It seemed that she was the first to arrive, other than the apothecary themselves. The platform was deserted aside from the two of them and Sasha didn’t know enough about the Darklight station to know if that was usual or not. She didn’t think it was, somehow, but what did she know?
Her footsteps echoed lightly in the expanse as she approached the old woman, trying to give off the impression that she was more confident than she felt; the image was ruined somewhat, but the slight flinch she made with every step. She wasn’t used to her movements making so much noise and it bothered her, to disturb the peace of this place.
The old woman, Yiya, addressed her when she was close enough that it was obvious why she was here. Sasha listened along, glancing at the terrarium when it was brought up, then staring at it as she realised what it was; a huge mechanical thing with legs that carried a small microcosm of nature within its glass body. The hunter had never seen anything like it. The girl was startled out of her reverie when Yiya asked her to sit with them and wait, and tell them her story.
Sasha didn’t sit. She shuffled her feet instead, adjusting the straps of her bags on her shoulders and looked down at the ground in between them. “I’m Sasha. I… I’m here to help with…” The machine? Like Yiya said? No, she had no idea what to do with something like that. “I saw the notice. You need… an escort? I’m here for that. I’m good at finding my way.”
She lapsed into silence then, her introduction made. Soon enough a feeling of awkwardness crept in, like she should keep talking, or do something to break the silence. Or at least not just keep standing there. Making her decision, Sasha lifted the bag from her shoulder, long and narrow, and laid it on the floor next to the blanket; her father’s rifle, tucked away in a carrying bag so she wouldn’t get in trouble for wearing it on her shoulder through the city. Her father’s other gun was tucked away inside her thick jacket and she had a knife sheathed at her belt; the things she usually took with her into the woods, the latter being more for cutting stems and making notches in wood as anything else. The rest of her belongings were in a second bag, an ordinary backpack, that she placed next to the rifle; some extra clothing and some provisions, since the notice had said this journey would take four days. Now divested of her burdens, Sasha sat at the very edge of the blanket facing the old apothecary; she felt just as awkward as before, but at least now she had followed Yiya’s request.
“Um… are there going to be others? The notice… didn’t…” It didn’t say anything about how many were required, where they were going or even provide any information on how to contact the poster for the job other than to show up at the time and place specified. It was only now that Sasha was beginning to realise just how weird that was. What if too many people showed up? What if too few showed up, or no one at all? Would Yiya be sitting here, waiting for an escort that wouldn’t arrive? Would she still make the journey by herself if she was?
Sasha abandoned her question and was quiet after that.
The forest was a dangerous place for anyone to be wandering alone, let alone a tiny slip of a girl like her, but for some reason Sasha was always comfortable there.
Though not common there were wolves and bears to worry about and even the prey animals like deer or elk could be a threat if they decided to fight instead of run. Not to mention to risk of getting lost and turned around, wandering for hours or days and never finding your way back. Or the risk of injuring yourself, far from home and with no one for miles around to hear you call for help; something as simple as stepping in a rabbit’s warren and twisting your ankle could be fatal, given enough time. Yet she could tread through it without fear; with respect, with caution, but not with fear.
It was a place she knew and that included knowing about its dangers, but the knowing made it familiar rather than scary.
But she wouldn’t be able to keep doing it forever. She couldn’t keep coming out here, with her father’s rifle and her father’s gun, to pick at berry bushes and gather up mushrooms like she was now. It wouldn’t be enough for much longer. It wasn’t even enough now, truth be told. She needed to find something else to live by.
The snap of a branch had her shooting to her feet, already taking a step backwards to run as her eyes scanned the trees. Between the boughs of a young pine, Sasha saw the antlers of a deer, a buck, and followed them down to its head and its eyes. They stared back at her, dark and intense. It was large, a full grown male, large enough that it would give enough venison to feed her and her mother for weeks; or feed them for a week and fill their pockets if they chose to sell some of it instead. Moving slowly, she raised her hand and wedged her thumb under the leather strap of the rifle hanging at her shoulder and carefully raised it up. Sasha pulled the rifle into her hands, one under the barrel and another at the butt. Her fingers found the trigger as she pulled the stock against her shoulder.
She waited.
She waited.
She waited.
The deer ran.
She waited.
She let out a breath, long and slow, and lowered the rifle.
What good was a hunter that wouldn’t even kill?
Sasha could track animals and find them within the forests better than almost any of the other hunters, because her father had been better than any other hunter and he had taught her well. But, it was always an unsure thing whether or not she could find work. Everyone had a family to feed, a livelihood to preserve; most people would not want to split their hauls with her unless it was absolutely necessary and most of the time they could find game without her help. It was only the newer hunters that worked with her frequently; the rest only called her when they were having trouble or when they wanted to find something in particular.
Something like a buck. Hunters always liked finding a buck. The antlers could sell for a lot; either as a trophy or, as some people thought, as medicine. They were valuable. Sasha pulled out a little notebook and a pencil from inside her jacket and made some quick notes; size, location, features. If she came here again, if someone asked her to come here again she should be able to track it down. It was worth telling people about, just in case.
