Re: The Fearsome Encounter (GBS3G8) [Signups!]
08-10-2011, 06:41 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.
Name: Ven Mitigas
Gender: Female
Race: Weird human
Colour: #4F2F4F
Items/Abilities: Ven has been occupying herself with all the wrong people and hobbies since she left the paved, often trod path of the School of Arcane Magic. Once a friend introduced her to slightly alternative magic, such as pendants, fortune telling, puppeteering and what have you, her road to fame was a very steep path down into the occult. The tome she carries with her to the battle is a black, rather slim book with the only strip of colour being the deep purple string inside of it, a skull-emblazoned bookmark.
Aside from being a powerful and competent mage, Ven has a specific knack for summoning. Her familiars go by the name of Aas. An Aa is about the size of a tennis ball, slightly smaller, and is adorned on the black surface by tiny hollow tubes. Aas attack in a very specific way. Aiming straight at your throat, they latch into it with the tiny tubes on their surface, right around the vocal chords. From there, they excrete some sort of magical pheromone that triggers an intense susceptibility to fear, as well as evoking the most horrible of nightmares that you've ever encountered, even subconsciously, all to make you scream in agony. Those screams get converted by the Aa at your throat into a strange faintly blue substance that courses throught the Aa's tube conduit. Once the Aa is fully charged, it rashly cuts itself loose, leaving tiny gaping holes right through your larynx. Usually, the victim dies on impact. When the Aa returns to Ven, she can use the blue liquid as a supercondensed source of mana, fortifying her body and allowing her to cast eldritch spells that would otherwise drive her to insanity. Including, among others, summoning more Aas.
Description: The touch of time and black magic took its toll on Ven's face. Her hair is not yet white, but the type of chalky black you would not yet expect on a 40-year-old woman. She keeps it loose, and left it growing over many years, so long and wiry that by the time it reaches its end near her waist, it has knotted together almost like a very messy braid. Her skin has been sapped of life, and bears wrinkles that make her seem at least ten years older.
Her dress was once a bleak white gown, with a black split in the underside and matching sleeves. To store the inert Aas that only serve purpose as containers for magical fuel, she wears a bright red shawl that functions as a satchel over one shoulder, which she tucked inside her robes, and attached to them firmly with golden clips. Over the course of her many victims, the robes got besmirched with blood, but she hasn't even considered washing it out, believing it to be part of her job. Her boots and gloves are black, but the latter has also met its share of red stains over time. She wears a long black metal collar to prevent any haywire Aas from attacking her instead, and bronze bracelets that also got coloured red.
Her sanity is, as you'd expect from someone too immersed in dubious magic, questionable. While she usually stands calm and collected, and can even prove a decent ally, it doesn't take a lot to provoke her and turn her into a cold-blooded maniac. She can snap and attack without warning, so anyone who seeks her out would to well to watch their necks. Still, even when she goes nuts she maintains at least a modicum of sense, and can still fight against, say, a common enemy instead of an ally.
Biography
“Rise, Ven.”
Ven woke up, no memory of falling asleep, or of her life before that point. Shaking, she slowly stood straight, and walked towards the only source of light she could see.
“Drink, Ven.”
The dim light of the candles led her towards a basin of black liquid, which she could only describe as appalling. Between all candles around the round bath, in glimmering red dust a heptagram was drawn out.
Hesitantly she dropped to her knees, and cupped the bile in her hands. As she drank, she felt her limbs grow colder.
“Die, Ven.”
Ven took special care to enter the water with her left leg first, and slowly approached the center of the shimmering shape.
Slowly she lowered her body, further, even further, until the sound of the waves and the guidance of the voice above got drowned out by her beating heart.
“Be buried in the lake.”
If she was anything before this moment, she wouldn't want to remember, for it would only be memories she'd lose. Her heart was beating so fast, but the cold water was freezing her down.
“May those of the dark beneath have mercy.”
She couldn't hear anything but her heart anymore.
Th-Thump.
Th-Thump.
"May you live in both the realm of the dead and the living as you leave these blackened tides."
Th-Thump.
Until very faintly, at the other side of the lake, she heard someone else call her.
