bosom to not look completely flat-chested, but her breasts are modest at most. Her rather narrow waistline - another result of the thinness of her frame -, however, combined with the relatively wider ribcage and hips, give her a rather easily identifiable feminine hourglass-figure, even when she is viewed from distance, especially in relative darkness, where her paleness stands out.
Her legs are sleek, and her upper arms appear about as thin as her lower arms. What little flesh there is upon her body appears to almost all be lean muscle rather than soft bolstering of easily-yielding fat. There is indeed very little amenability to her physical body, and her smooth skin seems to always be cool - not outright cold, but definitely much cooler than would be normal for human.
Her movements nigh always seem measured and calm, thought out, but much like a snake can suddenly strike out after a long time of barely perceptible inching forward, Elynne's slender, long-fingered hand can abruptly dart forward with unfailing accuracy at any time and grasp a hold of something, and it takes but a blink of an eye for her to launch into motion from complete standstill.
Unless she is wearing something else - which she prefers to do - she can be seen wearing a long white dress (see belongings), and if that is the occasion, she usually walks barefoot. Often, and especially these days, she can be seen wearing a wooden amulet around her neck.
When she is using her powers to get past physical obstacles or move faster, her visage may very briefly appear - in the lack of a better descriptor - almost foglike, even if the shape of the form is retained as much as the available space allows.
Powers, noteworthy abilities and unusual qualities:
Rather than just the more commonly used abilities being listed, each and every ability or trait which would not be expected from a human woman of similar proportions has been noted down. Here you can both see how far her powers can potentially take her, and also have the utmost limits of her abilities laid bare to avoid possible future misunderstandings.
Summary:
Ability to obtain temporary partial ethereality - or perhaps "fluidity" would describe it better? - to seep through even relatively small openings and move over complex or soft terrain or up steep risings at full running speed, or for example dodge incoming attacks and escape a hostile grasp; ability to slowly drain people of their strength while maintaining physical contact (it takes several hours for a formerly rested and energetic person to start feeling exhausted and unmotivated, and the draining can only occur when she is physically touching or inhabiting the person), but also slowly give them strength through the reverse of this process; ability to induce and mold nightmares in sleeping people (and cause people who are awake see fleeting illusory wisps in the corners of their vision) and cast sensations of terror, dread, fear, pain and hopelessness upon people; ability to inhabit objects and living bodies alike and very limited ability to possess people she inhabits (not likely to work at all with anyone who is at least partially awake and/or conscious); complete immunity to cold and enhanced resiliency to physical damage and mind control abilities, also notably more significant physical strength than her appearance would suggest.
She also never sleeps - she is in actuality no less than completely incapable of sleeping altogether -, cannot fall unconscious, does not require air to survive, and has the ability to tell how good a person's physical and mental state are, as well as can unmistakably track down all individuals she has ever drained strength from, though distinguishing them from one another is a whole different matter.
Elaboration:
This section details the exact extent and limitations of her powers, as well as the effects using each them has on her.
Most of the time, she is as solid and material as any human woman would be, but at will, this can change, and she can become largely - but never completely! - ethereal. It is this state that allows her to pass through any opening that is at least the size of a keyhole (but not fully solid barriers), to evade attacks directed at her or escape an ill-wishing hold, to be unhindered by terrain that would make any fully material humanoid stumble, get caught in foliage or sink in knee deep to the soft, yielding soil ... she can even run over water in this state (though stopping for more than a second would nevertheless make her sink into the water, getting back out of which still requires reaching something solid and climbing out), or scale completely vertical surfaces (albeit once more, speed has to be maintained while she does it or she'll fall off), or leap nearly two meters into the air.
She, however, cannot move any faster than what her full running speed in completely material form would be in her more ethereal version, and passing through openings that are very small tends to take some time and leave her more vulnerable than usual while she is at it - it appears that she takes approximately as long as an amount of water equal to her body volume would take to flow through an opening of the same size, indicating that she actually has limitations on how much of her can fit through at once, and how fast. In fact, if someone were to try to run a hand through her semi-ethereal form, one would still feel resistance not too unlike that of a heavy, dry liquid, such as quicksilver. She herself can still manipulate physical objects when ethereal if she so desires, but it requires a hefty amount of concentration.
Also, although her more ethereal manifestation can stretch in manners vastly unnatural to get through minuscule openings, she remains in one piece at all times, and retains her general volume. She cannot become notably smaller or bigger (except in cases of inhabitance), or separate herself into several pieces. Should she be cut into several parts by another, it would - depending on the size of the smaller portion cut off - equal to anything from being just lightly hurt to truly grievous, even fatal injury. And while a punch is likely do no harm, a damaging spell, a blade or bullet rapidly passing through is wont to somewhat harm even the more ethereal form. The damage is dampened to about a fifth of what it would be if her fully material manifestation were to be hit in a similar manner.
Being partially ethereal in this manner for short periods appears to have little to no detrimental effect on her, but if she maintains the ethereality for longer durations, it becomes apparent that it tends to spend her reserves rather quickly - almost as if in this state, minuscule amounts of her essence are constantly escaping her and vanishing off into the surroundings, dispersing like vapor to wind. It should also be noted that she cannot drain while in her more ethereal state - she must either touch the subject while completely material or inhabit them to do so.
Her ability to drain people of their energy is native to the dreadwraith-kind; it is how they most naturally sustain themselves. It is indeed a fairly slow process - usually a dreadwraith would wait until a person has fallen asleep, then seep in, inhabit the body of the sleeping victim, and stay for the duration of the night, leaving once they can feel the person starting to wake, only to return the next evening. Like that, with the person having a day in between to somewhat recuperate, it usually takes them a couple of weeks - sometimes two months or more, even - to end an average formerly healthy adult human.
A stronger body tends to take longer to deplete, a weak one tends to run out of reserves quicker - as could be expected, with a weak body having less to spare to begin with. How much exactly a dreadwraith can take per unit of time depends very heavily on the strength of not the person's body, but their mind. A submissive, hopeless person with no desire to fight their fate and others' control - even if at full health in the beginning - may take just a handful of days to deplete, whereas a dominant, determined person who will never give up no matter what the circumstances may last for months even when they start out already physically frail and sickly. Such is the power of the mind.
The species and nature of the one drained has fairly little effect on how successfully they can be drained - all other factors seem to be drowned out by the variable of mental strength -, but it can be generally concluded that the more supernatural the being, the easier they are to leech energy from. An exception to this would be the ethereal, or those who tread between the ethereal and material - specters, ghosts, spirits, wraiths, and their likes. There are about as hard to drain from as mundane mortals, and since they do not sleep or periodically lose their awareness of their surroundings otherwise, perhaps even harder in practice.
The effects of the dreadwaith draining mostly (though it may somewhat vary from one type of creature to another) resemble some combination of sleep deprivation and malnutrition with fatigue and lack of energy becoming particularly exaggerated, and are typically fully reversible - should the dreadwraith stop routinely draining the one, the body will most likely slowly return to its usual health. Being drained just once or twice will take an average person just two or three days of reduced exertion to recover fully from.
Interestingly enough, dreadwraiths can actually also do the opposite of draining people, and give them strength and energy (while weakening themselves; the most notable immediate effect of the weakening would be an acute sense of cold, made particularly notable by the fact that actual cold is something specterkind neither feel nor are harmed by). Much like the effects of draining, the results of this giving may not seem very significant immediately. Nevertheless, over time such giving may be enough to let a person recover from an illness or injury or survive a prolonged hardship they otherwise would have succumbed to. Small things add up.
It is, however, not the ability to drain people - through perhaps terrifying by its own right may it be - that gives dreadwraiths their name. It is the ability to produce the kind of nightmares that seem to go bone deep and stay in people's minds even once they have dispersed, nightmares that make them fear falling back to sleep and which are especially hard to wake from once one is engulfed in them. Indeed, even people who typically just wake with a start from disturbing dreams most likely will find themselves stuck in those.
There is but one limit to this ability - a person must fall asleep and start dreaming before a dreadwraith can contort a dream and mold it into a thing of true terror. If to try to cast a nightmare upon a person who is still awake, the effect will mostly fall short - an awake individual will only see fleeting shadows that prove to not be there when one focuses on them, things darting at them from the corners of their eyes, only to vanish the moment one turns one's head to look at them, a wavering of air or a blurring of a darkening spot on a ground, a flicker of surreal alien scenery - no more than the fleeting phantasms akin to those of deep sleep deprivation or high fever. Not enough to cause unparalleled terror by itself, though in a dire situation demanding reaction and accuracy - such as a fight - even such mirages could prove dangerously, if not potentially fatally, distracting.
What is almost always possible to do is projecting pure feelings of dread, terror, hopelessness, loss, pain, sheer senseless fear and panic... Such sensations are much more raw and primitive in nature than realistic nightmares, and thusly are much easier to produce even in awake people. And while both feelings and nightmares are usually generated internally, a nightmare in an awake person would have to compete against various sensory input, whereas feelings ... feelings do not. Any individual who opts to fight a dreadwraith is bound to know the true meaning of terror.
- It has been speculated that the abilities developed in dreadwraiths in order to help wear the mind down and reduce the fight in it. It has, after all, been established that a body whose mind has given up on resisting makes an easy prey. As for what toll such abilities take on a dreadwraith oneself, then it does not appear to have any more severe consequences than any other activity which requires keen conscious attention and concentration. She has to focus to project nightmares and dread emotions, and the target must be within a handful of meters and not encased in an integral obstacle - such as the solid walls of a building - for the powers to have their full effect.
Another, often perhaps somewhat exaggerated - and thusly overly feared - power of dreadwraiths and most other specters is that of inhabitance. Contrary to common belief, inhabitance by itself does not equal possession, but is merely the ability to first enter and then exist within the same area of space as an object or - as is perhaps even more common with dreadwraiths - being (and it must always be a whole object, and never something that lies in several pieces, though in the latter case she can inhabit one piece out of the many). Of objects she can only inhabit those which are not significantly smaller than she is, whereas any any higher being can be inhabited. Should the inhabited be a being that is both conscious and awake, there exists a fair chance that, should the mind of the inhabited be powerful and determined enough, she could be expelled by them at will with some effort.
She cannot manipulate any non-living object she inhabits in the slightest, but in rare cases, she may be able to seize control of a being's body, in which case the inhabitance becomes an actual possession. The criteria for her being able to possess a being are indeed strict; may it be said at once that with anyone who is both conscious and awake, it is in practice nigh impossible. Namely, there are only two occasions where she might be able to commandeer an inhabited body: the person must either be unconscious (or vegetable, or so freshly dead that their body has not managed to notably decay yet) or alternatively have their minds stuck in dreams while their body has already woken up. The first is self-explanatory - she can take the lead when the conscious mind has ceased to function -, the other may need an explanation.
- A dreaming person is not unconscious; though people often insist the opposite, this is but a misconception. The consciousness, in fact, experiences everything in dreams, though through a filter of surreality. The consciousness also tells the body to perform every action that is performed in the dream, but the body won't comply, not fully at least, for there is a lock in place that would not let the consciousness' commands be forwarded to muscles (should one wake in the night and find oneself unable to move, this is why: the "lock" did not successfully switch off ... sleep-talking and -walking, in return, occurs when the "lock" was insufficient).
The same lock that keeps people in their beds while their dream-selves run free is also what prevents the dreadwraiths - and many other spirits and specters - from seizing control. Should the body be roused and the lock go off while the conscious mind is still encased in the dreadwraith's nightmare (and those nightmares, as established, tend to be exceptionally hard to wake from), however... Then, then the specter is in control. It usually only happens when some bystander tries to very vigorously wake the inhabited one. One may not want to try to wake a person inhabited by a dreadwraith, should one not be certain in the specter's good will...
Dreadwraiths are typically not too reckless with the lent bodies, however, and tend to pick the objects they inhabit carefully: while the injuries and damage present before the inhabitance have no effect on them, the damage sustained by the body during the inhabitance will still cause at least some harm to the specter. (In some extreme cases, intentionally harming the inhabited one has been somewhat successfully used to try and drive them out for this day.)
It should perhaps be also noted that curiously enough, a specter can only exit the someone or something she currently inhabits or possesses in the reverse of the way she entered - the power of inhabitance (or possession) does not allow her to get through obstacles she otherwise cannot get past.
Other than those, she has a number of traits which all relate to her being either a specter or dreadwraith more specifically. For one, she is completely immune to cold, no matter how crisp... While fire, though she ironically finds it beautiful and loves its heat, can harm her just as easily as it would a human, cold ... cold is no threat to her. It is, after all, during the deepest and coldest months of winter, when all the spirits of nature lie dormant and in hiding, that the specterkind become the most active, with even the most fleeting of them emerging and taking over the barren realms.
The same, she as a specter is highly resistant to mind-manipulation, be it a siren's allure or a witch's illusion spell ... after all, many a specter and spirit can contort the mind, and such they have evolved to be quite hardy against such dangers. What a messy place the domain of specters and spirits would be if they had as powerful effect on one another as they tend to have on mortals both magical and mundane...
...She who used to mostly target those who sleep herself never sleeps, for she cannot. Neither a specter nor spirit shall ever have a dreams of her own, even if few of them can enter others'. She will forever be awake and aware. Nor will she ever fall unconscious... It appears that a specter or spirit can either have one's mind fully functional, or succumb to death right away. Perhaps their bodies cannot exist without consciousness? And indeed, as soon as they fall unconscious they are dispersing, and verily dead.
Her fully material form will however breathe, for it mimics the body of a human woman even if she technically does not require air in the same manner mortals do, but in the ethereal form or state of inhabitance she seems to neglect to perform the action that comes so naturally for most living. Where would there be air to intake within an object or another's body?
Lastly, beware of specters' and spirits' deceptive strength. Often lithe and frail they look, but nevertheless they can leave a blackened bruises on a man's arm by just grabbing a hold and gripping tight. Elynne's no different in that regard; a human would barely be a match for her strength, although supernatural beings - such as demons, werewolves and vampires - often are notably stronger than she is.
As a dreadwraith, she tends to be very good at gauging others' mental and physical health. She cannot read emotions any more than a human could, but prolonged stress and depression she can pick up on. She can also quickly read into the strength of others' willpower, as well as detect how dominant or submissive they tend to be. Similarly, she would not realize there is a fresh cut in someone's leg unless she sees it, but general poor health, chronic illness, general deterioration, being near death? That can be instinctively sensed.
She also invariably knows where anyone she ever drained from is ... although the knowledge is limited to purely direction and distance. She would not know the environment they are in, nor be able to distinguish one such individual from another by the sense alone. They all feel exactly the same, so she can only try tracking by keeping constant tabs on which direction a specific marker has moved and is going since she saw the person face-to-face.
Personal residence:
If one were to enter her cart - which is not all that likely to happen, since she has never invited any visitors - one might perhaps be shocked to discover that unlike the often spacious and heavily personalized contents of the residences of many of the carnival-workers, hers still only contains a simple bed, kitchen and bathroom, all seemingly never used. The only addition she has introduced are heavy, thick dark blue curtains, plain and meant to be able to block both light and anyone from looking in more than anything else. If anyone were to ever ask, she would tell it is not a home, but a place for her to retreat, should she ever be chased away from everywhere else; since she does not sleep or fear cold, she will normally never retract to the dwelling assigned to her, but rather wander about on the carnival grounds when idle, regardless of temperature, rain, snow, or winds.
Significant/Special belongings:
Elynne has scant few personal belongings, let alone objects that are significant and special. All in all, there are only three objects in her possession she considers meaningful, and would not part from without a second thought, but holds close and dear.
- The first is a garment, a long white dress, a part of her and haunting reminder of what she is.
- The second is a talisman, a wooden amulet, a memento and dear gift from a long-time friend.
- The third is a weapon, a metal sword, a token and solid promise to herself for times to come.
Fighting skills/techniques:
Elynne has the same set of qualities and abilities as any dreadwraith, and hence has adjusted her preferred fighting techniques to match with it. Dreadwraiths are not naturally tailored for quick fights; they are typically fairly slow, but utterly relentless and underailable killers. They are not warriors by nature; they are far more akin to chronic terminal illnesses. They may retreat every now and then, but without fail they will return, and without question or doubt finish the jobs they started.
- If Elynne does not need to finish an opponent off a once, she is bound to do what a dreadwraith usually does: follow, watch, wait, project dread emotions, approach, inhabit, taint dreams, drain, retreat, repeat. Relentlessly repeat as the other slowly succumbs in both body and mind and until the one finally meets their demise. It is a slow and cruel way of killing someone, but also a tried, tested, and dreadfully guaranteed way of doing it. ...It is only so long an individual's mind can endure a constant barrage of heavy emotions and nightmares coupled with a following without escape and relentless attacks each time they lose alertness or nod off, and a body which is never allowed to properly recuperate but always loses energy is bound to last for a limited time.
Should she be drawn into a confrontation she does not necessarily want to end in a death (just yet) or just want to drive someone off, chances are she would not resort to dishing out physical harm or leeching, but just solely focus on her ability to induce extremely powerful negative feelings and emotions and fleeting phantasms. Such is usually more than sufficient to put an abrupt stop to a person continuing to do what she saw as warranting such reaction, or at the very least distract them enough to make them ineffective in their endeavors. ...Halting them and making them try to focus on her, if not convincing them to abandon their intentions altogether for the time being, and thusly allowing anyone she might have chosen to aid with her intervention to back out of the situation. She herself will, on those occasions, end the encounter with backing out the same.