Maybe someone would be feeling generous.
Grabbing her basket of foraged fruit and mushrooms Sasha turned away and began to make her way back home. On the way she started thinking about other things she could do. Nothing that involved people too heavily, which ruled out most things, but maybe she could learn to make stuff; like a seamstress, or a carpenter. There was also the noticeboard, which was full of jobs, most of which were dangerous and most of which were asking people with experience; the kind of experience she didn’t have. That was always going to be a problem until she took a job though.
There was that one she’d seen. One that didn’t pay much, or anything at all really, but which would at least give her experience. Something to do with an apothecary?
It was experience, that was about as much as she could say in its favour, but if she did it then she could at least say she’d done a job before when they asked her what experience she had.
Appearance: Isabella is a little above average height for a woman her age, at 5’ 8”, with a build that is noticeably muscular and athletic, particularly around the arms and shoulders. Her skin is a light brown, tanned, with reddish brown hair, not vibrant enough to be called auburn, and her eyes are a dark brown that is almost black. Calloused hands show the signs of her work ethic and she has a scar on the knuckles of her right hand from one of the times she pushed herself too hard.
She could be described as having harsh features, but a lot of that just comes from her expression; even so, she has an angular face, with a sharp pointed chin, cheekbones that are just about visible and a thin nose.
When it comes to clothing Isabella tends to keep things simple, while also prioritising clothing that is durable or multi-purpose; a leather jacket that looks well worn, with scratches around the elbows and the hem, a pair of jeans that are faded and torn, but weren’t when she bought them, various pieces of clothing that show signs of repair. She had never been in a position in her life where she could afford many luxuries, so any clothing she buys needs to have a reason to be in her wardrobe and tough enough that she doesn’t often need to worry about replacing things that break or get worn down.
In her sorcerer form, Isabella looks much the same. Her clothing changes to be heavier and darker, with a black leather jacket that has a collar made of coarse brown fur, black jeans made of thick and durable denim and a pair of heavy black boots; different from her normal clothing but not much different from what she would choose to wear herself. The biggest differences are in her eyes, now dark throughout with pitch black sclera, and her finger nails which are also completely black.
Pronouns: She/Her
Personality: - Self-sufficient: Isabella has always had to take care of herself, as no one else was dependable enough to rely on. It has meant that she had to mature faster than those around her, leaving her out of sync with her peers. If something needs to be done, she will always try to do it herself first and asking for help is anathema to her. - Hardworking: Growing up she developed the mentality that it she didn’t do things for herself then they wouldn’t get done. Isabella is someone who is always willing to put the effort in when it is needed; a job left unfinished or a job done poorly will just create problems further down the road. - Driven: Isabella is not content with her current situation and is looking for a way out. There are better things ahead, but they will not come to her unless she puts in the effort to reach them. She will keep moving forward. - Serious: She doesn’t have time for fun or relaxation when there are things to be done. - Mistrustful; People have let her down in the past, people who should have been there for her. Isabella does not count on other people to help her, nor does she expect them to come through for her in her time of need. She is alone.
Aspirations, Goals, ideals, or Ambitions: Prior to becoming a sorcerer, Isabella’s ambition was just to… succeed. To finish college with a good degree, to get a job with decent pay, most likely as a physical trainer or maybe a physical therapist, to not have to constantly count pennies or worry about how to cover next month’s bills. To reach a place of stability, if had to sum it up.
Since she made the contract though, and found out about spirits and sorcerers and the veil and all of that stuff? Nothings really changed. Things have become more complicated, she had more responsibilities to think off, but she also has more opportunities at the same time. The world has gotten larger, scarier, but… nothings really changed.
A place of stability. That’s still the goal.
History:
Isabella’s parents were young when her mother become pregnant; it had been unplanned and neither of them felt like they were ready for the responsibility at the time, her mother was nineteen and her father twenty, but they also didn’t see any alternative once they were in that situation. Both came from religious families, they were both raised with certain beliefs that made the idea of not having the baby unpalatable and they both feared how their families would react even if it was an option. As such, Isabella was born and Carlos and Maria Nunes became parents.
At the time Carlos had just started working at a mechanic’s shop owned by a friend of his father’s, while Maria had yet to find work after dropping out of high school in her last year, meaning that the couple did not have much of an income between them. Nonetheless, though they hadn’t been planning on it, the two of them moved in together following the birth of their daughter and moved in a small apartment that they could barely afford; this decision was also made partly due to the expectations of their families, even though such a living arrangement was difficult for them financially. Isabella’s mother began to look for work only a few months after she was born in order to bring more money into the household, leaving her in the care of either her parents while she did so.
Money was always a concern for their family. Both of Isabella’s parents were working long hours just to keep their heads above water in a situation that neither of them were prepared for. As such, her parents relied heavily on the support offered by Isabella’s grandparents; specifically those on her mother’s side, as Maria’s parents lived closer to them and both were retired, meaning they were more available than Carlos’s. As such, as a child Isabella was raised more by her maternal grandparents than she was her mother and father. This support, while at times necessary, was also something of a double-edged sword, as it provided the young and somewhat unwilling parents to avoid having to learn how to raise a child and push the responsibility onto others.
If they sometimes handed Isabella off to her grandparents for longer than was necessary, or when they could have taken care of their daughter themselves, it was intentional.
Her mother’s parents were strict people; hard people set in their ways and though they were happy to help the young couple at first, what was being asked of them now was beyond just helping. They were disappointed in their daughter for having a child so young and then being unable to care for her, they were also disappointed in her for dropping out of high school in the first place; while they were not so heartless as to completely neglect Isabella they did not do the things that they saw as a parents responsibility in the hopes that either of her parents would step up. As they did not, this meant that Isabella was slow to develop in certain areas, but not in others; for example she learned to walk and talk just fine, but struggled when it came to reading because her parents were never around to read to her and her grandparents wouldn’t do it in their stead.
This left Isabella at a disadvantage when it came to her education, not just because she was behind by the time she started school, but because there was nobody at home who could or would help her with homework or school projects. She underperformed compared to her peers in class and would often fail to hand in homework or hand in incomplete work, which led to her often getting in trouble. When she tried to explain to her teachers that she didn’t understand the homework, she was told to ask her parents, when she tried to ask her parents she was told to ask her grandparents and when she tried to ask her grandparents she was told to ask her teachers or her parents.
It wasn’t until two years into school that Isabella met a teacher who was willing to give her the extra attention and tutoring that she needed to catch-up with her peers, someone who was willing to ask why she was underperforming instead of just punishing her for it. They quickly found out about her home situation and the lack of support she was receiving; her parents were called into the school, only for them to send Isabella’s grandparents in their stead, who then proceeded to push the responsibility back onto the teachers in a circular conversation that led nowhere. It was not until the end of that school year that her teacher was finally able to get a hold of her parents and explain the situation to them that her parents finally stopped burying their head in the sand.
However, even now that they were the parents of a six year old child, Isabella’s parents were not much better prepared than they had been when she was born. They were present and they were trying, but they were still overworked and Isabella still found herself without the support she needed; it was just that now, instead of the indifference of her grandparents she was met with the unavailability and inability of her parents. She had expected them to help with her homework, or to read her stories, or to come to school events; sometimes they did, but more often than not they couldn’t. It came as a disappointment, even at that age she knew to be disappointed, but if there was any silver lining to her situation it was the fact that had taught her how to figure stuff out for herself. She now had a teacher who was understanding and willing to offer extra help and Isabella had learned when to ask and when to figure stuff out herself, rather than to wait for help that wasn’t coming.
A few years later, when Isabella was nine or ten, things changed again. The owner of the mechanic’s shop her father worked at had decided to retire and he was going to hand the business over to Carlos. It meant he was going to be even busier from then on, work even harder, but it also meant he would bring more money home with him; this in turn meant that Maria didn’t need to work as often and could afford to take fewer shifts, leaving her more time with Isabella. But while the presence and attention of a parental figure was appreciated, Isabella had by this point long figured out that it was often easier or just better to be self-sufficient in whatever areas she could manage; making herself breakfast or lunch, getting herself ready for school and dealing with school work were all things she could and would do herself. Even when her mother or father offered to help or tried to play a bigger role in her life, she would often reject them; not harshly, but just saying she had things handled.
In the years since, Isabella has only learned to become more and more independent; if she can do something herself, she will, and if she can’t she will figure out the best person to ask and then learn how to do it herself next time. Her teenaged years were defined by her attempts to be fiercely self-reliant, even when it wasn’t practical; studying by herself, learning how to do her own chores, even getting a part-time job as soon as she was able to so that she could begin saving up money just in case. A year after entering high-school she began taking lessons at a boxing gym, which she begrudgingly let her parents pay for after some arguing, so she could even defend herself if need be.
The result was that she developed into a very capable person at a young age; smart, hard-working, driven. However it also meant that she was harder, as a person, than someone as young as her should be. In some ways Isabella had made her life more difficult than it needed to be, by placing a lot of responsibility on her own shoulders and eschewing help were it was available; in doing so she also consciously created rift between herself and her parents, who found themselves at a loss of how to interact with their daughter who was actively trying to avoid needing them.
After graduating high school, Isabella moved out of her parent’s place as soon as she could; moved to a whole new city. Her hard work had earned her a scholarship; nowhere fancy, just some college in a place called Millburn City, but that was good enough. The money she had saved up over the last few years was spent setting herself up in a tiny apartment long enough for her to find more part time work, and the money she earned from that was enough to keep the roof over her head and food in the fridge while she attended lectures and worked towards a degree.
Living in a tiny apartment, earning a wage that barely covered the bills while she worked to keep her head above water long enough to maybe swim to shore one day? Young and out of her depth and less prepared for her situation than she thought she was? Isabella’s situation wasn’t too different from the one her parents had found themselves in.
And she would hate the comparison.
Contract(s): Standard
Contract Interaction:
There was a weight pressing down on her. A crushing, smothering weight that kept her from sitting up and which made it hard to breathe. It was uncomfortable, but strangely enough it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation; Isabella knew was it was like to feel under pressure, even if this was a little more literal.
