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Lady Selune,
TheMushroomLord
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Most Recent Posts
Name: Vellaxir Silnara Hebel
Appearance:
Age: 17
Bio: Vell was found performing simple magic shows on the street for money when she was seven by the Hebel family. Being a very compassionate couple, they took her in and adopted her. How she came to be on the street where she was found is unknown, and if she does remember, she is not the sort to divulge that information.
She never stopped learning stage magic, though, even in her new home. The flare and mystery of it drawing her in to accumulate every new skill and trick of the trade that she could find, until that tendency to put on a show had become such a part of who she was that it reflected in her everyday life through how she would toy with people to get a rise out of them.
And in her career choice.
In addition to stage magic, Vell was always naturally talented at real magic. Oddly -or perhaps appropriately- moreso in the sorts that are more useful for stealth than for show, although she does tend to make a show of those as well when given the chance. Nevertheless, it was this talent which landed her the opportunity to get into Ishtar.
Mundane Skills: Combat, Sleight of hand, Stealth, Thievery, Lock-picking, Deception, Disguise, Misdirection, Intimidation... generally just things that are needed for sneaking, stealing, assassination, and freaking people out (mainly for fun). She is also pretty good at singing, and at putting on a show.
Magic: Vell specializes in Tactile Displacement magic, with a particular focus in guerrilla combat and prestidigitation applications. One could alternatively cite her specialty as being in short-range teleportation and mirror magics.
Spells:
Vanishing Act - A short-range teleportation skill. She can teleport anywhere that she can see or knows well enough within 100ft. It is possible to teleport to unknown places within range, but that would greatly risk winding up somewhere deadly.
Misdirection - As well as being able to teleport herself, Vell can teleport objects and entities that she touches with the same range restrictions, even being able to send them on without her. This is most often used for conveniently relocating objects such as
Smoke Screen - A simple spell used to create a puff of smoke for use in covering or distracting from a quick exit, or otherwise as a means of obscuring vision in a given area. This is the only spell that she currently has in her repertoire which does not require touch in order to work.
Through the Looking Glass - The ability to travel through mirrors. When she touches a mirror of a size reasonable for her to fit through, Vell is able to move in and out of the world reflected therein. Once inside, she can use her teleporting ability to travel to any mirror of any size within the same range of 100ft, provided of course that she already knows their location.
Catoptrap - A target can be pushed or pulled into a mirror that she is touching, provided that she is also in contact with said target. The target will be unable to escape until ten minutes have passed, unless she decides to release them herself beforehand.
Caputo Effect - Upon touching a mirror, she may opt to go into a trance which allows her to locate any mirror anywhere and replace a person's reflection in order to speak to them. Others may also call her to a mirror by saying her name three times (yes, that is how she arranged it) in front of, as the spell is received by her personal compact mirror. She must focus in order to locate previously unknown mirrors, but no focus is required to answer calls.
Misdirection - As well as being able to teleport herself, Vell can teleport objects and entities that she touches with the same range restrictions, even being able to send them on without her. This is most often used for conveniently relocating objects such as
Smoke Screen - A simple spell used to create a puff of smoke for use in covering or distracting from a quick exit, or otherwise as a means of obscuring vision in a given area. This is the only spell that she currently has in her repertoire which does not require touch in order to work.
Through the Looking Glass - The ability to travel through mirrors. When she touches a mirror of a size reasonable for her to fit through, Vell is able to move in and out of the world reflected therein. Once inside, she can use her teleporting ability to travel to any mirror of any size within the same range of 100ft, provided of course that she already knows their location.
Catoptrap - A target can be pushed or pulled into a mirror that she is touching, provided that she is also in contact with said target. The target will be unable to escape until ten minutes have passed, unless she decides to release them herself beforehand.
Caputo Effect - Upon touching a mirror, she may opt to go into a trance which allows her to locate any mirror anywhere and replace a person's reflection in order to speak to them. Others may also call her to a mirror by saying her name three times (yes, that is how she arranged it) in front of, as the spell is received by her personal compact mirror. She must focus in order to locate previously unknown mirrors, but no focus is required to answer calls.
