EchoicChamber

Moved Over to Casual

@Prosaic Approved!

Moved Over to Casual

Gael

Full Name: Níðhöggr

Nicknames/Aliases: Gael, Gale Eden, Striker of Malice

Age: Ancient. The form that Gael prefers to take in the realm of man looks to be roughly six or seven years old.

Gender: Male

Powers:
- While Gael prefers his more human body, his true form is that of a dragon. If he wished, he could revert to this form at will, and carries a few telltale traits of what he truly is in his avatar.

- Can sense the sin carried within a body, and feasts upon the corpses of sinners for energy.

- Difficult to kill permanently. Cannot feel pain.

Description:
In his humanoid form, Gael takes the appearance of a rather beautiful young boy, with large chocolate-brown eyes and soft blond curls that reach his chin. His build is slight and waifish, often swallowed up by pastel-colored coats several sizes too big for him. The demon also displays a remarkable fondness of bows- bows on his coat, bows on his boots, and a large bow tied neatly around his throat. His pockets are often swollen to the brim with candies and sweets, and it is a very rare occasion for the boy to be found without the stem of a lollipop poking from the corner of his mouth.
There are a few...unsettling aspects to him, however. Like the sharpness of his teeth. Or the claws that can protrude from his fingers at his whim, easily parting the flesh in their escape.

Níðhöggr

His form as the Malice Striker is far more abhorrent. A giant wyrm, with teeth and claws capable of ripping through flesh and bone with ease. Dark scales cover his body, and a pair of wings jut out from his back.

Personality:
On the surface, Gael seems to be a polite, if not a bit overly formal and stiff, young boy. He expresses a genuine fascination with the mortal realm and its inhabitants, and enjoys playing games and learning. However, given what he really is, Gael’s nature is quite malevolent. He experiences little to no emotions, and, while he possesses an understanding of it, his own grasp of morality is shaky at best. This leads him to be incredibly manipulative and cruel at times, especially when striving towards his ambitions. The almost childlike curiosity and fascination he regards the world with only worsens this.

Skills:
- Can wield a knife..

- Has picked up a few tricks in his lifetime.

- Talented at insulting a certain eagle.

Weaknesses:
- His inability to feel pain or the full spectrum of emotions is not necessarily a good thing, as Gael is naturally reckless and aloof as a result.

- While difficult to kill permanently, Gael can be sent back to his domain after suffering enough damage.

- For the most part, Gael is led by his whims, and will occasionally be known to help enemies that he’s taken an interest in. In short, he is very much a wildcard.

- Due to spending most of his life among the roots of Yggdrasil or Niðafjöll, Gael’s grasp of how the world works is flimsy at best. At the moment, he’s spending much of his time wandering about when not searching for criminals and others..

Brief History:
From below the dragon
dark comes forth,
Nithhogg flying
from Nithafjoll;
The bodies of men
on his wings he bears,
The serpent bright:
but now must I sink.

It’s unsure of when and how Níðhöggr was first born- it’s doubtful that the wyrm himself remembers after so long. All that is known about his origins is the countless millennia that he has spent gnawing on the roots of Yggdrasil, quarreling with the eagle sat at the top of the world tree, and feasting on corpses in Náströnd. Upon the Children of Loki’s attempt to start Ragnarok, Gael was able to crawl out into the mortal realm in the form he carries now.

The pause of the End’s progress has taken him by surprise, but it hasn’t bothered Gael too much. In his eyes, Ragnarok will come regardless, and, if the prophecies are true, he will live through the largest feast and then some.

Until that time comes, he is quite content to wait.

Other:
- Has a massive sweet tooth, and will often loot candy from unsuspecting victims.
- Unconsciously craves companionship.

Moved Over to Casual

I decided to move this RP to Casual due to it likely fitting better there. Sorry for the trouble!

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

La Buitre

Los Angeles- The Unnamed Bank.