Oh, but what if there was a way to free yourself of the burden?
There was. It was college; it was a degree and the job that would come with it. Money, stability, self-reliance.
But those things are sooooo far away. And there’s no guarantee you’ll ever achieve them.
She would. She was capable of it.
All by yourself?
She’d always been by herself. It had never stopped her before.
Just because you’re moving forward doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere, you know?
…
Power. That’s what you need. Those with power can get money. Power brings with it stability. Power gives you self-reliance. Do you want power?
Yeah, of course. Who doesn’t.
That’s all I needed to hear.
Level: 1
Key: A cross pendant necklace. Isabella isn’t religious, but it was a gift from her grandmother on her father’s side that she always wears.
Mana Colour: Purple.
Artifact points: 2
Weapon (1 point) – A pair of brass knuckles.
Talisman (1 point) – A little silver cube, attached to a charm bracelet. Notable only for the fact that it is the only charm Isabella has.
Artifacts: Isabella’s weapon looks relatively mundane; just a regular set of brass knuckles, albeit one made of dull black metal. They are imbued with a piece of a Nightmares power; the dread weight that sits atop your chest and makes it hard to move, that locks you in place and keeps you in a state of paralysis even after you wake.
Every time Isabella hits an opponent with the brass knuckles, they will feel a slight weight settle on their shoulders. Barely noticeable at first, but with each hit it will increase until every step feels heavy and plodding and their movements become sluggish. The feeling with fade after about a minute, but the timer will be reset whenever Isabella lands the next hit.
Her talisman is also fairly ordinary looking; a little silver cube with black lines drawn diagonally on each face, one running from the top-left corner to the bottom-right and two short lines on either side of it. It is attached to a charm bracelet she wears on her left wrist and is the only charm on said bracelet.
The talisman has the same power at her weapon, but much stronger and shorter lived. When activated it places a huge sense of weight atop the target; not enough to harm them, but usually enough to pin them in place or even drive them to the ground. The effect only lasts a few seconds at most before ending.
Familiar: Isabella’s familiar with a Nightmare. Not a creature responsible for bad dreams, as the name suggests, nor a manifestation of a bad dream; Nightmares are creatures that feed off of the dreams of humans, by sitting atop their chest as they sleep and draining them. Such creatures are responsible for the phenomena of sleep paralysis and though they usually cannot be seen their presence can be felt as a crushing, suffocating weight that holds you in place.
Nightmare’s vary in their appearance, but the one Isabella contracted with takes the form of a rat; a particularly ugly, mangy looking rat. Isabella tries to avoid dealing with it as much as possible.
Appearance: Isabella is a little above average height for a woman her age, at 5’ 8”, with a build that is noticeably muscular and athletic, particularly around the arms and shoulders. Her skin is a light brown, tanned, with reddish brown hair, not vibrant enough to be called auburn, and her eyes are a dark brown that is almost black. Calloused hands show the signs of her work ethic and she has a scar on the knuckles of her right hand from one of the times she pushed herself too hard.
She could be described as having harsh features, but a lot of that just comes from her expression; even so, she has an angular face, with a sharp pointed chin, cheekbones that are just about visible and a thin nose.
When it comes to clothing Isabella tends to keep things simple, while also prioritising clothing that is durable or multi-purpose; a leather jacket that looks well worn, with scratches around the elbows and the hem, a pair of jeans that are faded and torn, but weren’t when she bought them, various pieces of clothing that show signs of repair. She had never been in a position in her life where she could afford many luxuries, so any clothing she buys needs to have a reason to be in her wardrobe and tough enough that she doesn’t often need to worry about replacing things that break or get worn down.
In her sorcerer form, Isabella looks much the same. Her clothing changes to be heavier and darker, with a black leather jacket that has a collar made of coarse brown fur, black jeans made of thick and durable denim and a pair of heavy black boots; different from her normal clothing but not much different from what she would choose to wear herself. The biggest differences are in her eyes, now dark throughout with pitch black sclera, and her finger nails which are also completely black.
Pronouns: She/Her
Personality: - Self-sufficient: Isabella has always had to take care of herself, as no one else was dependable enough to rely on. It has meant that she had to mature faster than those around her, leaving her out of sync with her peers. If something needs to be done, she will always try to do it herself first and asking for help is anathema to her. - Hardworking: Growing up she developed the mentality that it she didn’t do things for herself then they wouldn’t get done. Isabella is someone who is always willing to put the effort in when it is needed; a job left unfinished or a job done poorly will just create problems further down the road. - Driven: Isabella is not content with her current situation and is looking for a way out. There are better things ahead, but they will not come to her unless she puts in the effort to reach them. She will keep moving forward. - Serious: She doesn’t have time for fun or relaxation when there are things to be done. - Mistrustful; People have let her down in the past, people who should have been there for her. Isabella does not count on other people to help her, nor does she expect them to come through for her in her time of need. She is alone.