More traditional fights, however, fights of she kind she wants to yield fatal results at once... Those are almost a form of art. Much as with the long-winded approach, she will rely heavily on wearing her opponent out, and much like with the bloodless confrontations, she makes heavy use of her power to induce feelings of dread and despair. She will dance, she will dodge, she will break focus and the casting of spells with overwhelming waves of crippling emotion... She does not require sleep, but the opponent usually does, and she does not tire quite in the same manner mortals to - her opponent will be weary and sluggish where she will remain fresh. She will dart close to drain with but a touch, only to evade a counterattack with the elegance of fog in wind. Or perhaps she will inhabit and force the person to try to fight their own feelings and drive her out at once? She will not hesitate to use a blade or firearm; a weaker enemy may have a punch thrown in their way... Drown an opponent, trip them, or collapse a construct on them - if possible, it may be done. In a fight to death, all methods are permitted.
Weapon of choice:
Herself, all the powers in her possession included. Once it has been completed, Spirit of Sword is bound to become a permanent part of her arsenal. In general she will also never shy away from using anything she can use to her benefit in a fight to the death, be it blades, firearms, blunt weaponry or anything else.
Job title & description:
The Vanishing Woman ||| Walker of Walls and Water
She can hide behind an inch-thick pole! She can disappear before your eyes, but beware, should you turn your head, there she shall be, behind your very back! Behold, it is she who can tread across water! She who can walk upon cobwebs and run up a wall as if it were a floor like the one you stand upon! She who cannot be restrained!
- Her acts heavily utilize her ethereal form, and her entire tent is rigged in a manner that allows her to take the most of it. The floor is about two inches elevated from the ground, and the floorboards rest upon a metal grid; the poles holding up the tent are hollow pipes, and the walls are all in two layers of fabric. The exact set she uses varies from performance to performance - more variation for both herself and the repeated audience -, but it typically involves a number of seemingly non-scalable vertical constructs, boxes she gets into but never climbs out of, poles, supports that should never be able to carry a human, sometimes an assistant to bind her up or try to "harm" her, and a part of the stage is typically a fillable pool. She also tends to go through several outfits during each performance, and while he normally never wears any kind of makeup, she will try to keep such on her face (not all that easy to accomplish when she goes ethereal) for the duration of being on stage, if only to make herself appear somewhat less unhealthily gaunt for the audience.
Often enough, she lets members of the audience come over and inspect her equipment for themselves - only to discover that there indeed are no secret hatches or some such trickery, and no one the size of a human could possibly fit through. To reinforce her seemingly human looks, she will every now and then also hold out a hand for people to touch it, quite unlike her typical aversion of physical contact. ...Not only does touch ascertain the spectators that she is truly a material being (while allowing inspection of this kind), but such voluntary closeness makes branding much easier.
Number of souls she has to collect: 100'000
Number of years she has to collect souls: 1000
What was her wish?
To gain full choice and live free of the fear of accidentally hurting those who do not deserve it and worse - be free from the danger of falling back within the curse entirely and resuming the day-by-day merciless killing without having any say in it. ...To not carry the curse within and fight in the name of keeping it contained each day, to nevermore have to constantly fear what she herself might do if her control of the currently-pacified curse slips without her ever having the chance to even try to stop herself. The remnants of the inherent curse still residing within her must go.
How many souls has she collected? 874
(874 before the start of the IC, 0 after)
How long has she been at the Carnival? Seven years and nine days.
(Of which zero days after the start of the IC)
How the collection of souls has affected her?
She knew what she was getting into; she had weighed the act and all of its consequences with meticulous care before she signed the bargain. She knew she would be marking innocent and rotten souls alike for a wicked devil to later claim them, but by then she had also already resolved to eventually end Mr. Seil's endeavors for good. Before then, there were three more things she definitely had to do...
One of those was the completion of the Spirit of Sword, for which she did not need or agree to any infernal aid, another was the finding of potential allies - and would these grounds not attract at least some thinkalikes? -, and the third was the purging of the remnants of her inherent curse, something she could not do anything against herself. The only option she had seen would have been to stop resisting and let the curse engulf her again, and then let someone conduct the releasing properly... But what if the curse would pick not the intended releaser, but someone else of the many she had drained from over time? What if they, intended releaser or not, would fail the releasing and succumb to her, slowly wane away before her eyes like so many before? And how many more would die before she was put a stop to again?
Ironic as it was, a bargain with Mr. Seil seemed like the safer option for everyone involved. And with this option, there was at least the possibility of her undoing any further harm she would cause - whereas for those she had killed she could do little for. It was not an uninformed decision. There simply had not been a better, surer way.
Make no mistake; she wholeheartedly detests the collection of souls and all it entails. It is only for the time being that she puts up with and partakes in it, and even then she will at least attempt to choose those who do something to come across as unlikable in her presence, provided she is not behind of her schedule with the soul quotas. If anything, the activity has only strengthened her determination and resolve to end Mr. Seil's reign. Before she could have walked away with just the knowledge of letting the horrid deals fester on chewing on her consciousness, but now she carries within a moral debt that she sees as binding ... a moral dept that only the release of the souls would erase. Killing Mr. Seil had stopped being an intention and become a duty when the first soul was handed in.
She just has to be patient and handle things properly, or else she would see no victory.
Personality:
At first look, she comes across rather calm and perhaps even sedate, never one to raise voice or make snide remarks, however there is fierce determination in her, and uncanny unyieldingness of the kind that is not commonly seen in people. She will barely ever argue or contest, but she also would nigh never back down or surrender. She seems polite and nice, often helpful, and appears to know how to make clear she disagrees without inciting an argument or ill feelings towards her when she so desires. That is not to say she cannot kill without the slightest hesitation, the slightly melancholic look in her eyes never wavering, or that she would not judge people and assign them sentences she sees fit according to her own understandings and morals.
It should, however, be noted that to a great extent, her morals have remained influenced by the way of thinking commonly found in various spirits and specters rather than adapting to mortals' moral standards. As such she could not care less for modesty, and would not as much as raise an eyebrow if someone opted to proudly display all of their physical assets, nor care about how many partners one had had... She abhors killing for entertainment and pleasure, but will not think any worse of a person who snapped another's neck just because they happened to be standing on their personal spot, and will not shy away from an individual just because they have killed aplenty in the past. Many things which the average person finds disturbing or odd in others, she merely considers interesting or unusual.
There is no hierarchy amongst spirits, specters, wraiths, ghosts, and their likes, and thusly she tends to treat everyone the same - always with respect, but never as though they were any higher or lower than she is. Just a bit different, perhaps... Like the individuals they are, rather than status signs. Relatedly, she tends to heavily dislike when people go around demanding different treatment just because they have some position or another.
Arrogance is a thoroughly pointless trait; one either can or cannot, state the first if you are confident in your abilities, and from then on let your deeds speak for themselves. Resolution is valued over indecision, inaction is considered silent agreement, and weakness - mental weakness and vulnerability more specifically - is scorned whenever it surfaces. In the world of her likes, the weak are destined to be wiped out; such is the natural course.
She deeply respects individual space and sanctity of others' possessions, and will typically abstain from physical contact unless the other has expressly stated that it is allowed - both because it is personal, and because by contact is how she drains, and hence she commonly expects people who know what she is to want to avoid touching her. She is always truthful about what she is, should people of the carnival ask; truth is a value in itself, and if one does not want to reveal how things truly are, one should rather remain forever silent. From her past experiences with mortals, she also tends to expect that others fear her, or at least be apprehensive towards her kind.
As for personal space and belongings... Many spirits, specters, wraiths and ghosts guard their possessions and respective areas very ... keenly. So keenly, in fact, that should one cross their sole right to those things and take something without being gifted, traded or lent it (and the recipient better hand the lent objects back, or they will pay dearly!), one can easily find oneself cursed, hexed, dying of persistent illness or treading unknown paths till dropping dead from exhaustion or thirst. Or, in rare cases, simply promptly killed - drowned, neck snapped ... often enough, the death will look like an accident. Dreadwraiths themselves are not location-bound, and hence Elynne has no particular sense of ownership towards her assigned carriage, even if she, out of respect towards others, still does not enter the residences of people that are not her targets without being permitted to. She, however, does care about her scant few dear objects ... almost as much as spirits typically do.
Aside of killing for entertainment and fun - something that spirits of nature consider disrupting of balance -, and arrogance and lack of respect towards others' belongings, she predominantly holds strong feelings towards imposing one's will on others, owning and controlling them. Sure, she herself tampers with minds, too, but she only lets the people experience sensations, rather than seizing control over them... No one owns anyone, and none should. Each belongs to oneself only. (Even skinwalkers do not really own the bodies they possess; they just ... lend them for a bit. Or so they say. If there is one type of ethereal beings Elynne is a bit in-between about, it would be the skinwalkers.)
- She is uncertain whether this belief is so powerful because of the culture of spirits and specters or because she herself was forced to do things she did not want to for so long by her curse. You see, the fact that her kind naturally killed slowly left plenty of time for her to learn to know some of those people her curse had picked as her targets well ... and horrifyingly enough, she ended up liking many of them. It was much like killing one's friends, if ... very one-sided friends. She herself was always only seen as a monster and misfortune. And how could she not be?
Hence, while she may go to extreme lengths to help people in the endeavors she approves of and try to support them at almost all costs whenever possible, she will never make a significant effort to make a person reconsider, or force someone to alter their values or change sides. She will find out what they intend and are and ... that is that. Their decision. Their choice. Not hers.
She likes to converse with people, find out what they are like, what their beliefs and opinions are, what they aspire, what they may think of an idea or another ... also support and help them, if she approves of them. She will typically speak in a soft, quiet voice, either unfazed and perhaps ever so slightly melancholic, or contrastingly distinctly happy, but seemingly never anything else. Unless it is positive reaction, it seems that she simply is not all that emotive. One can however conclude it is a matter of sparseness of facial expressions rather than lack of emotions. Her talks also may come as a bit unusual every now and then ... perhaps remnants of the aforementioned spiritkind's culture.
She, however, also tends to stay away from crowds wherever possible - especially if people are packed so densely that it may result in accidental physical contact. Hence, she mostly only approaches people when she discovers them alone, or mostly alone. Despite her aversion of large conglomerations of people she ... has been feeling somewhat lonely, especially now that she is not surrounded by spiritkind as much as she used to be.
What else is there to say about her ways? When she is not performing or quietly talking to a person or another she has seen fit to approach for the time being, she usually wanders about on the festival grounds, seldom asking permission to leave the area to seek out her own likes or do some unknown business. Often, she seems to be almost meditative, focused on keeping the remnants of her inherent curse in their current state.
sugary poison
Alternatively, she goes by Eliine Meidre - the exact name she gives may vary a bit depending on the general characteristics of the native language of the person she is currently speaking to.Sex/gender: Female/woman...
Age: Looks to be somewhere in her early twenties. In actuality she has existed as a dreadwraith for close to three hundred years, thirty-seven of which in partial freedom.
Creature type: Specter
Neither fully immaterial apparitions nor mundane heavy-footed mortals, they tread between the two and can act akin to and mingle with either.Species: Dreadwraith
They are not evil by nature - and for the most part hold no distinct perceptible feel of either good or evil, for they, like most specters, are inherently neither corrupt or pure -, but dreadwraiths come into existence already cursed, obligatorily feeding upon the strength of other beings, bound to target one after another not unlike a terminal illness, taking a hold of and draining without choice or free will in the matter ... unless set free by a person who happens to know how to. If set free, they can finally live as they wish, and either choose to abstain from or continue tapping into their powers - and perhaps even succeed in refining them as they desire, not as their inherent curse had once dictated. Else, slowly but surely each victim will weaken day after day and finally die, unable to hide or flee from the next visit as the tormentor will follow and seep through cracks and keyholes, with the victim being further plagued by the dread emotions, fleeting illusions and horror those specters can - and commonly do - project upon their targets.About the dreadwraiths' curse:
It seems to be a common assumption that the curse takes the form of a constant urge, the yearning to sap life from beings, but this is but a misconception. While extreme weakening might make a dreadwraith feel the instinctive temptation of draining whomever is available nearby as the fastest and most reliable way of regaining one's strength (as opposed to eating food, which takes both a lot longer time to have an effect and initially actually takes energy for breaking the consumed substance down to components before it starts giving anything back), the dreadwraiths' curse itself does nothing of the kind. The curse itself takes the form of a waking dream wherein the conscious mind of the dreadwraith is but a passive observer, if not less than even that. It feels not unlike a nightmare wherein one can see what one does and have thoughts over what is happening, but in no way influence the happenings or alter which actions the one's body performs. Elynne's personal curse has been partially broken - she no longer exists within the curse, but it still remains in a semi-dormant form, now contained within her instead of it containing her. She has to focus daily - nigh constantly - to ensure it stays at bay and will not reawaken fully and engulf her again. Some things appear to rouse it, such as the presence of the weak and dieing... If the curse were but an urge, it would be easy to restrain it, for her mind is strong, but with something of this kind of mysteriously sly and hard-to-define nature, it is much harder. She must not forget; she must not relent; she must not grow careless and relax too far.Appearance:
Elynne's one and only actual defined appearance is that of a tall, thin, pale human woman, much like her kind and her kind's closest cousins are wont to have. [[WILL ADD A SKETCH SOON]]
She stands at 6'1'', but due to her narrow frame and borderline unnaturally straight - if not almost stiff-looking - posture, she tends to appear even taller than that; she habitually moves in long, measured, somehow gliding strides which only barely remove her feet from the surface she traverses, with the motion of her legs barely changing along with her speed. A leisurely stroll or movement twice as fast as the average person's walk - there is no discernible variation in the movement besides the speed at which it occurs before she actually starts to run, and even then her usual gait barely breaks. She moves with an almost unnatural quietness; even in absolute silence one has to strain one's ears to discern her footfalls, and even then one may not hear those unless she runs. A human might never; a being of much keener hearing is more likely to. She is indeed thin - to an extent where it would border unhealthy for a human woman -, and for some unknown reason the appearance of her face seems to be the most affected. As such the outlines of her cheekbones, straight, narrow nose and jaw are especially sharply defined, half-accentuating the fine structure of her face, half harshly reminding people that there is little but a rather thin layer of skin and minuscule muscles covering the skull of humanoid beings. One could nevertheless almost call the overall look of her face - elongated in shape - beautiful, but then it would be a kind of hard, refined, almost regal kind of beauty. Her lips are pale and thin against an even paler - an almost snowlike white - complexion, her eyebrows are light brown with a mild arch to them, and her hair is very light tone of ashen blond, straight, and falls down past her tailbone in a thick, smooth layer. Her eyes, in turn, are a kind of tone between gray and blue - water-gray, the color is sometimes called. Her gaze usually tends to have a slightly melancholic feel to it, befitting of the stormcloud coloration. She can smile, though, and often does, in performance and otherwise, and her smile is charming; it is actually crying her face has never been subjected to, despite what the melancholy look in her eyes might suggest.Elynne's shoulders leave very square impression, and her ribs are very clearly defined under the skin of her torso; she has just enough of a bosom to not look completely flat-chested, but her breasts are modest at most. Her rather narrow waistline - another result of the thinness of her frame -, however, combined with the relatively wider ribcage and hips, give her a rather easily identifiable feminine hourglass-figure, even when she is viewed from distance, especially in relative darkness, where her paleness stands out. Her legs are sleek, and her upper arms appear about as thin as her lower arms. What little flesh there is upon her body appears to almost all be lean muscle rather than soft bolstering of easily-yielding fat. There is indeed very little amenability to her physical body, and her smooth skin seems to always be cool - not outright cold, but definitely much cooler than would be normal for human. Her movements nigh always seem measured and calm, thought out, but much like a snake can suddenly strike out after a long time of barely perceptible inching forward, Elynne's slender, long-fingered hand can abruptly dart forward with unfailing accuracy at any time and grasp a hold of something, and it takes but a blink of an eye for her to launch into motion from complete standstill. Unless she is wearing something else - which she prefers to do - she can be seen wearing a long white dress (see belongings), and if that is the occasion, she usually walks barefoot. Often, and especially these days, she can be seen wearing a wooden amulet around her neck. When she is using her powers to get past physical obstacles or move faster, her visage may very briefly appear - in the lack of a better descriptor - almost foglike, even if the shape of the form is retained as much as the available space allows.