@Chiro@ClokwerkDukk@thewizardguy

---

“You know who I am!” Even over the distance that seperated La Buitre from her opponent, it wasn’t particularly difficult to pick up on the sheer, unbridled glee in her voice, or the fact that she was practically bouncing on the spot. “It is very nice to meet you, Mr. Gimmi- I mean, um.”

A pause. She cleared her throat. She had to be serious. A very serious, intimidating hero. When La Buitre next spoke, she had deepened her voice, and had made it sound all gravelly. Like Batman. Though she didn’t sound like Batman. She sounded like a fifteen year old girl making a very bad imitation of Batman, but being as grave about it as if the playboy himself.

“It would be nice to meet you, but because you are the bad guy and you are trying to rob the bank, it is not very nice to be meeting you.” She gave a firm, decisive nod, planting her fists against her hips. Then, fists still against her hips, proceeded to bow deeply in response to Mr. Gimmick.

“Mr. Transplan- oh! I am sorry that I did not recognize you. If you would like, you can talk to the La Buitre that was killed then, because I am sure that she would love to talk to you. You will have to stop robbing the bank, though. And it is okay! I also-”

Given that she was still striking her pose, La Buitre was unable to raise her hands in time to catch the mask thrown at her, though another pair of pale hands caught the thing a foot away from the girl’s face.

“Hey! Wait! I am supposed to be catching you!” She began to bolt after the supervillain- admittedly, not at the most impressive of speeds- though her attempt at a chase was cut short by one of the walls blasting in, a bit of rubble hitting her in the torso and knocking the wind out of her. Not, luckily, doing any more of that, of course. The armor in her costume did its job well.

Patting her chest a little, La Buitre straightened, turning to see that another supervillain had burst into the bank. Her eyes widened. Two bad guys? This would be very, very tricky, indeed. She shot a glance over to the door, relieved to see that Mr. Gimmick hadn’t taken the chance to run off, then cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted over.

“I am okay!” Then, after a moment of thought, she acted, summoning a new batch of ghostly hands to clamp down on Mr. Gimmick’s ankles. If they managed to get a good grip, they would promptly drag his ankles out from underneath him, pulling him into the air and leaving him upside down. A few more ghosts swept out throughout the bank, checking on the civilians, sweeping away rubble.

To someone unfamiliar with La Buitre, it would seem as if she was particularly excellent at multitasking.

To someone who knew the hero, they would know it was more along the lines of having her own, particularly competent, team behind her.

Clearing her throat, La Buitre turned to the new supervillain, though not exactly all the way. She still had to keep her eyes on Mr. Gimmick, after all. “I am sorry, Dr. Science, but you can not be having the bank all to yourself! If the people can not go to this bank, then they will have to go to one that is farther away! And I do not think that all of the people here own the cars, so they would be having to walk, which means that it would be very diffi-”

A sharp eye might have noticed a hand appear beside La Buitre and gently, but firmly, nudge the girl in the ribs before disappearing. A sharp ear might notice her whisper what seemed to be an apology before returning to her usual volume.

“You will not get away with this, because I am La Buitre, and I am here to fight the bad guys!” With a dramatic flair of the hand, another swarm of ghosts swept out. Faces with pitless eyes and gaping mouths rushing at the good Doctor, hands grabbing at the contraption, at his limbs, rushing for the drones.

The bank was swarming, churning, the air alive with ghosts.

It seemed as if what La Buitre had in power and supply, she lacked in actual strategy.

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

La Buitre

Los Angeles- The Unnamed Bank.

@Chiro@ClokwerkDukk

La Buitre. Bruja. Maneater. “That Bitch”.

These were all her titles to claim, and ones she wore with pride. And why shouldn’t she? It was by her hands that criminal after criminal had been detained, or otherwise taken care of. When she swept through, she was a tidal wave of pure, unbridled spiritual energy, decimating those who dared to step into her path.