Personality: Vell is a mysterious sort, though not due to brooding nature or quiet maturity. Rather, she simply likes to keep people guessing, and when she does answer personal questions it can be difficult to tell whether she is being earnest or simply joking. She comes off as quite the sadistic bad-girl, being exceptionally devious and prone to deliberately scaring people just for a laugh. In addition, she is exceptionally cunning and good at reading people. All the better to find out what would best give them chills, after all. Overall, anyone would say that she is a villain.
But perhaps that is just smoke and mirrors.
Faction: Ishtar
Descendant of the Illuminated Poet?: ???
He followed her easily, allowing her to lead him by the hand without a second thought. Or a first thought, for that matter. He didn't notice much of anything aside from the fact that walking felt oddly disconnected. Like he was just a spectator watching from inside somebody else's head as they moved about. The flickering lights, too, looked strange. He could see so many colours in them.
These things were only passing thoughts rather than deep considerations, however, and he barely even realized that he had stopped still in the hallway the moment that Dolly had left his side. He could still hear her talking, though. Half of what she said was lost in the muddle of his mind, or perhaps it just didn't make much sense to him. But he did catch her asking his name. A question which set him lethargically pondering the answer, slowly raising his hands and turning them over to look at them. The lights and colours danced across his fingers unnaturally, and he could see an afterimage of them as he spread them out. But they didn't appear to hold any clues for him.
He hadn't much time to wonder over it, anyway. A horrible screeching sound promptly rent the air, chasing away any halting thoughts that he had and replacing them with pure, mindless instinct. Immediately, his hands flew to clutch his head. A shout tore free from his throat, only to be lost in the deafening noise. Then the hallway was plunged into darkness, and everything went eerily silent.
But not for him.
For him, the darkness was overflowing with voices. Whispers that had seemed before to be distant background noise, but now sounded close and excited; harsh and cold; surrounding and clawing at him like countless hands reaching desperately to grab him and drag him down into the inky black. His breathing grew faster and shallower. It felt like something, somewhere, were breaking open. That was what the whispers wanted. Most of them were in some terrifying unknown language, and there were too many and too much haziness to understand even the ones that weren't. But he could feel that they wanted him to let them through, like a muscle memory.
He wanted to fall to the ground and cover his head, but before his body could follow through, another collided with it, causing him to freeze and his breath to catch as it clung to him. The boy hesitated for a moment before, very slowly and haltingly, lowering his arms to wrap around the child in return.
It was uncertain for how long they were left standing there huddled in the dark. It felt like ages. A nightmarish eternity, even. But time was fairly fluid for him in his present state, and eventually the lights did return. He opened his eyes to look around warily as soon as they did, spotting what looked like a few hairline cracks running across the walls around them, but they had vanished by the time the little girl had raised her head from his shirt. That gave him an uneasy feeling somewhere deep in his chest, but the haze was once again weighing over him now that instinct was no longer needed. Such that when Dolly moved away he remained dully in place, looking around equally as dully, the speaker announcements passing over him unrecognized but for a slight flinch at their onset.
These things were only passing thoughts rather than deep considerations, however, and he barely even realized that he had stopped still in the hallway the moment that Dolly had left his side. He could still hear her talking, though. Half of what she said was lost in the muddle of his mind, or perhaps it just didn't make much sense to him. But he did catch her asking his name. A question which set him lethargically pondering the answer, slowly raising his hands and turning them over to look at them. The lights and colours danced across his fingers unnaturally, and he could see an afterimage of them as he spread them out. But they didn't appear to hold any clues for him.
He hadn't much time to wonder over it, anyway. A horrible screeching sound promptly rent the air, chasing away any halting thoughts that he had and replacing them with pure, mindless instinct. Immediately, his hands flew to clutch his head. A shout tore free from his throat, only to be lost in the deafening noise. Then the hallway was plunged into darkness, and everything went eerily silent.
But not for him.
For him, the darkness was overflowing with voices. Whispers that had seemed before to be distant background noise, but now sounded close and excited; harsh and cold; surrounding and clawing at him like countless hands reaching desperately to grab him and drag him down into the inky black. His breathing grew faster and shallower. It felt like something, somewhere, were breaking open. That was what the whispers wanted. Most of them were in some terrifying unknown language, and there were too many and too much haziness to understand even the ones that weren't. But he could feel that they wanted him to let them through, like a muscle memory.