Powers, noteworthy abilities and unusual qualities:
Rather than just the more commonly used abilities being listed, each and every ability or trait which would not be expected from a human woman of similar proportions has been noted down. Here you can both see how far her powers can potentially take her, and also have the utmost limits of her abilities laid bare to avoid possible future misunderstandings. Summary:
Ability to obtain temporary partial ethereality - or perhaps "fluidity" would describe it better? - to seep through even relatively small openings and move over complex or soft terrain or up steep risings at full running speed, or for example dodge incoming attacks and escape a hostile grasp; ability to slowly drain people of their strength while maintaining physical contact (it takes several hours for a formerly rested and energetic person to start feeling exhausted and unmotivated, and the draining can only occur when she is physically touching or inhabiting the person), but also slowly give them strength through the reverse of this process; ability to induce and mold nightmares in sleeping people (and cause people who are awake see fleeting illusory wisps in the corners of their vision) and cast sensations of terror, dread, fear, pain and hopelessness upon people; ability to inhabit objects and living bodies alike and very limited ability to possess people she inhabits (not likely to work at all with anyone who is at least partially awake and/or conscious); complete immunity to cold and enhanced resiliency to physical damage and mind control abilities, also notably more significant physical strength than her appearance would suggest.She also never sleeps - she is in actuality no less than completely incapable of sleeping altogether -, cannot fall unconscious, does not require air to survive, and has the ability to tell how good a person's physical and mental state are, as well as can unmistakably track down all individuals she has ever drained strength from, though distinguishing them from one another is a whole different matter.Elaboration:
This section details the exact extent and limitations of her powers, as well as the effects using each them has on her. Most of the time, she is as solid and material as any human woman would be, but at will, this can change, and she can become largely - but never completely! - ethereal. It is this state that allows her to pass through any opening that is at least the size of a keyhole (but not fully solid barriers), to evade attacks directed at her or escape an ill-wishing hold, to be unhindered by terrain that would make any fully material humanoid stumble, get caught in foliage or sink in knee deep to the soft, yielding soil ... she can even run over water in this state (though stopping for more than a second would nevertheless make her sink into the water, getting back out of which still requires reaching something solid and climbing out), or scale completely vertical surfaces (albeit once more, speed has to be maintained while she does it or she'll fall off), or leap nearly two meters into the air. She, however, cannot move any faster than what her full running speed in completely material form would be in her more ethereal version, and passing through openings that are very small tends to take some time and leave her more vulnerable than usual while she is at it - it appears that she takes approximately as long as an amount of water equal to her body volume would take to flow through an opening of the same size, indicating that she actually has limitations on how much of her can fit through at once, and how fast. In fact, if someone were to try to run a hand through her semi-ethereal form, one would still feel resistance not too unlike that of a heavy, dry liquid, such as quicksilver. She herself can still manipulate physical objects when ethereal if she so desires, but it requires a hefty amount of concentration.Also, although her more ethereal manifestation can stretch in manners vastly unnatural to get through minuscule openings, she remains in one piece at all times, and retains her general volume. She cannot become notably smaller or bigger (except in cases of inhabitance), or separate herself into several pieces. Should she be cut into several parts by another, it would - depending on the size of the smaller portion cut off - equal to anything from being just lightly hurt to truly grievous, even fatal injury. And while a punch is likely do no harm, a damaging spell, a blade or bullet rapidly passing through is wont to somewhat harm even the more ethereal form. The damage is dampened to about a fifth of what it would be if her fully material manifestation were to be hit in a similar manner. Being partially ethereal in this manner for short periods appears to have little to no detrimental effect on her, but if she maintains the ethereality for longer durations, it becomes apparent that it tends to spend her reserves rather quickly - almost as if in this state, minuscule amounts of her essence are constantly escaping her and vanishing off into the surroundings, dispersing like vapor to wind. It should also be noted that she cannot drain while in her more ethereal state - she must either touch the subject while completely material or inhabit them to do so.Her ability to drain people of their energy is native to the dreadwraith-kind; it is how they most naturally sustain themselves. It is indeed a fairly slow process - usually a dreadwraith would wait until a person has fallen asleep, then seep in, inhabit the body of the sleeping victim, and stay for the duration of the night, leaving once they can feel the person starting to wake, only to return the next evening. Like that, with the person having a day in between to somewhat recuperate, it usually takes them a couple of weeks - sometimes two months or more, even - to end an average formerly healthy adult human. A stronger body tends to take longer to deplete, a weak one tends to run out of reserves quicker - as could be expected, with a weak body having less to spare to begin with. How much exactly a dreadwraith can take per unit of time depends very heavily on the strength of not the person's body, but their mind. A submissive, hopeless person with no desire to fight their fate and others' control - even if at full health in the beginning - may take just a handful of days to deplete, whereas a dominant, determined person who will never give up no matter what the circumstances may last for months even when they start out already physically frail and sickly. Such is the power of the mind.The species and nature of the one drained has fairly little effect on how successfully they can be drained - all other factors seem to be drowned out by the variable of mental strength -, but it can be generally concluded that the more supernatural the being, the easier they are to leech energy from. An exception to this would be the ethereal, or those who tread between the ethereal and material - specters, ghosts, spirits, wraiths, and their likes. There are about as hard to drain from as mundane mortals, and since they do not sleep or periodically lose their awareness of their surroundings otherwise, perhaps even harder in practice. The effects of the dreadwaith draining mostly (though it may somewhat vary from one type of creature to another) resemble some combination of sleep deprivation and malnutrition with fatigue and lack of energy becoming particularly exaggerated, and are typically fully reversible - should the dreadwraith stop routinely draining the one, the body will most likely slowly return to its usual health. Being drained just once or twice will take an average person just two or three days of reduced exertion to recover fully from.Interestingly enough, dreadwraiths can actually also do the opposite of draining people, and give them strength and energy (while weakening themselves; the most notable immediate effect of the weakening would be an acute sense of cold, made particularly notable by the fact that actual cold is something specterkind neither feel nor are harmed by). Much like the effects of draining, the results of this giving may not seem very significant immediately. Nevertheless, over time such giving may be enough to let a person recover from an illness or injury or survive a prolonged hardship they otherwise would have succumbed to. Small things add up.It is, however, not the ability to drain people - through perhaps terrifying by its own right may it be - that gives dreadwraiths their name. It is the ability to produce the kind of nightmares that seem to go bone deep and stay in people's minds even once they have dispersed, nightmares that make them fear falling back to sleep and which are especially hard to wake from once one is engulfed in them. Indeed, even people who typically just wake with a start from disturbing dreams most likely will find themselves stuck in those. There is but one limit to this ability - a person must fall asleep and start dreaming before a dreadwraith can contort a dream and mold it into a thing of true terror. If to try to cast a nightmare upon a person who is still awake, the effect will mostly fall short - an awake individual will only see fleeting shadows that prove to not be there when one focuses on them, things darting at them from the corners of their eyes, only to vanish the moment one turns one's head to look at them, a wavering of air or a blurring of a darkening spot on a ground, a flicker of surreal alien scenery - no more than the fleeting phantasms akin to those of deep sleep deprivation or high fever. Not enough to cause unparalleled terror by itself, though in a dire situation demanding reaction and accuracy - such as a fight - even such mirages could prove dangerously, if not potentially fatally, distracting.What is almost always possible to do is projecting pure feelings of dread, terror, hopelessness, loss, pain, sheer senseless fear and panic... Such sensations are much more raw and primitive in nature than realistic nightmares, and thusly are much easier to produce even in awake people. And while both feelings and nightmares are usually generated internally, a nightmare in an awake person would have to compete against various sensory input, whereas feelings ... feelings do not. Any individual who opts to fight a dreadwraith is bound to know the true meaning of terror. - It has been speculated that the abilities developed in dreadwraiths in order to help wear the mind down and reduce the fight in it. It has, after all, been established that a body whose mind has given up on resisting makes an easy prey. As for what toll such abilities take on a dreadwraith oneself, then it does not appear to have any more severe consequences than any other activity which requires keen conscious attention and concentration. She has to focus to project nightmares and dread emotions, and the target must be within a handful of meters and not encased in an integral obstacle - such as the solid walls of a building - for the powers to have their full effect. Another, often perhaps somewhat exaggerated - and thusly overly feared - power of dreadwraiths and most other specters is that of inhabitance. Contrary to common belief, inhabitance by itself does not equal possession, but is merely the ability to first enter and then exist within the same area of space as an object or - as is perhaps even more common with dreadwraiths - being (and it must always be a whole object, and never something that lies in several pieces, though in the latter case she can inhabit one piece out of the many). Of objects she can only inhabit those which are not significantly smaller than she is, whereas any any higher being can be inhabited. Should the inhabited be a being that is both conscious and awake, there exists a fair chance that, should the mind of the inhabited be powerful and determined enough, she could be expelled by them at will with some effort. She cannot manipulate any non-living object she inhabits in the slightest, but in rare cases, she may be able to seize control of a being's body, in which case the inhabitance becomes an actual possession. The criteria for her being able to possess a being are indeed strict; may it be said at once that with anyone who is both conscious and awake, it is in practice nigh impossible. Namely, there are only two occasions where she might be able to commandeer an inhabited body: the person must either be unconscious (or vegetable, or so freshly dead that their body has not managed to notably decay yet) or alternatively have their minds stuck in dreams while their body has already woken up. The first is self-explanatory - she can take the lead when the conscious mind has ceased to function -, the other may need an explanation. - A dreaming person is not unconscious; though people often insist the opposite, this is but a misconception. The consciousness, in fact, experiences everything in dreams, though through a filter of surreality. The consciousness also tells the body to perform every action that is performed in the dream, but the body won't comply, not fully at least, for there is a lock in place that would not let the consciousness' commands be forwarded to muscles (should one wake in the night and find oneself unable to move, this is why: the "lock" did not successfully switch off ... sleep-talking and -walking, in return, occurs when the "lock" was insufficient).The same lock that keeps people in their beds while their dream-selves run free is also what prevents the dreadwraiths - and many other spirits and specters - from seizing control. Should the body be roused and the lock go off while the conscious mind is still encased in the dreadwraith's nightmare (and those nightmares, as established, tend to be exceptionally hard to wake from), however... Then, then the specter is in control. It usually only happens when some bystander tries to very vigorously wake the inhabited one. One may not want to try to wake a person inhabited by a dreadwraith, should one not be certain in the specter's good will... Dreadwraiths are typically not too reckless with the lent bodies, however, and tend to pick the objects they inhabit carefully: while the injuries and damage present before the inhabitance have no effect on them, the damage sustained by the body during the inhabitance will still cause at least some harm to the specter. (In some extreme cases, intentionally harming the inhabited one has been somewhat successfully used to try and drive them out for this day.)It should perhaps be also noted that curiously enough, a specter can only exit the someone or something she currently inhabits or possesses in the reverse of the way she entered - the power of inhabitance (or possession) does not allow her to get through obstacles she otherwise cannot get past. Other than those, she has a number of traits which all relate to her being either a specter or dreadwraith more specifically. For one, she is completely immune to cold, no matter how crisp... While fire, though she ironically finds it beautiful and loves its heat, can harm her just as easily as it would a human, cold ... cold is no threat to her. It is, after all, during the deepest and coldest months of winter, when all the spirits of nature lie dormant and in hiding, that the specterkind become the most active, with even the most fleeting of them emerging and taking over the barren realms.The same, she as a specter is highly resistant to mind-manipulation, be it a siren's allure or a witch's illusion spell ... after all, many a specter and spirit can contort the mind, and such they have evolved to be quite hardy against such dangers. What a messy place the domain of specters and spirits would be if they had as powerful effect on one another as they tend to have on mortals both magical and mundane......She who used to mostly target those who sleep herself never sleeps, for she cannot. Neither a specter nor spirit shall ever have a dreams of her own, even if few of them can enter others'. She will forever be awake and aware. Nor will she ever fall unconscious... It appears that a specter or spirit can either have one's mind fully functional, or succumb to death right away. Perhaps their bodies cannot exist without consciousness? And indeed, as soon as they fall unconscious they are dispersing, and verily dead. Her fully material form will however breathe, for it mimics the body of a human woman even if she technically does not require air in the same manner mortals do, but in the ethereal form or state of inhabitance she seems to neglect to perform the action that comes so naturally for most living. Where would there be air to intake within an object or another's body?Lastly, beware of specters' and spirits' deceptive strength. Often lithe and frail they look, but nevertheless they can leave a blackened bruises on a man's arm by just grabbing a hold and gripping tight. Elynne's no different in that regard; a human would barely be a match for her strength, although supernatural beings - such as demons, werewolves and vampires - often are notably stronger than she is. As a dreadwraith, she tends to be very good at gauging others' mental and physical health. She cannot read emotions any more than a human could, but prolonged stress and depression she can pick up on. She can also quickly read into the strength of others' willpower, as well as detect how dominant or submissive they tend to be. Similarly, she would not realize there is a fresh cut in someone's leg unless she sees it, but general poor health, chronic illness, general deterioration, being near death? That can be instinctively sensed. She also invariably knows where anyone she ever drained from is ... although the knowledge is limited to purely direction and distance. She would not know the environment they are in, nor be able to distinguish one such individual from another by the sense alone. They all feel exactly the same, so she can only try tracking by keeping constant tabs on which direction a specific marker has moved and is going since she saw the person face-to-face.Personal residence:
If one were to enter her cart - which is not all that likely to happen, since she has never invited any visitors - one might perhaps be shocked to discover that unlike the often spacious and heavily personalized contents of the residences of many of the carnival-workers, hers still only contains a simple bed, kitchen and bathroom, all seemingly never used. The only addition she has introduced are heavy, thick dark blue curtains, plain and meant to be able to block both light and anyone from looking in more than anything else. If anyone were to ever ask, she would tell it is not a home, but a place for her to retreat, should she ever be chased away from everywhere else; since she does not sleep or fear cold, she will normally never retract to the dwelling assigned to her, but rather wander about on the carnival grounds when idle, regardless of temperature, rain, snow, or winds. Significant/Special belongings:
Elynne has scant few personal belongings, let alone objects that are significant and special. All in all, there are only three objects in her possession she considers meaningful, and would not part from without a second thought, but holds close and dear. - The first is a garment, a long white dress, a part of her and haunting reminder of what she is. - The second is a talisman, a wooden amulet, a memento and dear gift from a long-time friend. - The third is a weapon, a metal sword, a token and solid promise to herself for times to come.
The dress of the dreadwraith-kind
White is the color of ghosts and death, and hence the color the spirits and specters of death are commonly adorned in, the same as the dead and ghosts of the dead themselves. Dreadwraiths come into existence as bringers of death, and as such their garments, long dresses of indeterminable smooth material, are white like freshly fallen snow. These long white dresses are more a natural parts of the specters than something they own, objects that can be summoned at will, objects that can lose their material qualities and re-solidify along with their wearers themselves. A dreadwraith will own one since the beginning of her existence, and the dresses of all dreadwraiths are fitted to their forms, but otherwise nigh identical.
Elynne's dreadwraith-dress is no different. It appears to have a fairly simple and elegant form, flowingly falling to an inch past her ankle, further enhancing the impression that she is gliding over the ground as she walks rather than stepping on it. It barely ever lets her feet show - at most, one might catch a brief glimpse of a toe or heel when she hurries. It widens quite extensively as it nears the ground, allowing her to take long strides with ease; it lacks notable pattern or significant decorations, so its only remarkable qualities are its material and surreal motion; it has a v-neck, but it is subtle and modest rather than reaching deep; it has sleeves, short ones that end before her elbows.
The material falls almost like silk would, but although it is not see-through, it looks somehow lighter, airier, easily influenced by the slightest gust of wind and dancing along in a manner which alone can create an impression of ethereality. To touch it feels incredibly smooth, but seems to lack substance; if to pinch the fabric between two fingers, one would feel only soft smoothness, but no discernible thickness.
Much like any dreadwraith can hers, Elynne can form and disperse this dress at will; should she assume ethereality while wearing it, the dress would follow suit. It is a part of her, and thusly holds emotional value, but it is also a severe reminder of what she is and what she has done. But sometimes, such reminders are necessary... She also detests the color white in general, largely due to its connotations with death and loneliness.
The Amulet of Warded Pass
It is a parting gift of a long-time friend of hers, the ancient and knowledgeable deathsinger-banshee, and hence something Elynne holds dear for emotional reasons more than its qualities, though it does have some magical properties.
It is a perfectly round solid piece made of rowan wood, about three inches across and half an inch thick, thinning a bit towards the edges. Its backside is completely smooth to eye and touch alike, but its face has been meticulously carved into a reliefed surface, the most prominent feature of which is an intricate cross spanning the entirety of it.
It is not the cross of any particular religion, but rather something far more primal, a denial of pass that existed long before and transcended the modern beliefs. If anything, nowadays' religions have taken over the motif, and used this ancient mark of halting power to buff their own symbolics.
On its edge runs the pattern of an old warding spell, and the four quarter-circles left uncovered by the arms of the cross each contain symbols and patterns of their own, not quite as protruding as the cross, but nevertheless strongly embossed. There is not a pinhead's worth of surface left unpatterned.
The only thing that appears to mar the perfection of the amulet is a small, smooth hole, bored through the center of the wider end of one of the cross' four arms - into one of the four possible places where a hole could be carved without it disrupting its many meaningful patterns and thusly weakening the charm. Through this hole, a smooth black curiously twined - and indeed, this manner of twining is not meaningless, but a spell of its own - cord runs, making it possible for the amulet to be worn around the neck or hanged up.
Its backside is painted uniformly reddish-brown with some potent herbal dye that seems to have seeped deep in rather than covered the surface (the pattern of the wood remains visible), but its front has had its pattern further accentuated with two more colors - deep blue and evergreen-green shapes and lines standing out on the reddish-brown background.