She feared no one. She was a force of nature.

And as she watched the villain burst into the bank, she thought of how easy it would be to make him pay for putting innocent lives at risk.

Unfortunately for her, however, she was quite dead.

Salbatora Lea Ciervo’s time had long since come and passed. And what a whirlwind of a time it had been! If there was still breath in her lungs, she would have sighed. She had accomplished so much, and went out with a bang; a very literal one, to say the least. A supervillain had planted a bomb inside the stomach of a civilian, and in her attempt to rescue them, she had died alongside them. She had been lucky enough to have bore not just one, but two children before her death- a set of twins- and had left the world without any regrets, but there were times where the nostalgia set in and left her entire being feeling hollow.

Nevertheless, now was not the time for reminiscing. Her eyes turned towards her niece, who was currently trying to sneak up to the bank’s front entrance, despite the fact that she wore the most eye-catching costume known to man.

Sweet Esperanza. The girl was capable of so much. The power that thrummed through her veins was the same that had flooded Sal’s when she had lived, honed and whittled from its raw matter until it was the sharpest of blades. If she could just work up the will to use it fully, then-

“STOP!”

Well. At the moment, Esperanza had a...bit of a ways to go. Though no matter how long it took, both Sal, as well as the rest of the family, would be there to support her all the way.

---

If someone had somehow gone without noticing the brightly-clad figure bursting through the doors of the bank, or their shout, they would most certainly notice the sudden drop of temperature. What had been the normal amount of chill that got pumped out of the AC of every bank known to man had taken a sharp downturn, turning breath into mist and raising goosebumps left and right.

“I have come to stop you from robbing this bank Mr...Mr...I do not know what your name is, but I am here to stop you and capture you!” The figure’s voice was stilted, awkward, heavily accented, but determined nonetheless. It- or, rather, she- attempted to throw a pose, dramatically thrusting a hand towards the sky, though the sheer vigor of the movement caused her to stumble a bit.

It did seem to accomplish something, however. Multiple sets of ghostly hands would appear to suddenly materialize, reaching for different parts of Mr. Gimmick. Two pairs had appeared at the gun, attempting to yank it downwards and out of his hands, and others still rushed forward to grab at his limbs and hold them still.

If they made contact, one would notice that the hands would feel about as warm as blocks of ice, despite feeling just as what they seemed- hands. Disturbingly human hands, some with missing fingers or parts to them.

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

La Buitre

Name:
Esperanza Rosalind Ernesta Ciervo

Superhero Identity:
La Buitre

Age:
15

Nationality:
Mexican

Location:
Depends. La Buitre has been venturing primarily into the southern States with the help of a portal-creating cultist, allowing her to work far from home without having to stay with complete strangers. She is still a minor, after all. Lately she’s found herself in some cities more often than others.

Appearance:


Clocking in at 5’3”, Esperanza is a girl of slim, almost twiggy build, with tan skin and wide black eyes. Her hair is a deep brown, dark enough to border on black in color, and falls to just a little ways above her shoulders. Her face is heart shaped, and while she might be able to blend into a crowd, a few key quirks of hers keep that from happening too easily.

Namely, the fact that her right pinkie finger, and several of her toes, have been amputated right down to the knuckle, and that she has a tangle of ink across her wrists, arms, and back. The sleeve tattoos are designed in such a way to resemble the feathers of a bird, and her back sports a pair of pitch black wings. Due to her regular wounds on her arms, she tends to bind them in gauze, which also help to hide them when she needs to go incognito. When going about her everyday life, she typically wears a variety of multicolored blouses, long-ankle length skirts, and loafers.