He wanted to fall to the ground and cover his head, but before his body could follow through, another collided with it, causing him to freeze and his breath to catch as it clung to him. The boy hesitated for a moment before, very slowly and haltingly, lowering his arms to wrap around the child in return.
It was uncertain for how long they were left standing there huddled in the dark. It felt like ages. A nightmarish eternity, even. But time was fairly fluid for him in his present state, and eventually the lights did return. He opened his eyes to look around warily as soon as they did, spotting what looked like a few hairline cracks running across the walls around them, but they had vanished by the time the little girl had raised her head from his shirt. That gave him an uneasy feeling somewhere deep in his chest, but the haze was once again weighing over him now that instinct was no longer needed. Such that when Dolly moved away he remained dully in place, looking around equally as dully, the speaker announcements passing over him unrecognized but for a slight flinch at their onset.
Mech Technician
At first she didn't realize that she was the one being addressed. It was so out of the blue, and she wasn't expecting it. After a second or two, however, she saw that the man's smirk was directed her way, and she raised her attention from her drink to consider him. She'd noticed their group approaching; recognized them to be the ones who'd just come in with their bloodied comrade. But she'd opted to mind her own business. After all, it only made sense that they'd come here, given the circumstances.
The one who had spoken to her was tall, and rather scruffy. Scarred, as well. Maybe from the war, maybe from before it. She didn't know, and didn't really see any reason to pay it much mind. Instead, she briefly glanced over her shoulder into the tent before turning her head back with a casual tilt to look at him again. "Depends how much he likes lively dives." The mottled woman replied honestly.
The one who had spoken to her was tall, and rather scruffy. Scarred, as well. Maybe from the war, maybe from before it. She didn't know, and didn't really see any reason to pay it much mind. Instead, she briefly glanced over her shoulder into the tent before turning her head back with a casual tilt to look at him again. "Depends how much he likes lively dives." The mottled woman replied honestly.
@FalloutJack
This smaller, closer voice was new. Or was it? It was hard to tell. Maybe it had been around in the background all along. Maybe it wasn't even closer.
Maybe it wasn't even really there at all.
The hooded figure began to sink into obscurity again. Relaxing in a way. It felt like just a dream, after all, and he was so...so sleepy. It was such an effort to be aware.
But then the sensation of a warm, tiny touch upon his hands drew him back. Slowly, dark and distant eyes -possibly too dark, too distant- raised to meet warm brown ones. Real ones....They were real, weren't they? The little girl who sat before him looked and felt present enough. It was hard to say, though. Everything still gave off a rather faraway, almost numb impression. But there was something very familiar in those eyes, whether real or not, which resonated with the older boy in a way he didn't yet have the presence of mind to process. Or maybe he was simply shrinking away from doing so. Regardless, she was telling him that he had to go with her, and there was some part of him that responded instinctively to that, as though that were normal or expected in some way, and the strange sense of familiarity lent itself to reinforcing that.
So, without giving the matter much thought, he silently gave her a dull nod of acknowledgement.
Mech Technician
He was slow to answer, looking up at her in such a fog that she could only suspect that she had inadvertently roused him from near-sleep. The mottled mechanic waited patiently, though. Seeing as he was already putting in the effort to wake.
Her patience was ill rewarded, for before he could venture a response, the silence of the space was shattered by the arrival of woman whose boisterousness belied her petite size. It was a friendly enough greeting, though the technician got the sense that it was a bit odd. Not that she had any room to speak on what was odd. She did not get a chance to reply, anyway, as the tiny woman was already telling her the answer to the question that had been asked of the Sergeant, causing amber eyes to dart toward him in search of confirmation as to the validity of the explanation.
The man did agree, albeit without much energy. Maybe he meant it. Maybe he was just accepting it as an excuse. That was his business and it didn't look like she'd be able to press the matter further even if she wanted to, considering that the two began to converse about this and that and other business. She was just beginning to think she ought to step away to wait for them to finish their discussion when another pair of women entered the scene.