Either held in hand and displayed, worn around the neck, or hanged over a path or an opening, it can indeed bar passage, make an individual ineligible for possession or stop the inhabitant for leaving, or force a supernatural being or animal into backing off. It does, however, not work against all types of being, but rather only a specific selection of them.*
The amulet's effectiveness is also heavily dependent on its current positioning - to give an example, it would only have an eighth of the power it has hanging from a branch reaching across a path when lying face down on the same path.
[[*Whether the type of being a played character is would be affected will be hashed out with individual players. I will be presenting my own vision of the effect and the extent of it, which can then be altered, rejected or accepted as is by the player oneself. Only, there can be no later reconsiderations.]]
That which shall become the Spirit of Sword
It is an intricate and beautiful longsword. Forged of only the purest silver and purest iron, it is a stunning combination of gleaming gray and perfect reflection.
For a blade in general, those materials are far from perfect - both pure silver and iron are too soft and yielding to make for a weapon that would endure (although the use of soft metals in weapons is sometimes unjustly frowned upon - sometimes it is better to have a weapon that is bent or warped rather than shattered or chipped, for the first you can bend and beat into shape again whereas the latter would need to be melt down and reforged), and silver is prone to darkening and iron to rust. It is because of these materials' more magical properties, namely the fact that they can harm multiple beings a weapon of any other material would not be able to. And with what she intends to do with the sword, the softness of the metals it is made of would become irrelevant, anyway...
The magnificent double-edged blade of the sword is forty inches long. At the base, it is 1.68 inches wide, whereas at five inches from the tip it has narrowed to just 1.54''; from there on the slightly tilted-inwards center-section (fuller) ends as a ridge takes over and the the blade curves into a fine pointed tip. Thickness reduces at a proportional rate.
Though its heart is iron, the center-surface of the blade is silver, and in it two reflected lines of spell-patterns of iron can be seen. The edges alternate between iron and silver, each segment spanning half an inch. - It is not easy to forge two metals together perfectly like that; magic may have been involved, or someone must have poured a lot of effort into the work. The result seems flawless, nary a crack or mixing present.
The hilt is iron and decorated with silver, matching the rest of the theme. The crossguard is straight rather than forwards-extending, forming a cross with the grip and blade; its fashioning is similar to the cross on the amulet, and the silver lines on it form an intricate patterning that seems almost meaningful. And indeed, though not as effective as its amulet-bound counterpart, this design also holds some power. The grip is oval, wrapped in black leather, and easily fits two hands - much like the grip of a longsword is supposed to. The pommel is round, and decorated with the already familiar mysterious symbolics.
Magnificent and decorative as the sword is, she currently has little use for it, for it is yet unfinished. Using it now would only inflict damage to it before it could reach its full potential, bend its malleable metal and introduce unnecessary imperfection... Furthermore, as it is, she cannot utilize her powers fully when wielding it. As it is now, she would be unable to take it along when seeping through holes, keeping a hold of it when ethereal would require significant effort, it would not respond to her recall... She intends to make it into something that could be summoned at will much like her dress can be, something that, much like she herself, can be both ethereal and material, something that is no longer prone to taking damage. It is truly not a sword she needs, but a ghost of a sword, one bound to her being. And she knows how to make one such ... but it requires time, effort, and some components that may not be the easiest to acquire. She is working on it.
It is currently unnamed, but once it is finished, it will be called Mõõga Vaim**, Spirit of Sword.
[[**More accurately meaning the kind of mentality - in the lack of better term - that a sword would have if we viewed one as a conscious being, or alternatively something that was once a sword, but has now become a spirit. It does not refer to kind of spirit that is either associated with a sword or lives in one. The latter would be one word.]]
White is the color of ghosts and death, and hence the color the spirits and specters of death are commonly adorned in, the same as the dead and ghosts of the dead themselves. Dreadwraiths come into existence as bringers of death, and as such their garments, long dresses of indeterminable smooth material, are white like freshly fallen snow. These long white dresses are more a natural parts of the specters than something they own, objects that can be summoned at will, objects that can lose their material qualities and re-solidify along with their wearers themselves. A dreadwraith will own one since the beginning of her existence, and the dresses of all dreadwraiths are fitted to their forms, but otherwise nigh identical.Elynne's dreadwraith-dress is no different. It appears to have a fairly simple and elegant form, flowingly falling to an inch past her ankle, further enhancing the impression that she is gliding over the ground as she walks rather than stepping on it. It barely ever lets her feet show - at most, one might catch a brief glimpse of a toe or heel when she hurries. It widens quite extensively as it nears the ground, allowing her to take long strides with ease; it lacks notable pattern or significant decorations, so its only remarkable qualities are its material and surreal motion; it has a v-neck, but it is subtle and modest rather than reaching deep; it has sleeves, short ones that end before her elbows.The material falls almost like silk would, but although it is not see-through, it looks somehow lighter, airier, easily influenced by the slightest gust of wind and dancing along in a manner which alone can create an impression of ethereality. To touch it feels incredibly smooth, but seems to lack substance; if to pinch the fabric between two fingers, one would feel only soft smoothness, but no discernible thickness. Much like any dreadwraith can hers, Elynne can form and disperse this dress at will; should she assume ethereality while wearing it, the dress would follow suit. It is a part of her, and thusly holds emotional value, but it is also a severe reminder of what she is and what she has done. But sometimes, such reminders are necessary... She also detests the color white in general, largely due to its connotations with death and loneliness.The Amulet of Warded Pass
It is a parting gift of a long-time friend of hers, the ancient and knowledgeable deathsinger-banshee, and hence something Elynne holds dear for emotional reasons more than its qualities, though it does have some magical properties. It is a perfectly round solid piece made of rowan wood, about three inches across and half an inch thick, thinning a bit towards the edges. Its backside is completely smooth to eye and touch alike, but its face has been meticulously carved into a reliefed surface, the most prominent feature of which is an intricate cross spanning the entirety of it. It is not the cross of any particular religion, but rather something far more primal, a denial of pass that existed long before and transcended the modern beliefs. If anything, nowadays' religions have taken over the motif, and used this ancient mark of halting power to buff their own symbolics. On its edge runs the pattern of an old warding spell, and the four quarter-circles left uncovered by the arms of the cross each contain symbols and patterns of their own, not quite as protruding as the cross, but nevertheless strongly embossed. There is not a pinhead's worth of surface left unpatterned. The only thing that appears to mar the perfection of the amulet is a small, smooth hole, bored through the center of the wider end of one of the cross' four arms - into one of the four possible places where a hole could be carved without it disrupting its many meaningful patterns and thusly weakening the charm. Through this hole, a smooth black curiously twined - and indeed, this manner of twining is not meaningless, but a spell of its own - cord runs, making it possible for the amulet to be worn around the neck or hanged up.Its backside is painted uniformly reddish-brown with some potent herbal dye that seems to have seeped deep in rather than covered the surface (the pattern of the wood remains visible), but its front has had its pattern further accentuated with two more colors - deep blue and evergreen-green shapes and lines standing out on the reddish-brown background. Either held in hand and displayed, worn around the neck, or hanged over a path or an opening, it can indeed bar passage, make an individual ineligible for possession or stop the inhabitant for leaving, or force a supernatural being or animal into backing off. It does, however, not work against all types of being, but rather only a specific selection of them.* The amulet's effectiveness is also heavily dependent on its current positioning - to give an example, it would only have an eighth of the power it has hanging from a branch reaching across a path when lying face down on the same path.[[*Whether the type of being a played character is would be affected will be hashed out with individual players. I will be presenting my own vision of the effect and the extent of it, which can then be altered, rejected or accepted as is by the player oneself. Only, there can be no later reconsiderations.]]That which shall become the Spirit of Sword
It is an intricate and beautiful longsword. Forged of only the purest silver and purest iron, it is a stunning combination of gleaming gray and perfect reflection. For a blade in general, those materials are far from perfect - both pure silver and iron are too soft and yielding to make for a weapon that would endure (although the use of soft metals in weapons is sometimes unjustly frowned upon - sometimes it is better to have a weapon that is bent or warped rather than shattered or chipped, for the first you can bend and beat into shape again whereas the latter would need to be melt down and reforged), and silver is prone to darkening and iron to rust. It is because of these materials' more magical properties, namely the fact that they can harm multiple beings a weapon of any other material would not be able to. And with what she intends to do with the sword, the softness of the metals it is made of would become irrelevant, anyway...The magnificent double-edged blade of the sword is forty inches long. At the base, it is 1.68 inches wide, whereas at five inches from the tip it has narrowed to just 1.54''; from there on the slightly tilted-inwards center-section (fuller) ends as a ridge takes over and the the blade curves into a fine pointed tip. Thickness reduces at a proportional rate. Though its heart is iron, the center-surface of the blade is silver, and in it two reflected lines of spell-patterns of iron can be seen. The edges alternate between iron and silver, each segment spanning half an inch. - It is not easy to forge two metals together perfectly like that; magic may have been involved, or someone must have poured a lot of effort into the work. The result seems flawless, nary a crack or mixing present.The hilt is iron and decorated with silver, matching the rest of the theme. The crossguard is straight rather than forwards-extending, forming a cross with the grip and blade; its fashioning is similar to the cross on the amulet, and the silver lines on it form an intricate patterning that seems almost meaningful. And indeed, though not as effective as its amulet-bound counterpart, this design also holds some power. The grip is oval, wrapped in black leather, and easily fits two hands - much like the grip of a longsword is supposed to. The pommel is round, and decorated with the already familiar mysterious symbolics.Magnificent and decorative as the sword is, she currently has little use for it, for it is yet unfinished. Using it now would only inflict damage to it before it could reach its full potential, bend its malleable metal and introduce unnecessary imperfection... Furthermore, as it is, she cannot utilize her powers fully when wielding it. As it is now, she would be unable to take it along when seeping through holes, keeping a hold of it when ethereal would require significant effort, it would not respond to her recall... She intends to make it into something that could be summoned at will much like her dress can be, something that, much like she herself, can be both ethereal and material, something that is no longer prone to taking damage. It is truly not a sword she needs, but a ghost of a sword, one bound to her being. And she knows how to make one such ... but it requires time, effort, and some components that may not be the easiest to acquire. She is working on it. It is currently unnamed, but once it is finished, it will be called Mõõga Vaim**, Spirit of Sword.[[**More accurately meaning the kind of mentality - in the lack of better term - that a sword would have if we viewed one as a conscious being, or alternatively something that was once a sword, but has now become a spirit. It does not refer to kind of spirit that is either associated with a sword or lives in one. The latter would be one word.]]
Fighting skills/techniques:
Elynne has the same set of qualities and abilities as any dreadwraith, and hence has adjusted her preferred fighting techniques to match with it. Dreadwraiths are not naturally tailored for quick fights; they are typically fairly slow, but utterly relentless and underailable killers. They are not warriors by nature; they are far more akin to chronic terminal illnesses. They may retreat every now and then, but without fail they will return, and without question or doubt finish the jobs they started. - If Elynne does not need to finish an opponent off a once, she is bound to do what a dreadwraith usually does: follow, watch, wait, project dread emotions, approach, inhabit, taint dreams, drain, retreat, repeat. Relentlessly repeat as the other slowly succumbs in both body and mind and until the one finally meets their demise. It is a slow and cruel way of killing someone, but also a tried, tested, and dreadfully guaranteed way of doing it. ...It is only so long an individual's mind can endure a constant barrage of heavy emotions and nightmares coupled with a following without escape and relentless attacks each time they lose alertness or nod off, and a body which is never allowed to properly recuperate but always loses energy is bound to last for a limited time. Should she be drawn into a confrontation she does not necessarily want to end in a death (just yet) or just want to drive someone off, chances are she would not resort to dishing out physical harm or leeching, but just solely focus on her ability to induce extremely powerful negative feelings and emotions and fleeting phantasms. Such is usually more than sufficient to put an abrupt stop to a person continuing to do what she saw as warranting such reaction, or at the very least distract them enough to make them ineffective in their endeavors. ...Halting them and making them try to focus on her, if not convincing them to abandon their intentions altogether for the time being, and thusly allowing anyone she might have chosen to aid with her intervention to back out of the situation. She herself will, on those occasions, end the encounter with backing out the same. More traditional fights, however, fights of she kind she wants to yield fatal results at once... Those are almost a form of art. Much as with the long-winded approach, she will rely heavily on wearing her opponent out, and much like with the bloodless confrontations, she makes heavy use of her power to induce feelings of dread and despair. She will dance, she will dodge, she will break focus and the casting of spells with overwhelming waves of crippling emotion... She does not require sleep, but the opponent usually does, and she does not tire quite in the same manner mortals to - her opponent will be weary and sluggish where she will remain fresh. She will dart close to drain with but a touch, only to evade a counterattack with the elegance of fog in wind. Or perhaps she will inhabit and force the person to try to fight their own feelings and drive her out at once? She will not hesitate to use a blade or firearm; a weaker enemy may have a punch thrown in their way... Drown an opponent, trip them, or collapse a construct on them - if possible, it may be done. In a fight to death, all methods are permitted. Weapon of choice:
Herself, all the powers in her possession included. Once it has been completed, Spirit of Sword is bound to become a permanent part of her arsenal. In general she will also never shy away from using anything she can use to her benefit in a fight to the death, be it blades, firearms, blunt weaponry or anything else. Job title & description:
The Vanishing Woman ||| Walker of Walls and WaterShe can hide behind an inch-thick pole! She can disappear before your eyes, but beware, should you turn your head, there she shall be, behind your very back! Behold, it is she who can tread across water! She who can walk upon cobwebs and run up a wall as if it were a floor like the one you stand upon! She who cannot be restrained! - Her acts heavily utilize her ethereal form, and her entire tent is rigged in a manner that allows her to take the most of it. The floor is about two inches elevated from the ground, and the floorboards rest upon a metal grid; the poles holding up the tent are hollow pipes, and the walls are all in two layers of fabric. The exact set she uses varies from performance to performance - more variation for both herself and the repeated audience -, but it typically involves a number of seemingly non-scalable vertical constructs, boxes she gets into but never climbs out of, poles, supports that should never be able to carry a human, sometimes an assistant to bind her up or try to "harm" her, and a part of the stage is typically a fillable pool. She also tends to go through several outfits during each performance, and while he normally never wears any kind of makeup, she will try to keep such on her face (not all that easy to accomplish when she goes ethereal) for the duration of being on stage, if only to make herself appear somewhat less unhealthily gaunt for the audience.Often enough, she lets members of the audience come over and inspect her equipment for themselves - only to discover that there indeed are no secret hatches or some such trickery, and no one the size of a human could possibly fit through. To reinforce her seemingly human looks, she will every now and then also hold out a hand for people to touch it, quite unlike her typical aversion of physical contact. ...Not only does touch ascertain the spectators that she is truly a material being (while allowing inspection of this kind), but such voluntary closeness makes branding much easier. Number of souls she has to collect: 100'000
Number of years she has to collect souls: 1000
What was her wish?
To gain full choice and live free of the fear of accidentally hurting those who do not deserve it and worse - be free from the danger of falling back within the curse entirely and resuming the day-by-day merciless killing without having any say in it. ...To not carry the curse within and fight in the name of keeping it contained each day, to nevermore have to constantly fear what she herself might do if her control of the currently-pacified curse slips without her ever having the chance to even try to stop herself. The remnants of the inherent curse still residing within her must go.How many souls has she collected? 874
(874 before the start of the IC, 0 after)How long has she been at the Carnival? Seven years and nine days.
(Of which zero days after the start of the IC)How the collection of souls has affected her?