La Buitre’s outfit is particularly theatrical. It seems to be modelled after a bird in design; several pieces, such as her sleeves, hood and cape, are crafted from a featherlike material. The sleeves are long and hanging, going past Esperanza’s wrists, giving a resemblance to wings. Despite the name of “The Vulture”, however, the color is nothing like that of the bird. The hood and cape- the latter of which- reaches just to the base of her spine, is purple and yellow, patterned with marigold blossoms. The armor over her chest (which itself conceals bulletproof protection, something added to the outfit after one unfortunate Daughter was shot multiple times through the chest) is decorated under ruffled white fabric, patterned with blooming pink flowers around her collar and shoulders, her leggings are also pink, and her gloves and boots are both black. No one Vulture’s outfit is alike- each having a particular color scheme, though the cape stays the same.
Her mask, like those who came before her, is designed after a sugar skull. Black painted over the nose, and in deep circles around the eyes. Jagged, criss-crossing lines running from cheek to cheek across the mouth, giving the appearance of teeth. Most of the detailing is done in shades of red, pink, and black, with the rest being left the same bone white as her skull.

Personality:
While Esperanza’s system of beliefs may be considered rather morbid, to say the least, the girl herself is surprisingly sweet. A lifelong isolation from the rest of the world led to her growing up, while not unintelligent, lacking in the department of street smarts. She views the world with a sort of wide-eyed optimism, utterly fascinated with the wonders that life presents to her, and is consequently quite the cheerful young lady. Even when speaking with strangers, she’ll behave as if they were a good friend of hers, affectionate and enthusiastic.

However, given that she hails from a death-worshipping cult, she isn’t without her eccentricities. She has a difficulty grasping some social norms, such as when a topic may be inappropriate to discuss, or innocently speaking a bit too much of her mind. She regularly sacrifices small animals in the name of death itself, views her spirits as family, and is generally somewhat...odd. Esperanza is aware of this to some point, which, combined with her friendliness, leads her to be somewhat eager to please.

La Buitre is no better. Despite her strength, she tends to come off as rather unintimidating. She loudly declares her intent to stop “the bad guys”, strikes cheesy poses, and her attempts to do cool stunts often fall flat. She tries her best to follow in the footsteps of some of the more intimidating Daughters before her, but given her kind nature, and her innocent viewpoint of the world, it’s hard for her to do that.
It hasn’t been uncommon for her to patch up both superheroes and villains alike, or apologize for being too rough in a fight.

While La Buitre is slow to anger, however, she’s incredibly loyal to her allies and friends, and protective of them and both the citizens she is meant to guard. While insults against her person are shrugged off, or merely upset her, innocents or her friends being on the line is an entirely other story. If they are put in danger, she will step up with surprising passion to help them…

...Even if she feels bad afterwards for hurting people.

Backstory/Origin:
Esperanza’s origins are a bit different than most others. Instead of being an odd spot in a family of humans, hers is a family where magic runs as thick as their blood. They claim to have existed since the Mayans had been thriving, and while this might be dubious to some, they do have evidence of having come into play a long time ago. The Ciervos aren’t known just for being old, however. Based in rural Mexico, they are known for being a cult of death-worshippers, led by La Hijas de la Muerte: Daughters of Death. There have been rumors of ritualistic human sacrifice and cannibalism in their past, and while there is no evidence to back this up in the present, there are enough oddities about them that their name is a bit muddied.

The cult is surprisingly quite sizable for the times, and is led by a primarily matriarchal society led by La Hijas de la Muerte: The Daughters of Death. As the name would imply, the Daughters are a group made up of exclusively female necromancers chosen as young girls from the Ciervo line, who are seen as the leaders and guardians of the cult. It is their job to organize and perform the various sacraments, rituals and ceremonies the cult performs in the name of their Lady Death, overlook and make decisions, tend to the bodies within the public crypt, and protect their community from harm.

The Ciervos began the tradition of La Buitre, or The Vulture, for multiple reasons. The first was in an effort to clear up their name a tad. By sending a member of theirs to work as a superhero, they hoped that the concept of them being villainous would be faded out of the minds of the general populace. The second was that it served as good training for the Daughters, with the title being passed from one to the other as they retire to have families and attend to the cult itself. The third was that it might serve as good PR for their religion, encouraging new members to join.