These two WERE odd. At least for a military operation. They were like flighty teenagers at a burger joint, rather than soldiers in the field. The sappiness of their flirting didn't escape her notice, either. In front of a commanding officer no less. They were clearly very new recruits. Newer than her, even, and with what seemed to her like very poor understanding of what it meant to be fighting in a war. Overall she was rather confused by their very out-of-place manners, such that when they both asked her name, she only managed to reply to them with a bewildered "Uh" apiece. It didn't seem to matter much, regardless. They had so much to say that it seemed to go mostly unnoticed, and she was almost certainly soon forgotten.
Or so she rather hoped, anyway. She wasn't used to so much chatter, and she'd never spent much time with other women before, either.
So it came as a relief when the Sarge rose to his feet and stopped the seemingly constant flow of babbling like a dam in a river and gave them a little piece of his mind. He was surprisingly gentle about it, of course. Barely even a reprimand. She wasn't sure if that was normal out in the jungle, but in Basic they would have been given an earful. Then again, that was just the way Basic Training was.
Then, finally, he turned and addressed the mechanic.
She opened her mouth to speak, lifting a hand that had been wiped of grease, but was still a bit grimy where the cloth couldn't easily clean. "Yes, I-" The sturdy woman began. However, once again there was an interruption, this time in the quieter form of some soldier tapping for the tired officer's attention. Presumably bringing some news to him. Whatever it was, it was more important than anything she had to say, as he immediately excused himself and ducked away toward a big tent she hadn't yet learned the purpose of.
For a moment after, she remained in place, until at last she lowered her hand with a silent sigh. With the purpose for her coming to that spot gone, she looked around dubiously at the group of girls. They seemed quite capable of entertaining themselves, and a bit too noisy and energetic for her. She wasn't much of a conversationalist, either. Neither was she there to make friends.
Thus, she gave anyone who might have been looking her way a slight nod before taking her own leave and wandering off to look for something to do in the meantime.
As she started across the ground, the sound of a commotion drew her attention to the entrance. She could hear scattered calls for a medic while soldiers popped their heads out of various tents and began rushing toward two men who were carrying a third, and a fourth individual who looked to be a woman. A very small patrol group, perhaps. Or more likely, given the reactions of the people gathering around them and the state they were in, one that had just been made smaller than originally assigned.
It was sobering, but not something she had any disillusions about. Something she doubted she could say the same for some of the girls she'd just left the company of.
Turning away from the scene, she opted to go look for something to drink.
--------------------------------
Fortunately for her, there was indeed a place where she could get a drink. Less fortunately, it turned out to be even more rowdy than the little party she'd just escaped from.
The odd looks, jibes, and drunken questions about why she looked so messed up, she could handle. She was used to it, and frankly she didn't care. They were all just stupid, anyway. What was more difficult at the moment was how loud and crowded the place was. People were looking for a good time, to forget all the fear and horror, but all she wanted right then was a little peace and quiet.
And space. She added to herself as she was bumped by some inebriated lug on their way past her for the umpteenth time.
Reaching the limit of her tolerance, the woman picked up her libation and exited the undersized tent in favour of standing outside of it. There she breathed in the comparative quiet before taking a more comfortable sip from her cup.
Her patience was ill rewarded, for before he could venture a response, the silence of the space was shattered by the arrival of woman whose boisterousness belied her petite size. It was a friendly enough greeting, though the technician got the sense that it was a bit odd. Not that she had any room to speak on what was odd. She did not get a chance to reply, anyway, as the tiny woman was already telling her the answer to the question that had been asked of the Sergeant, causing amber eyes to dart toward him in search of confirmation as to the validity of the explanation.
The man did agree, albeit without much energy. Maybe he meant it. Maybe he was just accepting it as an excuse. That was his business and it didn't look like she'd be able to press the matter further even if she wanted to, considering that the two began to converse about this and that and other business. She was just beginning to think she ought to step away to wait for them to finish their discussion when another pair of women entered the scene.