She knew what she was getting into; she had weighed the act and all of its consequences with meticulous care before she signed the bargain. She knew she would be marking innocent and rotten souls alike for a wicked devil to later claim them, but by then she had also already resolved to eventually end Mr. Seil's endeavors for good. Before then, there were three more things she definitely had to do... One of those was the completion of the Spirit of Sword, for which she did not need or agree to any infernal aid, another was the finding of potential allies - and would these grounds not attract at least some thinkalikes? -, and the third was the purging of the remnants of her inherent curse, something she could not do anything against herself. The only option she had seen would have been to stop resisting and let the curse engulf her again, and then let someone conduct the releasing properly... But what if the curse would pick not the intended releaser, but someone else of the many she had drained from over time? What if they, intended releaser or not, would fail the releasing and succumb to her, slowly wane away before her eyes like so many before? And how many more would die before she was put a stop to again?Ironic as it was, a bargain with Mr. Seil seemed like the safer option for everyone involved. And with this option, there was at least the possibility of her undoing any further harm she would cause - whereas for those she had killed she could do little for. It was not an uninformed decision. There simply had not been a better, surer way.Make no mistake; she wholeheartedly detests the collection of souls and all it entails. It is only for the time being that she puts up with and partakes in it, and even then she will at least attempt to choose those who do something to come across as unlikable in her presence, provided she is not behind of her schedule with the soul quotas. If anything, the activity has only strengthened her determination and resolve to end Mr. Seil's reign. Before she could have walked away with just the knowledge of letting the horrid deals fester on chewing on her consciousness, but now she carries within a moral debt that she sees as binding ... a moral dept that only the release of the souls would erase. Killing Mr. Seil had stopped being an intention and become a duty when the first soul was handed in. She just has to be patient and handle things properly, or else she would see no victory. Personality:
At first look, she comes across rather calm and perhaps even sedate, never one to raise voice or make snide remarks, however there is fierce determination in her, and uncanny unyieldingness of the kind that is not commonly seen in people. She will barely ever argue or contest, but she also would nigh never back down or surrender. She seems polite and nice, often helpful, and appears to know how to make clear she disagrees without inciting an argument or ill feelings towards her when she so desires. That is not to say she cannot kill without the slightest hesitation, the slightly melancholic look in her eyes never wavering, or that she would not judge people and assign them sentences she sees fit according to her own understandings and morals. It should, however, be noted that to a great extent, her morals have remained influenced by the way of thinking commonly found in various spirits and specters rather than adapting to mortals' moral standards. As such she could not care less for modesty, and would not as much as raise an eyebrow if someone opted to proudly display all of their physical assets, nor care about how many partners one had had... She abhors killing for entertainment and pleasure, but will not think any worse of a person who snapped another's neck just because they happened to be standing on their personal spot, and will not shy away from an individual just because they have killed aplenty in the past. Many things which the average person finds disturbing or odd in others, she merely considers interesting or unusual. There is no hierarchy amongst spirits, specters, wraiths, ghosts, and their likes, and thusly she tends to treat everyone the same - always with respect, but never as though they were any higher or lower than she is. Just a bit different, perhaps... Like the individuals they are, rather than status signs. Relatedly, she tends to heavily dislike when people go around demanding different treatment just because they have some position or another.Arrogance is a thoroughly pointless trait; one either can or cannot, state the first if you are confident in your abilities, and from then on let your deeds speak for themselves. Resolution is valued over indecision, inaction is considered silent agreement, and weakness - mental weakness and vulnerability more specifically - is scorned whenever it surfaces. In the world of her likes, the weak are destined to be wiped out; such is the natural course. She deeply respects individual space and sanctity of others' possessions, and will typically abstain from physical contact unless the other has expressly stated that it is allowed - both because it is personal, and because by contact is how she drains, and hence she commonly expects people who know what she is to want to avoid touching her. She is always truthful about what she is, should people of the carnival ask; truth is a value in itself, and if one does not want to reveal how things truly are, one should rather remain forever silent. From her past experiences with mortals, she also tends to expect that others fear her, or at least be apprehensive towards her kind. As for personal space and belongings... Many spirits, specters, wraiths and ghosts guard their possessions and respective areas very ... keenly. So keenly, in fact, that should one cross their sole right to those things and take something without being gifted, traded or lent it (and the recipient better hand the lent objects back, or they will pay dearly!), one can easily find oneself cursed, hexed, dying of persistent illness or treading unknown paths till dropping dead from exhaustion or thirst. Or, in rare cases, simply promptly killed - drowned, neck snapped ... often enough, the death will look like an accident. Dreadwraiths themselves are not location-bound, and hence Elynne has no particular sense of ownership towards her assigned carriage, even if she, out of respect towards others, still does not enter the residences of people that are not her targets without being permitted to. She, however, does care about her scant few dear objects ... almost as much as spirits typically do. Aside of killing for entertainment and fun - something that spirits of nature consider disrupting of balance -, and arrogance and lack of respect towards others' belongings, she predominantly holds strong feelings towards imposing one's will on others, owning and controlling them. Sure, she herself tampers with minds, too, but she only lets the people experience sensations, rather than seizing control over them... No one owns anyone, and none should. Each belongs to oneself only. (Even skinwalkers do not really own the bodies they possess; they just ... lend them for a bit. Or so they say. If there is one type of ethereal beings Elynne is a bit in-between about, it would be the skinwalkers.) - She is uncertain whether this belief is so powerful because of the culture of spirits and specters or because she herself was forced to do things she did not want to for so long by her curse. You see, the fact that her kind naturally killed slowly left plenty of time for her to learn to know some of those people her curse had picked as her targets well ... and horrifyingly enough, she ended up liking many of them. It was much like killing one's friends, if ... very one-sided friends. She herself was always only seen as a monster and misfortune. And how could she not be?Hence, while she may go to extreme lengths to help people in the endeavors she approves of and try to support them at almost all costs whenever possible, she will never make a significant effort to make a person reconsider, or force someone to alter their values or change sides. She will find out what they intend and are and ... that is that. Their decision. Their choice. Not hers.She likes to converse with people, find out what they are like, what their beliefs and opinions are, what they aspire, what they may think of an idea or another ... also support and help them, if she approves of them. She will typically speak in a soft, quiet voice, either unfazed and perhaps ever so slightly melancholic, or contrastingly distinctly happy, but seemingly never anything else. Unless it is positive reaction, it seems that she simply is not all that emotive. One can however conclude it is a matter of sparseness of facial expressions rather than lack of emotions. Her talks also may come as a bit unusual every now and then ... perhaps remnants of the aforementioned spiritkind's culture. She, however, also tends to stay away from crowds wherever possible - especially if people are packed so densely that it may result in accidental physical contact. Hence, she mostly only approaches people when she discovers them alone, or mostly alone. Despite her aversion of large conglomerations of people she ... has been feeling somewhat lonely, especially now that she is not surrounded by spiritkind as much as she used to be. What else is there to say about her ways? When she is not performing or quietly talking to a person or another she has seen fit to approach for the time being, she usually wanders about on the festival grounds, seldom asking permission to leave the area to seek out her own likes or do some unknown business. Often, she seems to be almost meditative, focused on keeping the remnants of her inherent curse in their current state. sugary poison
Shienvien Creator and Destroyer
Member
Seen
25 days ago
Here shall be her story.
Shienvien Creator and Destroyer
Member
Seen
25 days ago
Elynne's Relationship Chart
The information within is given in accordance to what could be derived from the individuals' descriptions and impressions from what examples of interaction were available at the time of compilation. Assumptions have been made, and as it often tends to be, opinions on the individual examples of the variety of persons around one may be subject to change.{{ ♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral }}
***
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ☠ ~
Horrible man, that wicked demon, binding the innocent, enslaving the unsuspecting, drawing in those who desire, those who hope, many of whom only give in in the hopes of eventually doing good... Once she is free, she will see him fall and every not thoroughly evil soul currently in his relentless grasp released, but for now she will have to wait, resist the temptation of trying to inconspicuously drain his power - not to nourish herself, but as an offense, to weaken him in any way she can. One day ... but for now, she must at least feign being his ally. Nevertheless, one day. ***
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ◑ ~
For the most part, the dreadwraith can only feel deeply sorry for the enslaved angel that is the demon's wife... The other, smaller part of Elynne feels strangely ... frustrated by a number of the angel's main traits. Annoyed at them. Almost angered by them, even. A part of the specter almost wants to confront the naive girl-child and all her precious "purity" and nonconfrontationalness... Show her what her learned vulnerability and her submission does to everyone. Show her that it is not right to condone evil! That inaction is a crime almost as horrible as doing the deed oneself! That it is not right to squeeze your eyes shut, turn your head away, and pretend that everything is fine and dandy with all the things that ensue in the carnival, the things her husband does! She is a woman, for the sake of all that is good and holy, not a day old infant! "Frail gender", she says, "meant to submit" she says, "find a man to protect her", she says... That attitude hurts people! Makes them suffer, both the protected and protectors! If world were a fair place, her passive agreement of what was going on would have long corrupted her through and through...But for the most part, Elynne can only feel deeply sorry for her. The angel feels like a beautiful swan whose wings have been chopped off - by her own father, no less - when she was still a fledgling, never to learn what the power of flight means. No resistance in her, no fight, no dominance, no hard steadfast resolution coupled with ambition,, nothing. The angel is defenseless, vulnerable and ... weak. So vulnerable, so weak, so frail, so fragile... So easy prey for anyone. The angel's vulnerability almost beckons the curse still residing deep within the dreadwraith, as she can almost feel it - or is it but her imagination? - being roused by the specter's senses telling her that the woman, with the frailty of her mind, is the perfect victim, one who would die so quickly... Silence, curse! Alas, Elynne can only hope that, should she herself ever be severely injured, the fool of a girl-child will not try to heal her... She fears it would be too much of a temptation for the curse, and that she would most likely be to weak to fight it, and the curse would arise again ... she would fully revert back to being the monster she once was, till someone either manages to kill her or sets her properly free. - Ah, but of course the angel has never heard any of her thoughts about her, for the dreadwraith is too held-back and mild-mannered to bring such a topic up on her own accord. Elynne merely watches the angel with a deep, painful sadness in her eyes that by far transcends her usual mildly melancholic look, and if approached, she flees from the angel, for the angel is a flickering candle and the dreadwraith is the storm...***
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☠ ~
A true monster, that one, and furthermore a deceptive one. It is perhaps his seemingly innocent boyish look and twisted sense of 'romanticism' that makes him especially objectionable and vile ... sick, perverted, whatever word one can conjure up to describe his depravity, it would probably fit. Say what one might about wicked beings, but a wicked being who is honest about one's own wickedness is in any case preferable to this specific kind of twisted freak who persists to believe that they have good ideals.Elynne has made herself a note to drain just a tiny sliver of his energy so she would have a track of him... Both so she would know where he goes - to intercept him the next time he is up to something, perhaps - and to ascertain that she would have an easy time hunting him down once she is free. That ... individual would be one of the first ones to go. Easier to deal with than Seil, and some extra strength in addition to what nourishment she can find otherwise would not hurt her other hunts...***
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
The guy has been at the Carnival for a too short time for Elynne to have any kind of strong opinion over him as of yet. Another fallen angel, though... Why did he fall? A harsh unforgiving past or twisted personal morals? Perhaps she will find out soon enough... ***
Pachid Coyotas ~ ◑ ~
Elynne feels ... suprisingly apathetic towards the man, if she were to be honest. She occasionally sees minuscule semblance to herself in him, and she dislikes his indifference and laziness - never even mention those surrounding him he considers friends -, but this is more or less where the extent of her feelings towards him ends. She is aware that he is a hunter of the living much like she is, though one of a somewhat different kind, and she also knows that his wish was to not have to feed as often, likewise not too unlike hers - though Elynne suspects that in his case, it has more to do with lazyness than any kind of desire to protect people who do not necessarily deserve death. Pachid does not appear to be a too violent a man, nor is he a stupid one - quite opposite, in fact -, and much like she herself he seems to always observe and analyze before acting. Elynne can talk with him, she feels, and sometimes she does, should such rare thing occur that she finds the man alone, but nevertheless there are many things she would never voice in his presence as things stand - nothing about what she intends, nothing about what she desires -, for this man has a wicked company in the way of twisted friends of his own. If it were not for the looming presence of Andracos, perhaps they could even have been something akin to friends themselves. Deep inside, some small part of her hopes that come the day to destroy Andracos, Pachid would not try to stand in the way like she suspects he doubtlessly would...***
Ty ~ ☺ ~
From what Elynne knows, the air elemental has been at the Carnival for a few years longer than she herself - which says a lot, since back when the dreadwraith joined the ranks of those bound to the Carnival, Ty had been more or less pretty much still a child. Where was her family, one could wonder, for a child to be left on one's own at such a young age? Dead, dead they are, dead they were left behind, and all that's left is to wonder is how or why Ty's own life was spared - a thing which, it seems, not even Ty herself knows. Nor does she know anything of the following several years, but somehow she came upon this Carnival in a search for a place to belong ... and here she ended up being caught and stayed, even if it was perhaps one of the least preferable places a person could call a home, a pretty place with a rotten core.Indeed, back when Elynne arrived she had seen Ty being still immersed in the superficial wonders of the Carnival, knowing what lied beneath but not truly caring that much ... but in time it had all faded, and the air elemental became cynical and quiet, keeping her mien free of emotions and all feelings within. There was little wonder left in her these days.Yet... Ty is not an indifferent person, Elynne feels, but rather one who has made oneself to harden and close up in order to better bear what hardships life has had to offer her. It is largely loneliness that the dreadwraith can sense from this woman nowadays - and the sense of loneliness was also what first prompted Elynne to try and approach the air elemental and talk to her. She can be more than just a bit sharp-tongued and unchoosing in her words, but Elynne - seemingly ever-calm and quiet-voiced - barely seems to pay any mind. In the end, Ty responds with the same to those who are kind towards her, and ultimately it by far outweighs a few potentially hurtful remarks. ***
Arina Lécuyer ~ ◑/☠ ~
What is there to say about this one...? Lack of integrity and honor is perhaps her most defining trait. The other defining traits would be unreliability, selfishness and a certain ... flashiness (and here Elynne means behavior, not appearance; as far as she is concerned, it is perfectly acceptable for people to walk around in nothing but their own skin, let alone "look immodest").The dreadwraith can look past Ty's sharp remarks with ease, since Ty herself she considers a good person, but Arina? Arina will hammer a weakness she discovered just so she can be entertained by the reactions such an act will incite. A vile trait, that is, along with her selfish manipulativeness and swinging. Elynne would not bet one cent on her loyalty, and as such is bound to never reveal anything to her, let alone think of her as an ally of any kind. She is a known conniving little liar and backstabber. - Those who would not stand by another's side in danger do not deserve protection. - Those who do not stay true to their words do not deserve loyalty or truth. - Those who hurt for entertainment do not deserve the respect of others. - Those who do not give do not deserve to obtain what they want. For the most part, Elynne just tries to stay out of this fallen one's way; her personality is more irritating than anything. She is not in the dreadwraith's list of people to be eventually killed - regrettably, it appears that the folks the carnival has drawn in have made it notably longer than just "Mr. Seil" -, but she would not step out for her protection, either, even if she were attacked before her very eyes. She would just look, appearing slightly melancholic, and then walk away....***
Soren Novák ~ ☠ ~
So much arrogance, so much greed... And a soul-collector, too? And proud of his deeds enough to flaunt them? Eurgh, this character is almost as sick as Andracos is, and deserves no mercy from her or others. Mr. Seil and Andracos remain a priority - though chances were that in dealing with Mr. Seil, she would have Soren on her back, too, since it appears that those two are some manner of friends, or at least as close to friends as two selfish demons can be -, but he deserves death, through her doing, should no one else predecede her. For now ... for now she is content with staying out of his way and pretending he does not exist, just like he usually pretends she does not exist.***
Reira Masin ~ ◑/☺ ~
The woman has been here for a short while only - from a couple to a handful of days, but less than a week in any case; it can be hard to distinguish one day from another if one does not get tired and sleep at regular intervals. Such a brief period of time is not quite enough to learn to know a person, but from what Elynne has seen, she seems agreeable enough. Quite helpful and carefree, for now at least; perhaps it is only because the cruelty of the carnival has not managed to sour her yet. That was something only time and grim realizations accomplished...Indeed, for now the woman appeared perhaps a bit too carefree; there was a certain inevitable severity to the traveling circus, a severity Elynne had already seen several of the people here discover for themselves. Ty and the rest... You are naive, Reina; to survive in this place and this world, you need not only determination and adherence to your principles, but also the willingness to walk forward and fight for them. What difference did branding children make? Sealing the soul of a thoroughly good adult was no less fair towards the individuals affected... If he were to only brand the evil, then perhaps ... but what difference would even that make? One person being an oddball would make no difference whatsoever, not with the likes of Soren and Mr. Seil himself around. No, they must stop at nothing less than exterminating the sorry excuses for people. And you? You will either become a warrior or step aside ... lead all the other people who are not fighters away as well.***
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑/☠ ~
Another unsavory individual, this one mostly due to being a kind of a sadist. Not only does he observe people in unpleasant circumstances, he will arrange said unfortunate circumstances to incite interesting reactions for him to read... Very observant. Very ... sneaky. Unpleasantly so. Dangerously so. And should he ever get his wish, he would be even more dangerous. She must be very careful with this one... But he is also not the only one who watches unnoticed, for it is also her forte. He can read people with uncanny accuracy; she tends to only ever display one of two expressions, and is extremely hard to draw out a discernible emotion from. His mind-reading skills are superior, but his manners, intentions and relations are also more evident. He knows humans and their reactions, but she is no human. He hides in shadows, but she does not sleep, can masquerade as plenty of objects, and can pick up a presence without the use of sight. What was this? A game? A war? A dangerous affair in either case. Elynne doubts the man has a clear allegiance; most likely just another one of those who are only out for themselves.***