Esperanza was merely a young child when her powers began to develop, and was whisked away shortly after to reside with the other Daughters. While tutored in the basics of learning, most of her education was based around her powers, the responsibilities of her position, and the preparation of cadavers and celebrations. While allowed to roam the grounds of the cult and visit family, most of her time was spent in the crypts. It was a life that Esperanza was content with, and one that she treated with uttermost honor, though she was certainly lonely.

When it was announced that she was to be the next in line to be a superhero, Esperanza was thrilled. Eager to explore the world, prove herself, and help people, she’s happily taken up the mantle.
She isn’t exactly the most impressive superhero out there so far, but she does try her best.

Tools/Equipment/Weapons:
Body Armor: Something incorporated within her costume, this keeps her from being taken out instantly by a shot to the head or chest. It doesn’t make her invincible by any means, but it does let a rather small teenage girl be somewhat more sturdy in a fight.

Knives: La Buitre has a collection of ritual knives, though she doesn’t really use them in fights.

Medical Equipment: Esp is outfitted with equipment such as disinfectant, needle and thread, painkillers, and other such things.

Skills:
Medical Knowledge: A lifetime of working with the dead and stitching them up has given her a decent knowledge of anatomy, as well as how to stitch up wounds.

Pain Tolerance: Esperanza is good at handling pain.
For good reason.

Abilities/Powers/Mutations:
Necromancy:
La Buitre’s main power. Esperanza is remarkably strong for someone her age. This is partly thanks to the fact that the Daughters purposefully have children with other users of magic to have more capable children, and partly due to the training Esp was given since she was a young girl.
- Corporeal: Esp can quite easily raise the dead, though less in the sense of “bringing one back to life”, and more in the sense of “creating shambling masses of bodies”. It’s far easier for her to direct mindless corpses than it is for her to direct sentient spirits, and she can raise a good number of them at once. However, this is hampered by a few things.
Namely, the fact that most bodies are buried deep underground- meaning it would take some time for them to crawl their way up-, the fact that corpses don’t tend to conveniently be lying around for her to use, and the fact that she views reanimating corpses without their owners’ permission as “disrespectful”.
- Incorporeal: This ability is far more immediately useful, and a power put to near constant use. La Buitre is surrounded by the lingering ghosts of dead cult members and relatives, who she affectionately refers to as part of the family. They can take on an appearance, as well as a somewhat physical form, by tapping into Esperanza’s energy, and Esperanza in turn can direct them. The range in which her ghosts can go depends on the number she has “active”; she can effectively use one or two spirits as scouts, sending them out at roughly a hundred yard radius all around, though the range only gets smaller and smaller a she makes more, unless she wishes to push herself. Additionally, while her ghosts are taking physical forms, they can be dispelled through physical means. This keeps them from taking physical form for a few seconds.
However, the ghosts are still very much sentient. While she can instruct them, and they will often follow, it isn’t uncommon for them to act on their own terms. This is something that gets worse the more ghosts she actively calls to aid her. Given the fact she often calls entire swarms of ghosts to her aid when in distress, and that these spirits are motivated to protect her, this can be somewhat disastrous. If unable to reign them in, Esperanza’s spirits will behave in a way similar to a beehive: turning aggressive and hostile, lashing out at the offender with far more violence than La Buitre ever uses.
There is also a particularly noticeable weakness to her power, on top of those mentioned before: her sheer dependence on it. Behind her waves of undead, La Buitre is, at the end of the day, a small teenage girl. She has no real combat skills, relying on her ghosts and corpses to fight for her. If you can get past her magic, it is almost pitifully easy enough to overtake and subdue her.

Miscellaneous: La Buitre knows a few other basic spells, and while having some skill at warding against evil and ghosts, and a grasp of magic of the blood, she’s by no means a master.