Aspirations, Goals, ideals, or Ambitions: Prior to becoming a sorcerer, Isabella’s ambition was just to… succeed. To finish college with a good degree, to get a job with decent pay, most likely as a physical trainer or maybe a physical therapist, to not have to constantly count pennies or worry about how to cover next month’s bills. To reach a place of stability, if had to sum it up.
Since she made the contract though, and found out about spirits and sorcerers and the veil and all of that stuff? Nothings really changed. Things have become more complicated, she had more responsibilities to think off, but she also has more opportunities at the same time. The world has gotten larger, scarier, but… nothings really changed.
A place of stability. That’s still the goal.
History:
Isabella’s parents were young when her mother become pregnant; it had been unplanned and neither of them felt like they were ready for the responsibility at the time, her mother was nineteen and her father twenty, but they also didn’t see any alternative once they were in that situation. Both came from religious families, they were both raised with certain beliefs that made the idea of not having the baby unpalatable and they both feared how their families would react even if it was an option. As such, Isabella was born and Carlos and Maria Nunes became parents.
At the time Carlos had just started working at a mechanic’s shop owned by a friend of his father’s, while Maria had yet to find work after dropping out of high school in her last year, meaning that the couple did not have much of an income between them. Nonetheless, though they hadn’t been planning on it, the two of them moved in together following the birth of their daughter and moved in a small apartment that they could barely afford; this decision was also made partly due to the expectations of their families, even though such a living arrangement was difficult for them financially. Isabella’s mother began to look for work only a few months after she was born in order to bring more money into the household, leaving her in the care of either her parents while she did so.
Money was always a concern for their family. Both of Isabella’s parents were working long hours just to keep their heads above water in a situation that neither of them were prepared for. As such, her parents relied heavily on the support offered by Isabella’s grandparents; specifically those on her mother’s side, as Maria’s parents lived closer to them and both were retired, meaning they were more available than Carlos’s. As such, as a child Isabella was raised more by her maternal grandparents than she was her mother and father. This support, while at times necessary, was also something of a double-edged sword, as it provided the young and somewhat unwilling parents to avoid having to learn how to raise a child and push the responsibility onto others.
If they sometimes handed Isabella off to her grandparents for longer than was necessary, or when they could have taken care of their daughter themselves, it was intentional.
Her mother’s parents were strict people; hard people set in their ways and though they were happy to help the young couple at first, what was being asked of them now was beyond just helping. They were disappointed in their daughter for having a child so young and then being unable to care for her, they were also disappointed in her for dropping out of high school in the first place; while they were not so heartless as to completely neglect Isabella they did not do the things that they saw as a parents responsibility in the hopes that either of her parents would step up. As they did not, this meant that Isabella was slow to develop in certain areas, but not in others; for example she learned to walk and talk just fine, but struggled when it came to reading because her parents were never around to read to her and her grandparents wouldn’t do it in their stead.
This left Isabella at a disadvantage when it came to her education, not just because she was behind by the time she started school, but because there was nobody at home who could or would help her with homework or school projects. She underperformed compared to her peers in class and would often fail to hand in homework or hand in incomplete work, which led to her often getting in trouble. When she tried to explain to her teachers that she didn’t understand the homework, she was told to ask her parents, when she tried to ask her parents she was told to ask her grandparents and when she tried to ask her grandparents she was told to ask her teachers or her parents.
It wasn’t until two years into school that Isabella met a teacher who was willing to give her the extra attention and tutoring that she needed to catch-up with her peers, someone who was willing to ask why she was underperforming instead of just punishing her for it. They quickly found out about her home situation and the lack of support she was receiving; her parents were called into the school, only for them to send Isabella’s grandparents in their stead, who then proceeded to push the responsibility back onto the teachers in a circular conversation that led nowhere. It was not until the end of that school year that her teacher was finally able to get a hold of her parents and explain the situation to them that her parents finally stopped burying their head in the sand.
However, even now that they were the parents of a six year old child, Isabella’s parents were not much better prepared than they had been when she was born. They were present and they were trying, but they were still overworked and Isabella still found herself without the support she needed; it was just that now, instead of the indifference of her grandparents she was met with the unavailability and inability of her parents. She had expected them to help with her homework, or to read her stories, or to come to school events; sometimes they did, but more often than not they couldn’t. It came as a disappointment, even at that age she knew to be disappointed, but if there was any silver lining to her situation it was the fact that had taught her how to figure stuff out for herself. She now had a teacher who was understanding and willing to offer extra help and Isabella had learned when to ask and when to figure stuff out herself, rather than to wait for help that wasn’t coming.
A few years later, when Isabella was nine or ten, things changed again. The owner of the mechanic’s shop her father worked at had decided to retire and he was going to hand the business over to Carlos. It meant he was going to be even busier from then on, work even harder, but it also meant he would bring more money home with him; this in turn meant that Maria didn’t need to work as often and could afford to take fewer shifts, leaving her more time with Isabella. But while the presence and attention of a parental figure was appreciated, Isabella had by this point long figured out that it was often easier or just better to be self-sufficient in whatever areas she could manage; making herself breakfast or lunch, getting herself ready for school and dealing with school work were all things she could and would do herself. Even when her mother or father offered to help or tried to play a bigger role in her life, she would often reject them; not harshly, but just saying she had things handled.