Imalia ~ ◑ ~
To some small extent, she resembles a freshwater spring spirit Elynne once used to know ... though the said spirit was male, had never known anything but freedom, and was probably also fully asexual. Just something about how she was so sensitive and demanding towards the cleanliness and untouchedness of her personal body of water, and her unpredictability, and unfazedness at her own kills. The dreadwraith recalled she had found the spirit sitting on a rock by his spring one time, with the corpse of a six-year-old child floating but half a dozen feet away. When she asked about it, the spirit had just shrugged nonchalantly, and explained that the child had climbed into the spring without asking for and receiving his permission first. The corpse had been left there as a warning - the women coming for drinking water in the early hours of he morning would find it, and spread the word. Of course, Imalia hid her kills; she had no need for such disturbing warnings, quite opposite, she wanted to remain inconspicious. But Elynne was observant. Elynne knew. The siren was not a very talkative, be the topic her own musings or others' affairs. Appeared to listen to at least some extent when others told her something, though, but whether it was with a genuine sliver of interest or just something she paid some mind to just because it was less monotonous than staring at the walls of her tank day after day, she did not know. She has wondered into her tent a couple of times when no one is near, to talk of random matters. Not her own concerns, or anyone else's. Just talk. About the world, about the way people thought. She was quite certain the siren heard about enough troubles as was. The siren's voice, however... Perhaps she will ask her to sing one day; she is sure she can resist and just listen still, if becoming slightly mesmerized. She never got to hear her friend, the deathsinger-banshee sing, after all... - What can happen? At worst, she would be roused by water, but even then, slipping away should be an easy enough feat.***
Jing Lao ~ ☺ ~
He is certainly a very feminine-looking man - and it is indeed very. If his voice were not at least somewhat discernibly masculine, if still fairly soft, she would probably still be thinking that he is a case of a male mind in a female body... It happened, sometimes, and quite often the disparity caused the individuals great distress. Other than that ... he has been at the carnival for about a month or so only, but yet Elynne has the feeling that he is the sorts who would retain his manners and calm even in the face of a world ending. Likes to contemplate, it seems, and is always open for a talk (and tries to solve conflicts with mere words, too). He would not be much of an ally in her personal crusade-to-be (and would probably highly disapprove of it), but other than that, he should make for a decent enough friend. They can sit on pillows around a little round table, drinking tea and eating biscuits, and discuss philosophy (or whatever seems interesting at the time being). - A part of her keeps being slightly concerned that someone might accidentally step on him in his changed form, or one of the twitchy ones swat him for an actual spider.***
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
Another newcomer to the carnival; there seems to be quite the influx of such recently. A pure demon, but surprisingly enough one who seems almost agreeable based on the first few impressions. Many of the demonkind do not need as much as a day to come across as wicked and depraved ... they often mock, start arguments, brag with their deeds, try to corner someone or another, but Antione quite has not. Not yet, anyway. Pretense? A way to get close to people to backstab them more effectively? Or a genuine attempt to be as good person as a demon could be? Elynne does not know yet. What she does know, though, is the existence of his skill with fire. Should he become her opponent, that fire could make him a dangerous adversary to her indeed...***
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
A ... questionable individual. He does not appear to have an easy time interacting with people he has not known for a long time, and seems to distrust everyone; his past is dark. Elynne is inclines to think that rather than being an evil person at heart, he is one of those who has been caught between the flaming jaws of life, and, in order to survive, adapted to the circumstances in a rather unfortunate manner. To be sold to one demon, only for this to force him to become to a slave to yet another demon atop of remaining under the command of the first...The man's master is yet another of those she might try to pursue (but are not there far too many of such beings?), should Mr. Seil be successfully felled, and perhaps he is also the key that leads to the demon. He himself, though ... she does not think he can be trusted. She may talk to him, should she find him alone, as she is wont to do, but always of purely trivial matters. Perhaps he can be guided to a better path... Perhaps he will fully condemn himself, and earn his death... But predominantly, he is probably just one of those who should stay out of way. ***
Angoriel ~ ◑/☺ ~
Half-angel, half-demon - the righteousness and protectiveness of an angel, the lust and violence of a demon, the wrath of both... He seems almost perpetually conflicted with himself, often appearing to have immense difficulties sorting through his conflicting instincts and rational thought, and comes across as all too easy to anger, even if he tries his best to restrain himself. Nevertheless, she almost feels something akin to kinship to him. They are vastly different types of being, but from what she knows, the both of them have been forced into doing things they later on realized would not have wanted to do simply due to being what they were... They both came into existence with something within them that they now have to constantly fight to keep at bay ... even if hers does not affect his thoughts and feelings, but is much more sly . And are many their views and aspirations not similar in some sense or another? With his wish, he was even more ambitious than she, since he wished to set free his entire people - she did not even dare think what price relieving the dreadwraith-kind of their inherent curse would demand... But she, in return, aims to eventually set free all those souls the Wish Master and Soren have obtained over time, and then to pursue evil and others of their likeness wherever she can. Should she tell him what she intends to do? She ... does not know. She has not arrived at a concrete conclusion yet, at least. She has been contemplating doing so for a long while, however, and perhaps she will do so indeed - he, after all, seems like one of the very few individuals in the carnival who might actually support her pursuits, maybe even as an actual ally, should he not wish to return to his people right away. Otherwise it seems that the majority of the people at the carnival are either vile and despicable beings themselves, too loyal to Mr. Seil, too morally ambiguous for her to assume that they would sway in one way or another and hence put trust in them, or frail little sweet things who would be crushed - mentally and physically - the very moment it came to severe conflict. Put concisely, she has been feeling quite alone in what she intends...And Elynne feels that he is genuinely trying to be a good person, something the fact that she has seen him try to comfort and help people on several occasions seems to testify. She approves of it. He also seems to hold honorable principles and good intentions in high regard. She approves of that, too. He also seems to share her dislike of crowds, which makes locating him mostly alone and talking to him easier for her. But in the end, she is still not entirely certain what he thinks of her... Like with many a person, she feels that he might, to some small extent, be fearing her for the kind of being she is.A part of her cannot help but wonder whether the two halves of him are separate enough for her to be potentially able to weaken one and strengthen the other... She has not dared to bring the topic up, let alone try doing something like that. ***
Sarah Hiddle ~ ◑/☺ ~
Emotionally she feels quite friendly towards this particular angelic woman, be it because she holds herself in a somewhat similar manner or otherwise. Her story is also a fairly sad one... Oh, how familiar Elynne herself is to the feeling of having to watch something horrifying ensue, but not being able to do anything about it! So often did it occur during the days of the full power of her curse that she had to watch a person slowly succumb to something she did. How different is having to watch the one you are supposed to guard grief and end oneself, without being permitted to intervene, especially if you technically would have been physically capable of changing the course of happenings? Oh, how do angels cripple themselves; being born an angel has, more and more, started to seem like a curse in and of itself, with the frailty of their womankind, with the many laws imposed upon them, with corruption always lurking behind a corner...Rationally, Elynne is conflicted. Is this woman not too gripped by her own personal griefs to not see the bigger picture. What good is saving a single soul, if in exchange thousands of innocent unwitting souls will be handed over to a demon for potentially an eternity of slavedom? Can she not see the cruel irony of her choice? She does no appear to be the one to fight to free them later on, though who knows, perhaps she would yet see the light...At the current rate, she would not even finish her collection in time - she has only a bit over half of the amount of souls to collect she does, but only a fifth of the time, and despite having been here more than four times longer than she has, her soul-count is at mere quarter of hers. And thusly, all the souls she has sacrificed are bound to be for naught. It ... is sad. Sad like the heavy emotional weariness residing over the angelic woman.***
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ◑ ~
Careless happy chatty flower-smelling little faerie... Elynne does not have particularly strong feelings towards her. Much of a willing fighter she is not (though she certainly can fight, surprisingly enough ... the werewolf-lass and dear Celleci have been teaching her how to), neither is she malevolent despite a few sharp words in her arsenal, and regretfully she also holds Mr. Seil too dear to be entrusted with much. That little drawback left aside, she is agreeable enough of a character, always smiling and fairly generous towards most of the carnival folks. So ... overflowing, however. Oh, so overflowing; her buzzing wings and way with words (which she is not shy to demonstrate) are seemingly everywhere. It is in part due to her mischievous habit of swapping out things that Elynne has taken to constantly wearing her precious amulet around her neck; about that which shall become the Spirit of Sword (which could be an awkward object to carry about at all times) she does not worry much, for it is large and contains a hefty amount of the purest iron - something that would cause serious hurt to a faerie. Not that she would be likely to want to tamper with Elynne's possessions, anyway ... she has gotten the impression that the kind of being she is has made the little faerie more than just apprehensive towards her. ***
"Genie", Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur ~ ◑/☠ ~
The ... werewolf-lass. The matriarch alpha of her own personal strand of werewolves. And the ... "madam". A bit too obsessed with her alpha-status. The most of them are not her pack, and respect goes both ways... She is flamboyant, crafty, and only truly cares for people who are useful to her. She uses people as she sees fit. Protects those she finds useful or considers her kind, but otherwise Elynne questions whether she has many personality traits which are ... desirable.Her status as the "madam" is also grounds for many a doubt. Of course, there was the occasional individual who actually did enjoy this kind of work... People who did not get too attached to just anyone they were in an intimate physical encounter with, but took pleasure from the activities of this nature as such, individuals who were strong-willed, sensual, were good at bargaining (even took delight in it), and derived some odd brand of self-confidence from seeing people want them enough to pay for it ... individuals who also exclusively worked purely on their own terms and picked their clients carefully according to their own tastes, feeling free to scorn the rest. The overwhelming majority of the representatives of this profession, however? Poor souls who force themselves into letting their bodies be raped while they pretend to enjoy it, just because it seemed like the least bad out of the available options. How many of those "sisters" are there just because they did not deem themselves capable of anything else and figured they would at least stay physically intact on this post (and the more vain ones may perhaps forget none of the adult carnival workers ages)? Elynne does not know, and for now, she thinks she does not want to know, lest she has another name to be added to her growing list of those meant to die. Some of the were's ... personality traits make the dreadwraith inclined to think most of the "workers" are there not entirely voluntarily. And if she tried to force any of the women she cared about into the profession ... then, then she might not be able to refrain from seriously hurting the "big bad wolfie". Stay away from Ty and Reina... Just ... stay away."Genie" also wanted to become a true wolf, did she not? An animal would be out of this kind of business, and there were worse people about to prioritize, such as Andracos. To take her entire bloodline along, to share her refound canine nature, possibly against many of their wills? Is it not a crime against them? She ... will have to think about it, should the were get close to meeting her quota. - Elynne thinks that where atypical variations of werewolf are concerned, she definitely prefers those found in the general region of what she could perhaps call her origin land ... the land the people of which she recalls targeting the earliest. Dreadwraiths are not born to a home; they come into existence in one place, and then move on, from person to person.***
Robin ~ ◑ ~
She is certainly an interesting kind of being... Not alienating - the dreadwraith has treaded long and far, and seen plenty of uncanny and curious entities -, but highly unusual. But although Elynne has seen her fair share of magical automatons, the dolls she carries are an entire new kind of novelty. The human-looking one certainly has a foul mouth... She tends to enjoy talking to her, and it appears the notion is mutual. There is something missing from Robin, however... Something that mortals typically have. Elynne finds it very hard to put it to words what it is exactly, and her senses are not exactly attuned to detecting finer nuances like that. It is more of a hunch, or perhaps a general impression. Something about her emotions and how she handles them...Robin ... tries to replicate the emotional reactions of others? How much of it is intentional mimic? Could it be the result of some form of exaggerated sense of empathy, or is she replicating something that she sees in others, but lacks in herself? Something about the way she was created? Is she still developing, or is she bound to forever remain in the realm of pseudo-emotions lent from others? Remains to be seen... - Should Elynne be openly wearing her amulet of warded pass when she spots Robin, she will flip it face towards her chest and slide it under her garments, since although she is not certain, she suspects the amulet may cause either Robin or the dolls (these ... have wills of their own, rather than being controlled?) she carries notable discomfort. It is, after all, meant to keep the dead and various magical automatons away amongst other things, and ... well, Robin and her little companions certainly do look like they might fall somewhere under those two categories. ***
Jayce ~ ◑ ~
Quite impressive with his magical skills... Certainly a spectacle, seeing him transform... Elynne has, however, not had too much contact with him, even if he is not necessarily a newcomer... Seems harmless enough for the time being, and the dreadwraith has come to suspect he might have a slight crush on Ty. A terrible wind-flag, however, and hence not really one to be relied on. Unless, perhaps, Ty was somehow involved.Mogue Blackfeldspar
Far too loyal to Mr. Seil for her liking. Cynical snide little creature. Holds himself in a manner that seems to indicate that he considers respect towards him for granted. Vivianna Detro’
Another of those Elynne considers all to loyal to Mr. Seil. Pushy, overbearing, and otherwise largely intolerable character. At least she is honest and has some courage to stand her ground ... whether the latter traits outweigh the former remains to be seen. Dimuegos Penarum
Mr. Seil's pet dog...Grog
Compassionate, loyal, selfless, truly and honestly a good person, if a bit slow in grasping things at times. Truly regrettable that such a being would be a loyal subordinate to that bloody Mr. Seil...Starla Carlotta
Always one to try to entrance others and make herself the center of attention; she enjoys it. Tries a bit too hard with some, should they be resistant, but nevertheless Elynne has yet to pick up anything actually malevolent in her. Empathetic, kind, helpful, caring... But valorous? Righteous? Should it come down to it, would she pick justice and good, or Mr. Seil? She thinks she would rather this one stayed away, should the judgment day arrive. Just in case. Her presence would mean she would be hurt deeply, either way...Warlockice Comet
Menace. Just ... menace. Or perhaps a vermin to be exterminated.The Infamous Titanic Rascal
One of Mr. Seil's victims who did not manage to hoard enough souls... Seems benign enough, even good in some simplistic way. The Corrupt Unholy Jester Who Seeks Solitude
Staying at at least two meters' distance is advisable. Yet one more of the wretched demon's victims, and yet again one who appears like a generally nice, agreeable person... 
CaughtInTheRiddle The Goddess
Member
Seen
9 mos ago
Appearance:
Demonic Appearance:
Age:
As far as anyone knows, she’s twenty one, but then again, she’s been with the Carnival for centuries, and she’s a well-known liar.
Gender:
Female
Species:
Demon
Fallen Angel
Most Used Power:
As an Angel, Arina’s physical abilities are exceptional; she was speedy and stealthy which was a great help in stealth operations and hand to hand combat. She came close to mastering the elements of air and earth, embracing the light which followed. She was able to attain the power to permanently copy the powers of another. However, this didn’t come as easy as one would expect - it is not as easy as touching the person. A long and painful process in involved with taking another’s power, as it copies, instead of absorbing – depending on the level of power, Arina could be incapacitated for up to three days after taking a power.
However; when she was possessed and fell, her powers were twisted, and she forgot the element of air; concentrating on the element of fire. Through this she was thrown into the Darkness, however, out of that came the power to create, manipulate and destroy matter. This power, however, can take quite the toll on her if used too much. Sometimes it would be easier to run from the battle than to stand there and waste the time and energy on deconstructing the matter of her opponent, other times, it can lead to immense pain and very rarely cause her to start breaking the matter of her own body down.
Now she finds it even harder to copy a power, if not impossible. When she can however, physical powers are her forte – she doesn’t work at all powers such as telekinesis, telepathy or anything else along those lines; so she tends not to develop those powers.
Arina’s power is more of a problem than anything else. Some powers she has copied are impossible for her to develop, they have the tendency to put her in immense pain, and if she is not careful, she could be killed by one of her powers. She uses the power once, as a trial, and if she has a negative experience using it, she never uses it again.
Significant/Special Belongings:
Her Cart
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Arina isn’t much of a fighter, it’s not like she doesn’t enjoy the exhilarating magical feeling of violence and war, she’s simply too lazy. Trickery is her game; she’ll talk her way out of a fight before she draws a sword. However; when she’s forced into a fight, she uses her small frame to be quick, stealthy and agile on her feet; using a carefully crafted samurai sword, she silently moves to slice her opponent.
Despite her agility, however, her small frame lacks strength, when caught, she is easily overpowered and will generally give in if it means saving her own skin. Although she’ll occasionally use one, guns aren’t her style; she deems them as impersonal and rude weapons.
Weapon of Choice:
Samurai Sword
Job Title & Description:
Technically, Arina run’s a kissing booth, but nine times out of ten, she’ll decide what she feels like doing on the day – it can range from helping Pachid on his dunking stall, to juggling while telling other’s fortunes.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
9 000 000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
500
What Was Your Wish?
Arina’s original wish was for the ability to heal from any wound or state and always stay preserved in the young body she has… since then she’s made about ten or more deals with Mr Seil; she can’t name them all off the top of her head.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
2 586 816
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
“Don’t ask, because I don’t want to know…”
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
Well if anything, it’s made her value how fast time can fly.
Personality:
Arina is a playful type to say the least; modest is not in her vocabulary which makes her unfavourable towards many other females. Manipulative, cunning and very tramp like, Arina would stop at nothing to get what she wants; however, despite her rather amazing yet completely unnecessary gift to make everything she wears look, well, immodest, and her touchy and flirtatious nature, she will fight to the death before she lets an undesired male touch her.
Shallow and sharp-tongued, she’s quick to attack someone’s emotional weakness for her own enjoyment. She’s selfish and will do anything to save herself before she saves another life. However, despite her unlikable nature, if she deems one worthy of her loyalty, she will follow them to the ends of the earth without question. Nevertheless, she will show that trait to anyone and then lead them astray, she’s a hard book to read and is a hellion to have as an enemy; but, if her trust is gained, she’s a good ally. It’s hard to pick which side Arina is on; she doesn’t tend to side with anyone. One day she’ll help someone and the next, she’s working only for herself.
It’s not often she’ll act her age, childish and immature are her normal attributes. She’s incredibly lazy and will bribe others to get what she wants. She doesn’t take much seriously which can often help in serious and life-threatening situations. Calm, cool and collected is her game as it takes a lot for her rage to break.