The Academy of Evil

Aristide made no real effort to hide the way his eyes roved about the stranger as he approached, taking in the scar, the build, the height. He made no effort to respond, either, letting the words just hang in the air with no real rush to respond to them. It was only when he was satisfied with his little assessment that he shifted a little, turning his hand to inspect the length of his nails.

“I am, yes. I’m assuming you must be one, yourself, going around asking about it.” His wrist lowered, one dark brow lifting in time with the movement. “And you are…?”

The stranger had, admittedly, sparked a sort of low interest in him. It wasn’t much, really- the sort of feeling you might find when something caught your eye in a shop window- but it was there, and it was enough to keep him from dismissing the fellow and going off to find wherever the hell the dorms were, so they wouldn’t have to keep lugging their things around with them. The scar, as well as the build of the boy, implied strength. Experience. It was the eyes, however, that betrayed where that experience came from.

It was curious.

@The Narrator

---

To say that Library wasn’t particularly enthralled by this whole situation would be an understatement. The look in her brother’s eyes told her that he had found something to amuse himself with for at least a good couple of minutes, though a conversation about his particular major wasn’t exactly riveting She gave a brief nod to the boy that had approached them, but chose to let Aristide take the reigns of this situation, entirely quiet. Even if she wanted to say anything, he would likely just force himself back into the center of attention anyway.

As usual.

She stood there for a moment, watching Ari talk, then slipped away from his side, footsteps remarkably silent against the auditorium floor.

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

Oh, dang, just took a look through this forum, and realized there's some familiar faces here from hundreds of years ago. I'm tempted to join, since it's been a good while since I've been in anything superhero-y. I have a few questions, but since you mentioned that you're on the road, @Count Cuddles, I'd be willing to hold off on pestering until there's a better time.

The Academy of Evil

The pair had taken to leaning against the back wall of the auditorium when the headmistress delivered the speech, listening with differing levels of interest as their eyes swept the room. The way that Aristide crossed his arms over his chest, lip curled, practically screamed to the world that he wasn’t especially impressed. It was a carefully constructed look, a position of the body that declared that all the agency of his self was his, that he was a master of his own fate and his own being. It was a voice of power.

Perhaps, in some way, there was some truth to it. They were entirely on their own, after all. For the first time, they were far from home, entirely in control of themselves; unless you counted the staff of the school, which Aristide didn’t.

Library seemed to grant more respect to the situation, back straight and shoulders squared, though her eyes betrayed her disinterest. As the headmistress finished, she stepped closer to her brother, voice barely a whisper.

“I guess that means that we’re supposed to figure out where we’ll be staying on our own, then.”

“Well, it seems like she wants us to just have us a nice little Lord of the Flies…thing here, so I’m not surprised.” Aristide’s tone was just as his body suggested: bored. However, as the words left his mouth, the curled lip formed a half-smile, and he straightened up a bit. “In which case, I’m afraid you won’t last very long at all, Libby dear.”

“Thanks for your voice of confidence.” She paused. Her shoulders seemed to twitch a bit. “Lord of the Flies, published on September 17th, 1954, was William Golding’s first novel. During a wartime evacuation, a British aeroplane crashes on or near an isolated island in a remote region of the Pacific Island, with the only survivors being a group of young prepubescent boys. The boys then-” Library gave a stifled noise, rapidly snapping her fingers, then quieted.

Aristide just rolled his eyes. “Absolutely helpless. Just stay close. They’ll eat you alive if they get the chance.”

“I’m not a five year old, you know.”

“Then act like it.”

“Says the person who broke a chair during a temper tantrum.”

That managed to get Aristide’s smile to tighten a bit. “Just shut up. Let’s go find some other…” He waggled his fingers. “Munchkin to associate ourselves with.”

Rolling her eyes, Library followed after her brother as he left the wall, and the two began their search for company.