In the years since, Isabella has only learned to become more and more independent; if she can do something herself, she will, and if she can’t she will figure out the best person to ask and then learn how to do it herself next time. Her teenaged years were defined by her attempts to be fiercely self-reliant, even when it wasn’t practical; studying by herself, learning how to do her own chores, even getting a part-time job as soon as she was able to so that she could begin saving up money just in case. A year after entering high-school she began taking lessons at a boxing gym, which she begrudgingly let her parents pay for after some arguing, so she could even defend herself if need be.
The result was that she developed into a very capable person at a young age; smart, hard-working, driven. However it also meant that she was harder, as a person, than someone as young as her should be. In some ways Isabella had made her life more difficult than it needed to be, by placing a lot of responsibility on her own shoulders and eschewing help were it was available; in doing so she also consciously created rift between herself and her parents, who found themselves at a loss of how to interact with their daughter who was actively trying to avoid needing them.
After graduating high school, Isabella moved out of her parent’s place as soon as she could; moved to a whole new city. Her hard work had earned her a scholarship; nowhere fancy, just some college in a place called Millburn City, but that was good enough. The money she had saved up over the last few years was spent setting herself up in a tiny apartment long enough for her to find more part time work, and the money she earned from that was enough to keep the roof over her head and food in the fridge while she attended lectures and worked towards a degree.
Living in a tiny apartment, earning a wage that barely covered the bills while she worked to keep her head above water long enough to maybe swim to shore one day? Young and out of her depth and less prepared for her situation than she thought she was? Isabella’s situation wasn’t too different from the one her parents had found themselves in.
And she would hate the comparison.
Contract(s): Standard
Contract Interaction:
There was a weight pressing down on her. A crushing, smothering weight that kept her from sitting up and which made it hard to breathe. It was uncomfortable, but strangely enough it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation; Isabella knew was it was like to feel under pressure, even if this was a little more literal.
Oh, but what if there was a way to free yourself of the burden?
There was. It was college; it was a degree and the job that would come with it. Money, stability, self-reliance.
But those things are sooooo far away. And there’s no guarantee you’ll ever achieve them.
She would. She was capable of it.
All by yourself?
She’d always been by herself. It had never stopped her before.
Just because you’re moving forward doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere, you know?
…
Power. That’s what you need. Those with power can get money. Power brings with it stability. Power gives you self-reliance. Do you want power?
Yeah, of course. Who doesn’t.
That’s all I needed to hear.
Level: 1
Key: A cross pendant necklace. Isabella isn’t religious, but it was a gift from her grandmother on her father’s side that she always wears.
Mana Colour: Purple.
Artifact points: 2
Weapon (1 point) – A pair of brass knuckles.
Talisman (1 point) – A little silver cube, attached to a charm bracelet. Notable only for the fact that it is the only charm Isabella has.
Artifacts: Isabella’s weapon looks relatively mundane; just a regular set of brass knuckles, albeit one made of dull black metal. They are imbued with a piece of a Nightmares power; the dread weight that sits atop your chest and makes it hard to move, that locks you in place and keeps you in a state of paralysis even after you wake.
Every time Isabella hits an opponent with the brass knuckles, they will feel a slight weight settle on their shoulders. Barely noticeable at first, but with each hit it will increase until every step feels heavy and plodding and their movements become sluggish. The feeling with fade after about a minute, but the timer will be reset whenever Isabella lands the next hit.
Her talisman is also fairly ordinary looking; a little silver cube with black lines drawn diagonally on each face, one running from the top-left corner to the bottom-right and two short lines on either side of it. It is attached to a charm bracelet she wears on her left wrist and is the only charm on said bracelet.
The talisman has the same power at her weapon, but much stronger and shorter lived. When activated it places a huge sense of weight atop the target; not enough to harm them, but usually enough to pin them in place or even drive them to the ground. The effect only lasts a few seconds at most before ending.
Familiar: Isabella’s familiar with a Nightmare. Not a creature responsible for bad dreams, as the name suggests, nor a manifestation of a bad dream; Nightmares are creatures that feed off of the dreams of humans, by sitting atop their chest as they sleep and draining them. Such creatures are responsible for the phenomena of sleep paralysis and though they usually cannot be seen their presence can be felt as a crushing, suffocating weight that holds you in place.
Nightmare’s vary in their appearance, but the one Isabella contracted with takes the form of a rat; a particularly ugly, mangy looking rat. Isabella tries to avoid dealing with it as much as possible.
WHAT IS A STRANGER'S FIRST IMPRESSION UPON MEETING THEM?
Mousy, timid, afraid of her own shadow. Sasha is a small thing, petite and short, made even smaller by the way she curls in on herself and keeps her head down; her voice is quiet and she has trouble getting her words out, especially when people are looking at her. She is not good around people in general.
Nonetheless, there is a surety to the way she does things that is at odds with this. When carrying out a task she moves with purpose, not slowing, never wavering or pausing to think about the next step; something not exactly like confidence, but more a certainty of what she is doing. That is, until she notices someone watching her and then it all falls apart.