These two WERE odd. At least for a military operation. They were like flighty teenagers at a burger joint, rather than soldiers in the field. The sappiness of their flirting didn't escape her notice, either. In front of a commanding officer no less. They were clearly very new recruits. Newer than her, even, and with what seemed to her like very poor understanding of what it meant to be fighting in a war. Overall she was rather confused by their very out-of-place manners, such that when they both asked her name, she only managed to reply to them with a bewildered "Uh" apiece. It didn't seem to matter much, regardless. They had so much to say that it seemed to go mostly unnoticed, and she was almost certainly soon forgotten.
Or so she rather hoped, anyway. She wasn't used to so much chatter, and she'd never spent much time with other women before, either.
So it came as a relief when the Sarge rose to his feet and stopped the seemingly constant flow of babbling like a dam in a river and gave them a little piece of his mind. He was surprisingly gentle about it, of course. Barely even a reprimand. She wasn't sure if that was normal out in the jungle, but in Basic they would have been given an earful. Then again, that was just the way Basic Training was.
Then, finally, he turned and addressed the mechanic.
She opened her mouth to speak, lifting a hand that had been wiped of grease, but was still a bit grimy where the cloth couldn't easily clean. "Yes, I-" The sturdy woman began. However, once again there was an interruption, this time in the quieter form of some soldier tapping for the tired officer's attention. Presumably bringing some news to him. Whatever it was, it was more important than anything she had to say, as he immediately excused himself and ducked away toward a big tent she hadn't yet learned the purpose of.
For a moment after, she remained in place, until at last she lowered her hand with a silent sigh. With the purpose for her coming to that spot gone, she looked around dubiously at the group of girls. They seemed quite capable of entertaining themselves, and a bit too noisy and energetic for her. She wasn't much of a conversationalist, either. Neither was she there to make friends.
Thus, she gave anyone who might have been looking her way a slight nod before taking her own leave and wandering off to look for something to do in the meantime.
As she started across the ground, the sound of a commotion drew her attention to the entrance. She could hear scattered calls for a medic while soldiers popped their heads out of various tents and began rushing toward two men who were carrying a third, and a fourth individual who looked to be a woman. A very small patrol group, perhaps. Or more likely, given the reactions of the people gathering around them and the state they were in, one that had just been made smaller than originally assigned.
It was sobering, but not something she had any disillusions about. Something she doubted she could say the same for some of the girls she'd just left the company of.
Turning away from the scene, she opted to go look for something to drink.
--------------------------------
Fortunately for her, there was indeed a place where she could get a drink. Less fortunately, it turned out to be even more rowdy than the little party she'd just escaped from.
The odd looks, jibes, and drunken questions about why she looked so messed up, she could handle. She was used to it, and frankly she didn't care. They were all just stupid, anyway. What was more difficult at the moment was how loud and crowded the place was. People were looking for a good time, to forget all the fear and horror, but all she wanted right then was a little peace and quiet.
And space. She added to herself as she was bumped by some inebriated lug on their way past her for the umpteenth time.
Reaching the limit of her tolerance, the woman picked up her libation and exited the undersized tent in favour of standing outside of it. There she breathed in the comparative quiet before taking a more comfortable sip from her cup.
@FalloutJack
@BazmundYou're far from an idiot! (Besides, I totally missed stuff in the original posts, too;;; )
Mech Technician
"Seventeen what?" A low, level female voice asked from the entryway.
If the corporal was tidy and formal, then given her introductory question and appearance, the woman to whom the voice belonged was as opposite as could be. Her uniform was wrinkled and worn, and dirt and grime covered both it and the rest of her in dark smears, something which she appeared to be quite accustomed to if the impassive way in which she was wiping her hands on the scrap of grease cloth that she was holding was anything to go by. An unfocused glance might have even briefly perceived two layers of grime, but closer inspection would have revealed her skin and hair to be splotched with contrasting spots of pigment.
Colouration and presentation aside, she otherwise appeared to be a normal young, negro woman of very average size and build, although something about her looked particularly sturdy. Her eyes were uncommonly bright, but brown in colour, and her hair was pulled back into a careless -yet still within regulation- ponytail.
Still, despite everything about her outward characteristics and manner, she gave off such an air of strength and confidence that in her own way she seemed very professional indeed. As though no matter what task was given her, she would get the job done on sheer force of will alone. A conflict of perception perhaps, but no less the truth- although it was possibly contributed to by the additional aloofness with which she seemed to look at everything.