Biography:
Arina was born into a fairly noble family of Angels. She was the sweetest and most promising out of all her siblings – that was, until she was possessed. First she fell ill, and nobody thought anything of it, then she started seeing things, hearing whispers in the night; and by the time anyone realised what was happening, her body had been taken from her. However, her father, in one last desperate act to save his little girl, preformed a spell – in attempt to rid the demon of her body once and for all. The spell went terribly wrong and somehow, the two souls merged, forming what she is today. She fell instantly, and from then on, she was on her own.
Disowned by her family and her race, she turned to the darkness for comfort – but she found little there. Through the years she became more self-reliant, fighting for survival, and nine times out of ten, she lost. It was her body; for although she was now a demon, her original form was still that of an Angel, therefore making it weak and prone to injury.
It was Mr Seil who offered her the deal – he was a stranger in a bar and they got talking; he offered her a body that recovered from any sickness or injury, a body that never aged; an immortal body. Without hesitation, she accepted, not even worrying about the freedom she was about to sign away.
Over the years, she wasn’t as successful as she would have liked to be, branding souls, and three times in a row, the day before the end of her contract, she’d make another deal with him – throwing her further into debt, but saving her from becoming a freak. She’s on her third deal now, and Mr Seil has made note to catch her out if she tries it again.
Played by CaughtInTheRiddle
Arina Lécuyer
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ◑ ~
“Mr. Seil… there are no real words for the man. A great man, a great wish master – ruthless, cunning, intimidating, friendly, intelligent, sarcastic, strong-willed and a very good sales man. Not much slips by this man – he knows all, even more than me or Stefan, which is saying something. Mr. Seil is an amazing man – he’s fun, yet he instantly receives the respect he silently demands… he deserves every ounce he receives. Great guy and I have undying admiration for the man… unfortunately he doesn’t like me much… kind of awkward because he’s seen my boobs… He’s actually one of the few men who looks me in the eyes when we speak… even after he’s seen how great they are… Oh God I think I really need to cut down on the drinking…”
Rosalina Bell Seil ~ ☺ ~
“Rosalina, Rosalina, Rosalina – oh my poor little Rosalina. To be ripped from your home and forced into marriage… I feel for the girl. But, that’s life I guess… even she knows that… better her than me. I like her – she’s cool to talk to and she’s always willing to lend a helping hand. I do pity her for the amount of attention she receives from Andracos – I think I’d go insane to be perfectly honest. One of the only pure Angels I’ve dealt with since I fell… oh god how I don’t miss them. I adore the girl, but her values, ideologies and beliefs would do my head in after a while. Pure Angel’s man, they have the tendency to drive anyone to drink. Oddly enough – not gonna lie, we’re kinda best friends; you can even ask her.”
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☺ ~
“If there were an award for the lurkiest lurker who ever lurked, Andracos would take the Nobel Lurk Prize for his outstanding lurking status. Great guy, when you’re not on the receiving end of his cane… or anything else of his… if you know what I mean… His... habits… if you will… aren’t any of my business and I make an effort to avoid them. But as far as friends go, Andracos is actually rather great (despite our history before the carnival – he was nice enough to forgive that). Scary at times, when he’s in a mood, it’s best to avoid him; but that’s on the very rare occasion and nine times out of ten, Pachid is there to calm him anyway. I’m rather glad I’m a part of his little entourage – I have a lot of fun running around with him and dealing with his antics and shenanigans.”
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺ ~
“Pachid and I… I think we find the most common ground with the fact we both run around after Andracos… There’s also the lazy aspect too. I love being able to just chill with him. There’s no stress, no problems no nothing – just because he’s too lazy to even feel those emotions… it’s amazing. Pachid’s laziness rubs off – I find myself getting so lethargic in his presence, he’s calming and really easy to talk to. I adore our friendship. We have fun, we muck around and we take next to nothing seriously. He’s a good guy and a loyal friend (when he’s awake)… but there have been the few times where his fatigue has become a drag… like that one time he was too lazy to go out and feed – so I was the next best food source; not the nicest thing to wake up to in the morning.”
Arina Lécuyer ~ ♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺♥☺ ~
“Me? Arina Lécuyer? The Arina Lécuyer? Well, well, well – why don’t you take a seat and I’ll tell you all about myself. Oh, this is my favourite part… where should I start? I know! We’ll start from the outside and work our way in, shall we? Well, I taller than short but shorter than tall – pretty much the perfect height. I have the most amazingly beautiful hair and it’s always perfect… I think I would have a panic attack if it weren’t. It falls to my mid-back and I normally keep it in soft curls (it frames my face nicely). My green eyes are vibrant and full of life, they complement my perfect features. I’m very happy with my frame, I’m skinny, but not too stick thin and I was blessed with a larger chest… if you know what I mean. Porcelain skin with no blemishes – I make an effort to look after my body.
Now, about me! I suppose we could start with my personality. I mean, I’m so well varied, I’m just plain amazing; no joke. I have my head screwed on straight and know exactly what I want and how to get it. Charismatic, I know how to talk my way in and out of things. Those who don’t like me, are generally really boring or they’re just plain ignorant. Hatred isn’t a trait I have time or effort for, there’s no point in hating people – I’m just indifferent. I’m always happy to help a friend and I can be pretty loyal when it comes down to it. Oh! I could go on for days! My sense of humour is in good taste and I always know where the line is (even though I might push that line to its maximum boundary) and I’ll always keep your best interests at heart. I’m kind, giving and caring – I never expect anything in return… just a generous person all in all. I could go on about myself for hours, but, unfortunately we don’t have that much time. Come along and talk to me one time, I’ll happily finish describing myself to you.”
Soren Novák ~ ☺ ~
“Unlike most of the carnival people here, I actually enjoy Soren’s company, he proves to be a good drinking partner and he’s fun to simply hang around. He has the same kind of mentality as me… we just don’t care – and it’s not simply out of lethargy either. He’s managed to help me get out of trouble on numerous occasions, and I generally try to help him with his practical jokes he tries to play on Stefan and Andracos.”
Reira Masin ~ ◑ ~
“Little naïve girl, is really the only title I have for her. She believes that saving the soul of her little brother will solve all the problems in her world… little does she know, they’ve only begun. I can guarantee you, by the time her sentence is served, her brother won’t be on her mind – she will have been warped into something like me… or Soren. That fragile look on her face makes me want to slap it off her – she’s far too judgemental of her comrades in this Carnival, and for putting herself up on that pedestal, she’ll have a harsh reality check when Andracos rips her off of it and lays her down in the dirt where she belongs.”
Stefan Bostock ~ ☺ ~
“He’s an egomaniac, an overbearing, arrogant asshole; a narcisstic, pessimistic, manipulative man. He only looks out for himself; he’s self-righteous, and he always acts like he’s ahead of everyone else – no one, so he believes, can keep up with him. It’s for this very reason, I’m drawn to Stefan. Not in that kind of way… there’s just something about him that makes me want to help him in his endeavour to know everything about everyone. I enjoy his company, it’s nice to be myself around someone who’s the same as me, if not, worse. He’s too manipulative for his own good, and he knows it. I’d like to call him a friend, but we both know that we’re only of use to each other for the benefit of information.”
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
“Who?”
Ty ~ ◑ ~
“Ah, the Air Elemental… or whatever the kids are calling it these days... I can never keep up with these hippy trends; next there’ll be elemental yoga instructors. Can’t particularly say I’m a fan to be perfectly honest. She reminds me of one of those emo kids – angsty and angry with the world… I know that’s not how she acts, but it’s just the gist I get from her. She bores me, which is the best way to say it. I don’t know her very well and I don’t really feel the need to get to know her – I’m indifferent and couldn’t care less. I’ll endeavour to help Andracos in his advances towards the girl… which I really do not understand… but it doesn’t really matter.”
Imalia of the Azure Ocean ~ ◑ ~
“Can’t say I’ve ever been her biggest fan, then again – I’ve never been such a big fan of Sirens. Blood thirsty bitch, I feel like she’s going to bite me at any moment like a freaking shark. Yeah, I don’t have much to do with her, and I’m not going to put any effort into her.”
Jing Lao ~ ◑ ~
“He’s really laid back – human, but less naïve than Reira. Can’t say I’ve ever really taken the time to get to know him – he hasn’t been here long. He seems coolish…”
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
“That new fire demon guy? Never spoken to him.”
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
Another Human, but this one seems to think he’s in the same league as us – laughable, he’ll be brought down eventually; I can just tell by his attitude.”
Angoriel ~ ◑ ~
“He’s weird. One of those Angels. The weird breed. Fallen angels probably have more purity than he does; yet he still stands on his high horse and condemns the likes of me and my tainted soul. I think he would have liked me better if I hadn’t have fallen… a lot of people would probably like me better if I hadn’t have fallen, but then again, I wouldn’t be here if that were the case. His whole existence is a contradiction… He’s a subconscious liar, and I don’t like it… I may be dishonest, but I don’t lie…”
Sarah Hiddle ~ ☠ / ◑ ~
“This is literally me before I fell. I don’t like her.”
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ◑ / ☺ ~
“I mean, she really likes me, and I guess she’s fun. She’s a little full on, but an adorable little Faerie regardless. I like her enough to try and keep Andracos from… destroying her… If it weren’t for that damned Genie, I’d have her wrapped around my finger.”
Genie ~ ☠ ~
“I actually nothing her. She’s not even worth my dislike. A wannabe girl who thinks she can manipulate anyone she wants – but she has to give them something in return. Ha! What a moron. She’s annoying and that bad girl attitude is wearing thin. She’s a dog, and nothing more. A runt born of a bitch. At least I only sell my lips in the kissing booth – she sells more. Yet, on the outside, we still seem to get along and we make a good pair for the booth… Although I’ll never admit I actually couldn’t see myself running the stall without her – nor will admit that I love to hate her… it’s kind of fun having a friendly rival…”
Robin ~ ◑ ~
“There’s not much to say about her… there’s not much of a personality for me to like. She’s just… there…”
Jayce ~ ◑ ~
“Righteous little prat sometimes – but when he hasn’t got a stick up his ass, he can be fun.”
- - - - - - - - - -
Appearance:
Age:
24 for 263 years
Gender:
Male
Species:
Vampire
Born Vampire
Control Over Thirst:
Thirst? Craving? I’ve yet to have a slip up since I was infantile.
Significant/Special Belongings:
To place significants behind an inanimate object requires far too much labour.
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Despite Pachid’s great advantage as a vampire, he simply does not retain the effort that is required to physically brawl. Permitting another to step in front and brawl on behalf of himself is highly regarded and if individuals allow not for such a thing, the chances that he’ll simply exit the scene without a second thought is lofty. Slothful he stands.
Nevertheless there have been and will be times in which Andracos either attracts or instigates a brawl that compels Pachid to enrol. Upon these times bringing themselves into existence one ascertains that Pachid is an exceedingly strategic fighter; scrutinizing how effortlessly and promptly an opponent can be defeated. Using his sharp eyes to observe any Achilles' heel, emotional distress and/or lack of focus Pachid will take advantage of any faults he observes. Tactical and ingenious in terms of fighting.
Weapon of Choice:
His vampiric abilities.
Job Title & Description:
The Dunkim’ (sits in the chair whilst others attempt to hit the target for him to fall into the water)
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
1 000 000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
400 years
What Was Your Wish?
To no longer be in need of frequent feeding - tone down the thirst because hunting often is far to troublesome
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
600 000
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
250 years
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
“To place significants behind collecting, specifically after willing going into dealership with Mr Seil is one contradictory and two requires far too much labour.”
Personality:
Reserved in demeanour Pachid has always been the most reasonable amongst the Andracos entourage. Within the group he is the least violent, and when other members fight he does not involve himself; more out of pure lethargy. Intelligent however far too slothful to make use of such a thing Pachid suffers from weariness far beyond the normal vampire. Lazy and unenthusiastic man who apparently spends much of his time asleep and no one, except Andracos, appears to try and stop him from doing so. Despite being a top ranking vampire Pachid would rather opt to slumber on a cloud over a physical activity, and if given the chance, he would sleep for the rest of eternity. Not particularly interested in the happenings around him, however surprisingly observant and a capable analyst. In comparison to the typical parasite of the night, he is not inherently violent or overly arrogant. He can be serious on occasion, although his personality does not change much; he comes off as reluctant, but nonetheless willing to complete the task at hand.
Biography:
A street rat living on the homeless Pachid knows not what his true name is and who is family are. Upon seeing Andracos as a source of food, Pachid attempted to feed off him. Predictably Andracos came out victorious however due to the decent fight the vampire had given him Andracos offered him a home, a name and a way of life. Extremely loyal, Pachid learnt more survival skills and due to the training of Andracos his skills excel far beyond; if only he made use of them – something Andracos continually makes sense not of.
Pachid was forced by Andracos to travel alongside him in his search of the Wish Master and upon discovering him again was forced by Andracos to go into contract with Mr. Seil. Pachid’s loyalty to Andracos convinced him enough and the deal was made.
Pachid Coyotas
♥ = romantic||☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ☺~
I quite like the man. He’s a great guy and frankly he’s dam good at his job. Ruthless, cunning, friendly, sarcastic, observant, intelligent, and a good sales man. I respect him a great deal and he deserves every ounce he gets. Enough said
Rosalina Bell Seil ~☺ ~
Arh Rosalina, she so cute and definitely not as naive as she pretends to be. Kind, sweet, beautiful beyond any angel I’ve ever met and known – she probably outshines them all. You don’t come across many females angels like that these days, least not that traditional. Though the fact that every corner she takes leads her into danger would get so tiresome, I don’t how Mr. Seil manages to continuously keep her safe. Though I don’t blame him for doing what he did, I mean, I’d do it to if I had the power.
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☺ ~
You know, it’s harder than you think to find someone who truly believes in your unmistakable, unconditional awesomeness. Well I did. Without doubt he’s downright and utterly insane and psychotic, sick and twisted, the guys a complete nutter. Poor guy didn’t even have a chance to be stable. His theatrics can get tiresome but usually amusing. I can count on the guy for anything. He’s taken the fall for my actions a few times, but I won’t get into that. You know that quote, sigh, how does it go… ‘a good friend will bail you out of jail but a best friend will be sitting next to you saying, ‘dam, that was fun.’’ Well, that’s Andracos.
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☺ ~
Eh. There are things I dislike about myself and things I like. I’m content with my flaws and my attributes. I’m not the gloating type so I’ll leave it there.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ☺ / ♥ / ☠ / ◑ ~
I’m not even going to bother with this one.
Soren Novák ~ ◑ ~
He’s a dick and a twat, that is all.
Reira Masin ~ ◑ ~
Who? Oh, the new human? Eh…
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑ ~
Not my kind of guy, he’s a little too manipulative for my tastes.
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
“Never heard of him, are you sure he even goes here?”
Ty ~ ☺ ~
I like her, cause she’s as cool as a cucumber. Calm and patient. My mind will never fully register just how she is made of air, but that’s Azure for you. If I wasn’t so lazy I’d go out of my way to actually spend time with the girl, but I’m not going to lie, I’m too lazy.
Imalia of the Azure Ocean ~ ◑ ~
“Isn’t she the fish girl? Eh, she has a nice voice, but I’ve never really made the effort to talk to her.”
Jing Lao ~ ◑ ~
“Is that the guy who looks like a girl?”
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
“I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
“Eh, never spoken to him.”
Angoriel ~ ◑ ~
“He’s not a terrible guy, our little entourage doesn’t have much to do with him, considering Andracos doesn’t really get along with him.”
Sarah Hiddle ~ ◑ ~
“She’s nice I guess… Do I have to keep answering these questions?”
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ◑ ~
“She’s nice, but she’s really full on.”
Genie ~ ◑ ~
“Oh woof, woof. Pretty sure she hates cause she’s racist. I don’t mind her but she does smell funky especially when she shifts.”
Robin ~ ◑ ~
“She’s a zombie…”
Jayce ~ ◑ ~
“Eh – are we done yet?”
- - - - - - - - - -
Appearance:
Age:
22
Gender:
Female
Species:
Human
Significant/Special Belongings:
A locket, given to her by her Mother
Fighting Skills/Techniques:
Reria has no previous knowledge of fighting – so she’d best run, should a confrontation take place.
Weapon of Choice:
A spatula or a frying pan?
Job Title & Description:
Not sure yet, she doesn’t really have any true talents.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect:
10 000 000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:
Unlimited
What Was Your Wish?
To bring her brother back from the dead.
How Many Souls Have You Collected?
0
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?
Less than a week
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
Reira refuses to collect souls from children under the age of twenty – she sees it as cruel and inhuman.
Personality:
Reira is a gentle soul – carefree, kind and generous. She’ll help anyone in need, even if she believes they are evil and ill-natured. She sticks by her beliefs and she’d even throw her life away if it meant saving a life. She’s weak hearted and refuses to brand the souls of children – she believes it to be cruel and inhuman; she looks down upon those who freely brand whomever they please, thinking them to be sick and sadistic.
Naive and easily deceived, Reira will try to see the best in people and bring it out, no matter how hard the task. She can be ditsy and airheaded, but she still holds her values dear and that’s all she cares about. She doesn’t like the idea of branding souls; however, she’d do anything to see her little brother smiling at her again, so she’ll put up with it.