WHAT IS THEIR PROFESSION AND HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT IT?
She is a hunter. At least, in theory they are.
Her father was a hunter, someone who would venture out into the woods and the mountains in search of deer or rabbit to bring home; then her mother would dress it, prepare it for cooking and separate out the parts that needed to be discarded from the parts that could be sold. Fur, antlers; that kind of thing. Before he… disappeared, he taught Sasha everything he knew; how to track game, how to navigate, how to avoid making noise or being seen. How to shoot and lay traps.
But Sasha has never hunted anything. She cannot bring herself to kill. Instead she uses the skills she was taught to forage for berries and fruits and wild vegetables; avoiding the animals, both dangerous and peaceful along the way. Sometime she will lead other hunters through the woods, the ones who can’t track as well as she can, finding and following the tracks of animals and bringing them to the place where they may shoot deer or rabbit or whatever else. Then she helps them bring their kill back to town and her mother dresses them and the hunters will give them a portion of it.
HOW HAS BEING A HOWL AFFECTED THEIR LIFE?
It’s not so bad. Sometimes she will see things in the woods that no one else can; dangers far worse than the wolves and bears that other hunters are afraid of, but ones that she can thankfully avoid. Sasha is almost certain that it was the Rue that caused her father’s disappearance; she can think of no other reason why a man like him would walk into the woods one day and never return.
WHY ARE THEY IN OAKEN CITY?
She was born in the city, technically. Albeit on the outskirts, where the buildings start to give way to the wilderness and fewer people live.
DO THEY HAVE A HOWL ABILITY? WHAT IS IT?
Sasha can see the Rue; shadowy figures that she hasn’t told anyone that she can see except for her mother. They are dangerous things that cannot be frightened off by a gunshot like a wolf can; even when she points her hunting rifle, loaded but never fired, at them they don’t care at all, but for some reason her father’s old revolver seems to give them pause. She pulled the trigger once, while pointing it at one of the shadows and although it wasn’t loaded Sasha swore she could hear the gunshot regardless, feel the gun kick in her hands and saw the shadow flee as if burned.
That only seems to work against the Rue though. The old gun is just a useless memento any other time.
This is probably going to clash with the setting in some way, but here's what I got.
WHAT IS THE CHARACTER'S NAME?
Sasha Zaitseva
WHAT IS A STRANGER'S FIRST IMPRESSION UPON MEETING THEM?
Mousy, timid, afraid of her own shadow. Sasha is a small thing, petite and short, made even smaller by the way she curls in on herself and keeps her head down; her voice is quiet and she has trouble getting her words out, especially when people are looking at her. She is not good around people in general.
Nonetheless, there is a surety to the way she does things that is at odds with this. When carrying out a task she moves with purpose, not slowing, never wavering or pausing to think about the next step; something not exactly like confidence, but more a certainty of what she is doing. That is, until she notices someone watching her and then it all falls apart.
WHAT IS THEIR PROFESSION AND HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT IT?
She is a hunter. At least, in theory they are.
Her father was a hunter, someone who would venture out into the woods and the mountains in search of deer or rabbit to bring home; then her mother would dress it, prepare it for cooking and separate out the parts that needed to be discarded from the parts that could be sold. Fur, antlers; that kind of thing. Before he… disappeared, he taught Sasha everything he knew; how to track game, how to navigate, how to avoid making noise or being seen. How to shoot and lay traps.
But Sasha has never hunted anything. She cannot bring herself to kill. Instead she uses the skills she was taught to forage for berries and fruits and wild vegetables; avoiding the animals, both dangerous and peaceful along the way. Sometime she will lead other hunters through the woods, the ones who can’t track as well as she can, finding and following the tracks of animals and bringing them to the place where they may shoot deer or rabbit or whatever else. Then she helps them bring their kill back to town and her mother dresses them and the hunters will give them a portion of it.
HOW HAS BEING A HOWL AFFECTED THEIR LIFE?
It’s not so bad. Sometimes she will see things in the woods that no one else can; dangers far worse than the wolves and bears that other hunters are afraid of, but ones that she can thankfully avoid. Sasha is almost certain that it was the Rue that caused her father’s disappearance; she can think of no other reason why a man like him would walk into the woods one day and never return.
WHY ARE THEY IN OAKEN CITY?
She was born in the city, technically. Albeit on the outskirts, where the buildings start to give way to the wilderness and fewer people live.
DO THEY HAVE A HOWL ABILITY? WHAT IS IT?
Sasha can see the Rue; shadowy figures that she hasn’t told anyone that she can see except for her mother. They are dangerous things that cannot be frightened off by a gunshot like a wolf can; even when she points her hunting rifle, loaded but never fired, at them they don’t care at all, but for some reason her father’s old revolver seems to give them pause. She pulled the trigger once, while pointing it at one of the shadows and although it wasn’t loaded Sasha swore she could hear the gunshot regardless, feel the gun kick in her hands and saw the shadow flee as if burned.
That only seems to work against the Rue though. The old gun is just a useless memento any other time.