The Academy of Evil

Aristide Memoli

Name:
Aristide Pietro Memoli

Alias:
Ari (mostly by Library)

Age:
17

Gender:
Male

Physical Appearance:


The first thing one might notice about Aristide is that, in spite of his personality, he isn’t hideous. Standing at 5’11”, his build is that of one who has spent time building it through exercise and conflict. He’s lean, with pale skin, sharp turquoise eyes, and luxurious black hair grown out to his tailbone. Aristide has a penchant for half-smiles or smirks, or pursing his lips in a look of general disdain or disgust.
The second thing one might notice about him is just how gaudy he is.
From the fur coats he leaves hanging casually from his shoulders, to the glimmering rings on his finger, to the amulets, the necklaces, the bracelets, the anklets, the countless amounts of glittering and shiny things he keeps woven in his hair, one can easily tell he has no problem flaunting his wealth. Even his leather boots and pants scream of expense, and his shirts seem carefully chosen so they could be left open enough to show the peak of his chest.

Personality:
Bold. Brash. Flamboyant. Aristide is all that his sister isn’t and more. There’s a certain flair to how he speaks and conducts himself, and he seems to demand the attention of whatever room he enters, regardless of who might be company. On top of that, he’s terribly arrogant, with a thirst for violence, and a streak of vanity that runs a mile wide. Cruel. Temperamental. He isn’t the most likeable person as a baseline, though he can muster up some charisma if he puts his mind to it.
Despite his astounding list of negatives, however, he does have soft spots for those he cares about. While he insults and berates his sister on a regular basis- a favor quite often returned- he can often be found checking in on her and fussing over her health. Whether this softness extends to anyone outside of the family is yet to be seen.

Bio:
The Memoli family is a rather infamous one, being long-lived, primarily Mafia-based, and originating from Italy itself. With their use of illusory and mental magic, they carved out a name for themselves of an organization not to be taken lightly, but still makes for loyal and valuable allies. As one might imagine, this reputation places great expectations upon the members of the family, with the pressure weighing on their backs even through childhood.

Elizabeth and Aristide weren’t the only children that their parents had- in fact, they have quite a few siblings- but they are the youngest. While the heir of the line, their eldest brother Darrien, is expected to take over the head of the family business, the rest of the children are to be the “limbs” of the organization. Each child was put through particularly grueling training to see where their skills and weaknesses lie, and from there, are groomed to best blossom in the role that would best suit them. Library is to be primarily the Broker of the family, and Aristide the brute- or, as Blackwood might put it, the Psycho.

Neither sibling seems to particularly enjoy talking about their family much, though both seem resigned to their role.

Major:
Psycho

Classification:
Minion

Powers:
Fear Manifestations: Aristide has the power to sense the vulnerabilities of a person, and exploit them. If someone has a fear of spiders, he can create the illusion of spiders crawling onto them, or burrowing into their flesh. It takes time to construct realistic illusions, however, or ones that one cannot easily break out of. This, however, has a work-around: by enchanting items and embedding them, he can create long-lasting, terribly vivid hallucinations- even creating feelings of paranoia and fear- that end only when the items are removed. The more items he plants, additionally, the worse and more firmly-rooted the hallucination can be. These items could be arrows or knives, though Aristide prefers to use hat pins for no real reason other than aesthetic purposes.

Mundane Skills:
- Training: Aristide can shoot a gun, wield a knife, escape restraints, and has an unsettlingly high tolerance for pain. Unlike his sister, he also has skill in hand to hand combat, preferring to get up close and personal in a fight rather than fight from afar.
- Styling: Given how prideful he is about his hair, Aristide is an excellent hairstylist.

Equipment:
- An assortment of hatpins, enchanted and not.
- So much jewelry. So much.
- A variety of weapons, such as a pair of brass knuckles.

Other:
- Becomes filled with rage if silenced, or otherwise kept from speaking against his will.

After ten thousand years, my terrible, angry character is finished.