As she was now so looking at the sergeant before whom she was standing.
One dark brow arched slightly, the only indication of her curiosity as her honey brown eyes scanned the sandy blond man coolly from behind rectangular lenses. Not enough of a reaction registered in her face to indicate her thoughts on what she saw, if any at all. Neither did she say anything else or give any introduction, simply waiting in steady calm for a reply to her question.
If the corporal was tidy and formal, then given her introductory question and appearance, the woman to whom the voice belonged was as opposite as could be. Her uniform was wrinkled and worn, and dirt and grime covered both it and the rest of her in dark smears, something which she appeared to be quite accustomed to if the impassive way in which she was wiping her hands on the scrap of grease cloth that she was holding was anything to go by. An unfocused glance might have even briefly perceived two layers of grime, but closer inspection would have revealed her skin and hair to be splotched with contrasting spots of pigment.
Colouration and presentation aside, she otherwise appeared to be a normal young, negro woman of very average size and build, although something about her looked particularly sturdy. Her eyes were uncommonly bright, but brown in colour, and her hair was pulled back into a careless -yet still within regulation- ponytail.
Still, despite everything about her outward characteristics and manner, she gave off such an air of strength and confidence that in her own way she seemed very professional indeed. As though no matter what task was given her, she would get the job done on sheer force of will alone. A conflict of perception perhaps, but no less the truth- although it was possibly contributed to by the additional aloofness with which she seemed to look at everything.
As she was now so looking at the sergeant before whom she was standing.
One dark brow arched slightly, the only indication of her curiosity as her honey brown eyes scanned the sandy blond man coolly from behind rectangular lenses. Not enough of a reaction registered in her face to indicate her thoughts on what she saw, if any at all. Neither did she say anything else or give any introduction, simply waiting in steady calm for a reply to her question.
@Bazmund Your character remembers stuff? (And is locked in his room still?)
MP-6736-OPEN
Possible Targets: @BCTheEntity@Bazmund@Randomness
Location: Personal Containment Cell 34-P [Purple Ward]
The flickering lights in room 34-P were accompanied by white noise cutting in and out on a lone television along the back wall. The sound of it spilled out the open door and into the hallway, filling the silence with its soft, stuttered monotony while pale blue and harsh red glows alternated in illuminating the sparse chamber and the hooded boy within.
He sat upon the simple bed, body slumped against the wall and arms draped about his knees, causing him to look even smaller than he already was. One might have perceived in looking at him that he was in a state of panic from the strangeness going on around him, save that his posture was too slack and his dark eyes registered no reaction as they stared blankly ahead. To say that he could neither see nor hear any of it would not be entirely true, but it was all very distant to him. Muffled, even, as though being seen and heard from underwater.
The sound of someone calling out in the hallway caused his mind to begin to stir, slowly and lethargically, breaking gradually through the thick haze which weighed him down. Not enough to actually shake it off, however, let alone to find voice or motivation to respond. Cohesive thoughts still eluded him, and everything felt empty. As such, there was no sense of urgency within him to fully awaken. The only thing which had yet occurred to him was the vague sense that he was beginning to have things occur to him.
Something which also brought with it a sick sort of feeling that it was not such a good thing.
He sat upon the simple bed, body slumped against the wall and arms draped about his knees, causing him to look even smaller than he already was. One might have perceived in looking at him that he was in a state of panic from the strangeness going on around him, save that his posture was too slack and his dark eyes registered no reaction as they stared blankly ahead. To say that he could neither see nor hear any of it would not be entirely true, but it was all very distant to him. Muffled, even, as though being seen and heard from underwater.
The sound of someone calling out in the hallway caused his mind to begin to stir, slowly and lethargically, breaking gradually through the thick haze which weighed him down. Not enough to actually shake it off, however, let alone to find voice or motivation to respond. Cohesive thoughts still eluded him, and everything felt empty. As such, there was no sense of urgency within him to fully awaken. The only thing which had yet occurred to him was the vague sense that he was beginning to have things occur to him.
Something which also brought with it a sick sort of feeling that it was not such a good thing.
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