Sidney was subdued as she followed the others into the city. She didn’t speak or join in with the conversations with the others as they trailed Eckehart through the crowds that parted for them, nor did she engage with the strange and varied revellers that they passed along the way, sticking close to the centre of the group. Her head was still swimming with everything that was happening, the lake coming to life and snatching them up, waking up in this place with their bodies transformed and being pulled along by this Eckehart guy to… somewhere, to meet this ‘True Voice’ of his, before she had time to even come to terms with the fact that there was a dragon, a dragon right over there.
All the while the song continued in the back of her mind.
What Sidney did do as she walked was look. Her head swung from side to side constantly, trying to see anything and everything all at once, from the crowds of people swarming around them, no two of which seemed to look alike, with their feathered heads, scaled skin and gleaming eyes, to the clothes and jewellery they were wearing and items they were carryings, the stalls selling wares and the buildings they stood in front of or hung out of the windows to see their passage. Even the members of their own group, her friends and familiar figures from New Hope; majestic antlers and raven black feathers and skin like parchment. Everything she saw, no matter where she looked or how she turned her head, looked unreal and yet so vividly, perfectly real at the same time. Sidney had seen art before, she had sometimes spent hours of the day looking at hundreds of paintings and illustrations of worlds and people and things that didn’t exist; whole fantasy worlds brought to life by the imaginations of incredibly talented people she could only dream of one day being as good as. But nothing she had ever seen captured in inks or paints or digital could match the depth of what she was seeing now. The reality of it all.
And that was before she even looked up at the sky.
“I wish I had a camera.”
She spent almost as much time looking at herself as she did everything else; her eyes, drifting every which way, always came back to the every-shifting canvas of her own skin. Her sleeve was still rolled up, her left forearm exposed as she idly ran the fingers of her other hand over the little butterfly she had drawn there. It felt smooth. Smoother than skin with supposed to be; not bumpy with goose bumps from the chill that still clung to her from waking up in a pool of water, not coated in little hairs from follicles that now seemed to be absent. Smooth like a lizards scales, maybe. When she looked closer, she could see that the surface of her skin was broken up into little, tiny plates; kind of like the scales of a reptile, except unnaturally uniform in shape and size, or maybe, given her shifting pigmentation, maybe like pixels on a computer screen.
Though yellow had been the dominant colour of her palette before, as Sidney walked through the city, as she saw more sights and began to feel calmer, the colours changed; yellow gave way to pinks and oranges or various hues, darker and more vibrant in places, muted in others. Tracing the edge of a pattern with one finger, Sidney wondered what it was that caused the changes, what decided the colours, and watched as a lilac hue spread across her skin amidst the rest, followed soon after by more yellow and a splash of red as she pulled her hand away.
“Weird.”
Dropping her arms to her sides and allowing her sleeve to fall back into place, Sidney looked up in time to see their group about to cross over a huge bridge; as wide as a highway and ornate in its construction, covered with vines and flowers that looked hand-crafted in how perfectly placed they were. Then her eyes dropped to the reliefs beneath their feet, and Sidney couldn’t help but to finally stop and stare at what she saw.
Because of course, if everything here was beautiful, why wouldn’t the art be amazing as well? Why wouldn’t they use some of the most detailed carvings she had ever seen to pave their roads? Were they even allowed to walk on those? It felt like blasphemy.
“Who carved these?”
Eckehart had brought them to a stop at the end of this bridge, across which sat a giant palace, the place they were to meet a princess; was the princess also the Voice, was she the one singing the sound that still rang inside her head? She probably should have paid more attention to what everyone was saying. Freyja was ready to move forward, to jump straight into things, but Sidney very much felt unprepared at the moment.
“Wait! We’re meeting a princess right? Isn’t there any, like, etiquette we need to be aware of? What do we call her? Do we bow?”
A condition? One that let Helena project cards physically and that was enough for her too… put someone in the hospital? And this had nothing to do with the duel spirits thing that Leo was already struggling to get his head around? Except, Helena could see spirits as well so maybe it was related to that. “Well, I guess this explains the whole ‘no duelling without supervision’ thing… wait, does that mean that other kid can hurt people too?”
It was strange, watching someone speak to thin air as if they were having a conversation with someone. Leo squinted at the air in front of Helena’s face as if trying to see whatever it was she could see, but there was nothing there no matter how hard he tried. Guess he just didn’t have whatever it was, gift or curse or something else, that he needed to be able to talk to his cards. “Great, so some people can talk to their cards and other people can kill you during a duel and my roommate got put in the hospital and people keep going missing and the Ra dorm burnt down. Man, this sucks; I just came here because I wanted to become a better duellist. Maybe I should have studied harder and gone to a real school.”
Well, he was here now, so if this was something he had to deal with Leo might as well learn as much as he could about it. Hopefully when he became a pro he wouldn’t have to worry about his opponent’s killing him. “You didn’t kill him, so don’t beat yourself up too hard. But, yeah, you should probably listen to the teachers not duel anyone else anytime soon. Although, why are you even duelling people in the first place if this is what happens? Why try to become a duellist?”
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