Biography:
Reira was raised in the typical white picket fence neighbourhood – her, her younger brother, her mother and her father. Her Father was a doctor and her mother was a stay at home mother; both of them loved their children very much. She was an average student in High School, with average grades and still managed to get into a rather good University.
When she went away to study on campus, everything changed. She was a med-student, like her Father, and she was doing well – however, one day, she received news that her father had been killed in the war. She went home for the funeral decided to stay for a month to look after her mother and her brother. Six weeks later, her mother committed suicide, unable to stand a world without her husband. This forced Reira to move back home and look after her younger brother. He suffered from Leukaemia, and he was not well. Three years later, he passed away, sending her life into turmoil.
Depression took over and all she wanted to do was see her little brother’s smiling face once more – she was a wreck, until she went to a particular Carnival. Mr Seil came to her, offering her the chance to receive anything she wanted, and from there, she signed her freedom away – now determined to retrieve the soul of her little brother.
Played by CaughtInTheRiddle
Reira Masin
♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ◑ ~
“From what I’ve seen over the past couple of weeks, he’s a scary man who demands the immediate respect of others – and that’s what he gets…. No matter how he treats his subordinates. To be frank, I think he’s horrifying, and I’m not his biggest fan... what kind of a man holds such incredible power? It almost makes me doubt him… but my brother’s soul is on the line, and I can’t screw it up for him; so for now… he has my respect.”
Rosalina Bell Seil ~ ◑ ~
“I haven’t seen much of her, but from what I know she’s beautiful, and from what I hear, she was forced by Mr Seil to become his bride. She reminds me of a Disney princess, but more helpless than that.”
Andracos Soleviel ~ ☠ ~
“People have only advised me to stay away from him, and from what I’d seen, he’s very dramatic. I never really understood why they told me to keep away, he seemed nice – until I saw him rip the wings off a fairy before raping her. All I had wanted was to clear my head for a midnight walk, when I came across him… doing his… thing… I can’t believe Mr Seil allows such a thing to happen on this premises. What have I gotten myself into? The carnival of terror.”
Pachid Coyotas ~ ☠ / ◑ ~
“I’m undecided on this ball of lazy vampirism. From what I’ve seen, his lethargy has the tendency to act like a disease, plaguing those around him. I don’t like him solely for the fact, he follows Andracos around, covering for him whenever it’s necessary. I just don’t like him… there’s just something about drinking another’s blood that makes my skin crawl – can’t he just feed off animals or something?”
Arina Lécuyer ~ ☠ / ◑ ~
“She’s the most self-centred, immodest whore I’ve ever had the displeasure to come across. She doesn’t care for the feelings of anyone other than herself and she always seems to think herself better than others. Not to mention, she follows Andracos and Pachid around like she’ll get a threesome out of it.”
Soren Novák ~ ☠ / ◑ ~
“He tried to hit on me, and it didn’t stick. He’s arrogant, and greedy – not a good attribute in a man.”
Reira Masin ~ ◑ ~
“I just want my brother back.”
Stefan Bostock ~ ☺ ~
“I keep asking him to leave me alone, but he’s too interested in me. It seems Stefan is the only friend I have here. He’s easy to talk to, and I enjoy his company; he makes me feel better about my predicament. So far, one of the nicest people I’ve met at the Carnival.”
Vincent Nicolas ~ ◑ ~
“I’m sorry, I don’t know him.”
Ty ~ ◑ ~
“I haven’t had much to do with her, she seems rather nice, but a lot of the people at the Carnival are unapproachable, so I just stay out of her way.”
Imalia of the Azure Ocean ~ ◑ ~
“I’ve never spoken to her, but she scares me. She’s fake and murderous – someone I don’t ever want to get to know.”
Jing Lao ~ ◑ ~
“He’s a human like me and he’s been here only a few more weeks than I – he seems rather nice and laid back, perhaps we’ll get along rather well, considering our common ground.”
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑ ~
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ◑ ~
“I’ve seen him once, something about him scares me.”
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑ ~
“He’s been here for only a week longer than me, and I’m quite relieved to have another Human around. I haven’t really spoken to him, he seems a little rough around the edges – but I’d really like to get to know him.”
Angoriel ~ ◑ ~
“I don’t know him very well, but he seems nice – Stefan told me he has the tendency to be cruel, but he’s one of the nicer people at this carnival.”
Sarah Hiddle ~ ◑ ~
“She’s a typical angel, very likable – I obviously don’t know her, but I still like her.”
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ◑ ~
“She seems really nice.”
Genie ~ ◑ ~
“I don’t have much to do with her, but she’s like a dog version of Arina… in which case, I have no time for her.”
Robin ~ ◑ ~
“I can’t say I know her.”
Jayce ~ ◑ ~
“He seems like he could be a lot of fun.”
Appearance (Real Pictures Only):
Full Name: Imalia of the Azure Ocean
Age: 125 (Looks early twenties)
Gender: Female
Species: Traditional Siren
Most Used Attraction Power: Lust.
Significant/special belongings (if any): A hair comb and a small stone pendant.
Fighting skills/techniques (if any): Lures them into the water where she drowns them, uses her tail as a snake might its coils and also has claws which she lashes out with.
Weapon of choice (if any): Her Voice.
Job Title & Description: The exquisite but deadly siren of the black sea. She sings, she swims, she acts like a pretty mermaid in a typical circus combing her pretty hair and when given the room she can perform feats of acrobatics. Though her main purpose is to look pretty as a side attraction to the main events, one can, via signing a contract, swim with her at their own risk. Confidant to the performers.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 250
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: 250
What Was Your Wish? Freedom
How Many Souls Have You Collected? 55
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival? 55 years.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
She started out innocent, naïve as many of her kind may be considered to be but there was always something dark and mysterious about the siren. The collection of the souls has affected her little but the carnival has had a hugely negative impact upon her. Stripped her of compassion and morality, leaving her angered and hateful of the walking races.
Personality: Imalia is a curious woman, while she seems to emanate innocence and danger in equal folds she has a different personality for every person she meets. While working she plays the part of the innocent trapped victim, she’ll even cry on command of her dear sweet ring master. Though as the last patron leaves her true colours are revealed, she is a cold hard killer, there is little empathy or compassion left in this siren, living her life in a tank has left her cold to the mortals in particular. She listens, she is good at that and she speaks sweet few words save when she has to, preferring to communicate and seemingly able to, via gestures and looks. Though she does seem to have some saving graces, she seems to know how to love in her own cold-blooded way and she keeps secrets, be it for her own ends or out of genuine camaraderie.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?: Imalia was caught nigh on seventy years ago by a fisherman, she was, at the time a young naïve child who had wandered too far away from her fellows and was caught in turbulent waters which carried her to the fishing nets. The man who found her knew her worth and amidst cries to throw her back refused. He threw her in the hold which was filled with dead fish and saline and for several weeks she travelled this way, buffeted by storms and bad weather.
When she finally saw the light of day she was hoisted from the hold and hauled into a crate , the crew of the ship dead or having fallen over board and only the Captain, the one who had found her, still alive. He lived alone in a small house near a lighthouse and it is there he kept her in an iron tank filled with salt water. He made her sing for him and his wife grew more and more jealous of her and the love her husband felt for this unnatural creature that she attempted many times to kill the Siren or release her back into the sea, each time the Captain stopped her and Imalia stood an ‘innocent’. The final time was his wife’s last attempt and he found her, her lungs filled with salt water and her neck snapped on the floor not ten feet from the tank where his ‘mermaid’ swam lazily with a serenely innocent look on her face.
Not long after he put manacles into her tank, attaching their rings to the bottom and allowing her only enough freedom to pull herself to the top of her tank and look over the edge. He prayed for years for someone to come and take her away from him, for he hated and loved her in equal measure and could never bring himself to kill her, or himself. Such was the strength in the siren’s eyes and smile.
One day his prayers were answered and a man claiming to be the owner of a very special circus offered to take her away for him, for a price. The man readily accepted and only too late realised what kind of deal he had struck and as for the Siren, she was asked what her wish would be and she answered ‘freedom’ and that is how De’Seil Carnival got itself a siren.
Mr. Reficul Seil ~ ◑ ~
She made a deal with him, that is the extent of their relationship in her eyes. He asks her 'favours' and if in the mood she'll do them, it's a business arrangement.
Rosaline Bell Seil ~ ◑~
While if she fell into the lagoon and started drowning Imalia would not rush to save her she is somewhat important to Reciful and thus she won't go out of her way to kill her...yet.
Andracos Soleviel ~ ◑~
There are few people the siren would cry over if they died. Andracos isn't one of them.
Vincent Nicolas ~◑~
She knows the name though wouldn't be able to tell you who the hell they are.
Arina Lécuyer ~ ◑ ~
Wouldn't help if she was drowning.
Soren Novák ~◑~
Honestly don't care.
Pachid Coyotas ~ ◑~
Active when she is but aside the fact he seems to be one of the few laid back people around she has no strong feelings either way.
Reira Masin ~◑~
Singing for her will be fun but she isn't supposed to kill carnival workers...
Stefan Bostock ~ ◑ ~
Still don't care.
Ty ~ (Insert symbol from above) ~
It would be interesting if she turns blue under water, aside that she's nothing special.
Jing Lao ~◑~
Smells like a man, looks like a woman and Imalia honestly doesn't care either way.
Elynne Meidre ~ ◑~
Boring.
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~◑~
Interesting, perhaps.
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ◑~
Oh wings, drown it?
Angoriel ~ ◑~
Bored.
Sarah Hiddle ~◑
What?
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~◑~
Perhaps the only one the Siren would be a little upset to see die, the blue fairy brings her presents and compliments Imalia regularly, she rather likes the presents so it would be a shame to stop receiving them.
Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur ~ ◑~
Oh look, still not interested.
Robin ~◑~
Nope.
(Subject to change as she gets to know people IC)
Appearance:
*Note: I am fully aware this is a picture of a woman, this is just how feminine Lao appears.
Full Name: Jing Lao.
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Shifter
Base Animal: Jumping Spider
Base Animal Appearance:
Yeah, isn’t he cute?
Abilities: Agile, contortionist, can climb walls with ease, can produce and craft silk, slightly venomous bite.
Control Over Transformation: Moderate. Intense emotion force aspects of the change upon him doesn’t matter whether it’s a positive or negative emotional reaction.
Significant/Special Belongings: Silver hair sticks for his long hair.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: Bite and run, the bite is a paralysing and slow necrotic toxin (similar to a false widow) while the prey is immobilised he’ll run and climb up high out of sight.
Weapon of Choice: His fangs but he does abhor fighting…most of the time.
Job Title & Description: Tissue and steel ring act:- He performs at the top of the big top from two long lengths of crimson silk. He performs feats of acrobatics and stunning dexterity that will touch your heart before having it in your throat at a climatic finale.*1 Also performs in a steel hoop *2
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 150.
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls:15.
What Was Your Wish? A second chance, though he has failed to elaborate just what that means until he has collected all the souls.
How Many Souls Have You Collected? 1
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival? One month.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character? It hasn’t had a chance to yet.
Personality: While Lao appears quite effeminate and even feminine one could not say that he was not a gentleman, practising manners at all times and often in quiet contemplation even when all around him has erupted in chaos or noise. He chooses just the right moment and selects just the right words to say to alter a situation to his benefit, which is usually to diffuse any potential acts of violence. Why he isn’t a Buddhist in a traditional sense he does follow the traditions quite closely wherever possible and health wise reaps the benefits of doing so. He is rather laid back, allowing those around him freedom to be them without judgement or offence and as such he can be relaxing to be around. Of course if one does manage to push the silk spinner a little too far he is liable to snap and the angry side of him is not one that is pleasant to view. He is happy to talk to anyone and quite at ease with his place both in the carnival and in life.
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?: Lao lived in a poor village in China, he spent his youth with a travelling band of performers, most of which were his family, attempting to raise enough money for food and education. They lived a simple life and got by well enough but when a tsunami washed away both his home and his family Lao was left an orphan albeit at an age where one could manage to survive in such a way. On the way to an interview with a circus he bumped into someone at the train station, they stood in silence for the twenty minutes until the train approached where upon the stranger threw himself in front of the train.
This incident left a lasting impression on Lao and while he missed his appointment with one circus he found another and applied there, directly with a Mr. Seil who offered Lao any wish he could desire. Lao did not know what to think but with only one image burned into his memory he asked for a second chance, though asked for what Lao asked that he may not answer until the contract was filled on his side.
*1 Tissue Act Link http://www.talents-productions.com/male-tissue-act/#prettyPhoto
*2 Hoop Act Link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91KerBkC7vM
Mr. Reficul Seil ~☺~
The man who gave him a chance, he rather likes the man, strict as he might be he's fair and in his own way rather kind to boot. He would never betray Mr. Seil.
Rosaline Bell Seil ~☺~
A beautiful little doll, while he honestly doesn't understand the reaction most of the men have towards the girl he certainly enjoys her company and thinks her a dear friend.
Andracos Soleviel ~☺~
A rather grumpy man by all means but Lao believes there is good in everyone. Even if that good in this case is buried deep deep deep down in a place so small and dark even Andracos isn't aware of it.
Vincent Nicolas ~☺~
He seems rather... far be it for Lao to say anything bad about a person though he is sure with more time spent with him they may one day be able to be friends.
Arina Lécuyer ~☺~
A rather feisty woman but pleasant enough when caught in the right mood.
Soren Novák ~♥~
Such a darling he is and such a wonderful ability with the ladies, why Lao isn't sure who to be more jealous of, Soren or the ladies he woo's. He may have a little crush.
Pachid Coyotas ~☺~
There is something pleasant about Pachid even if they spend very little time together, perhaps its the similarly relaxed aura around the man that attracts him.
Reira Masin ~☺~
An interesting girl, rather sweet to be working in such a place and as such he's taken it somewhat upon himself to keep an eye on her whenever possible.
Stefan Bostock ~☺~
While Lao can not truly understand why a person would proclaim to 'know all' he is still pleasant enough to be around and his stories are entertaining if nothing else.
Ty ~☺~
While sarcasm isn't his preferred form of comedy the little lady is sweet and kind enough to off set that, they both seem to care genuinely for Rosalind and in such have a bond.
Imalia ~☺~
A rather scary creature but undeniably beautiful and when she sings his heart weeps for his lost family, though he dares not listen too long or too closely lest he fall into her world.
Elynne Meidre ~ ☺~
He hasn't realyl seen much of the woman but her shows are always entertaining, even if her personality is less so.
Aurelianus "Antoine" Anterioris ~ ☺~
Poor thing, Lao has contemplated inviting the man for tea and cake under the moonlight so he can air out the worries he clearly has but it seems awfully nosy so he keeps an eye on the man to make sure he's okay.
Llewelyn Rorch ~ ♥~
Mother be still his beating heart, what a handsome looking man he is, though Lao knows better than to judge a book by it's attractive cover. He can not help but feel like Llewelyn is somewhat avoiding him though, perhaps Lao ought to rectify that...for the good of the carnival of course.
Angoriel ~☺~
Rather intimidating but always cuts a rather lonely shadow at the circus, Lao will make it his mission to get the other to socialize a little more.
Sarah Hiddle ~☺ ~
Pretty little sweet that she is, though not quite on the same level as Rosalind or Reira.
"JaSi", Blueberry Moon of the Jassesi Orchard ~ ☺ ~
There are no words. So energetic and always trying to be helpful, though occasionally a little over the top.
Genvieve L'Ame-Soeur ~ ☺~
Robin ~ ☺~
Such an interesting girl although a little tough to be around at times. Hopefully he'll get to know her more and get passed his natural aversion to the stitching. Of course if she ever wanted silk threads to manipulate she only has to ask.
Tattoo's appearance.
General Appearance.
Full Name: Loreley (Lore-ah-lie) Cazares. Aka: Hex
Age: 60
Gender: Female
Species: The Risen.
Most Used Power: Fog.
Significant/Special Belongings: Hidden Amulet, her ankh.
Fighting Skills/Techniques: She prefers to be considered defensive rather than offensive, meaning she will deploy one of her 'spells' to avoid situations where she has to fight. If they are ineffective she knows basic Systema and prefers a pair of short daggers akin to sai.
Weapon of Choice: Her 'spells'.
Job Title & Description: Cigarette girl & 'the wall'. Her job is to serve those who come to ring side from her cigarette box, usually in the form of confectionery and fruits. Her secondary function when called upon is to create a barrier between would be aggressors and those in the carnival, calling forth frog, rain or snakes to form a 'wall' around their domain.
Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 35,000
Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: 4000.
What Was Your Wish? To be free of her hunger.
How Many Souls Have You Collected? 100.
How Long Have You Been at the Carnival? 12 years.
How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?
While one would be hard pressed to call her soulless she has spent her unlife in servitude of the one who made her doing all manner of things in the name of that master. It is not pleasant work for her but she can not help but envy those who she forms bargains with, who still get to live their lives. It has, in reality, been too short a time to say how it's affected her.
Personality: WIP
Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?: WIP
Notes:
She dislikes fire, the 'z' word,
She speaks 4 languages, English, Egyptian (form the days of the Pharaohs), Hebrew and Latin.
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