"not yet."
Name: Ven Mitigas
Gender: Female
Race: Weird human
Colour: #4F2F4F
Items/Abilities: Ven has been occupying herself with all the wrong people and hobbies since she left the paved, often trod path of the School of Arcane Magic. Once a friend introduced her to slightly alternative magic, such as pendants, fortune telling, puppeteering and what have you, her road to fame was a very steep path down into the occult. The tome she carries with her to the battle is a black, rather slim book with the only strip of colour being the deep purple string inside of it, a skull-emblazoned bookmark.
Aside from being a powerful and competent mage, Ven has a specific knack for summoning. Her familiars go by the name of Aas. An Aa is about the size of a tennis ball, slightly smaller, and is adorned on the black surface by tiny hollow tubes. Aas attack in a very specific way. Aiming straight at your throat, they latch into it with the tiny tubes on their surface, right around the vocal chords. From there, they excrete some sort of magical pheromone that triggers an intense susceptibility to fear, as well as evoking the most horrible of nightmares that you've ever encountered, even subconsciously, all to make you scream in agony. Those screams get converted by the Aa at your throat into a strange faintly blue substance that courses throught the Aa's tube conduit. Once the Aa is fully charged, it rashly cuts itself loose, leaving tiny gaping holes right through your larynx. Usually, the victim dies on impact. When the Aa returns to Ven, she can use the blue liquid as a supercondensed source of mana, fortifying her body and allowing her to cast eldritch spells that would otherwise drive her to insanity. Including, among others, summoning more Aas.
Description: The touch of time and black magic took its toll on Ven's face. Her hair is not yet white, but the type of chalky black you would not yet expect on a 40-year-old woman. She keeps it loose, and left it growing over many years, so long and wiry that by the time it reaches its end near her waist, it has knotted together almost like a very messy braid. Her skin has been sapped of life, and bears wrinkles that make her seem at least ten years older.
Her dress was once a bleak white gown, with a black split in the underside and matching sleeves. To store the inert Aas that only serve purpose as containers for magical fuel, she wears a bright red shawl that functions as a satchel over one shoulder, which she tucked inside her robes, and attached to them firmly with golden clips. Over the course of her many victims, the robes got besmirched with blood, but she hasn't even considered washing it out, believing it to be part of her job. Her boots and gloves are black, but the latter has also met its share of red stains over time. She wears a long black metal collar to prevent any haywire Aas from attacking her instead, and bronze bracelets that also got coloured red.
Her sanity is, as you'd expect from someone too immersed in dubious magic, questionable. While she usually stands calm and collected, and can even prove a decent ally, it doesn't take a lot to provoke her and turn her into a cold-blooded maniac. She can snap and attack without warning, so anyone who seeks her out would to well to watch their necks. Still, even when she goes nuts she maintains at least a modicum of sense, and can still fight against, say, a common enemy instead of an ally.
Biography
“Rise, Ven.”
Ven woke up, no memory of falling asleep, or of her life before that point. Shaking, she slowly stood straight, and walked towards the only source of light she could see.
“Drink, Ven.”
The dim light of the candles led her towards a basin of black liquid, which she could only describe as appalling. Between all candles around the round bath, in glimmering red dust a heptagram was drawn out.
Hesitantly she dropped to her knees, and cupped the bile in her hands. As she drank, she felt her limbs grow colder.
“Die, Ven.”
Ven took special care to enter the water with her left leg first, and slowly approached the center of the shimmering shape.
Slowly she lowered her body, further, even further, until the sound of the waves and the guidance of the voice above got drowned out by her beating heart.
“Be buried in the lake.”
If she was anything before this moment, she wouldn't want to remember, for it would only be memories she'd lose. Her heart was beating so fast, but the cold water was freezing her down.
“May those of the dark beneath have mercy.”
She couldn't hear anything but her heart anymore.
Th-Thump.
Th-Thump.
"May you live in both the realm of the dead and the living as you leave these blackened tides."
Th-Thump.
Until very faintly, at the other side of the lake, she heard someone else call her.
"not yet."
quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur.