[hider=Sal the Conjurer] [center] [h3][color=mediumslateblue]Sal the Conjurer[/color][/h3] [img]http://i64.tinypic.com/2z8vl0p.jpg[/img] [/center] [color=mediumslateblue][b]Name:[/b][/color] Sally "Sal" Lou [color=mediumslateblue][b]Gender:[/b][/color] Female [color=mediumslateblue][b]Type:[/b][/color] Human, with a hint of extra-planar blood. [color=mediumslateblue][b]Appearance:[/b][/color] Sal stands just below average height, and possess the physique of an unexpectedly active wizard. She enjoys swimming and when not spending an evening on the job, she's never far from a dance floor. Her skin is pale, and together with her features serves to obfuscate her origins, and cloak in her mystery. A fact that she takes great pleasure in, and does nothing to resolve. She keeps her hair shoulder length, and dyed a dark purple bordering on midnight blue, with a single long braid wrapped in red silk reaching to the top of her chest. Sal has meticulously maintained eyebrows, and her amber eyes are framed by tasteful, if vaguely Gothic, use of eye shadow and eye liner. Restless by nature, the conjurer exudes brash confidence and unwavering curiosity, untempered by age, in equal measure. Sal is modest dresser, favoring black jeans, black t-shirts, canvas sneakers, and at most a warm sweater, unless the weather or the occasion demands differently. She is rarely found outside without an antique silk and gingham umbrella. Framed with beautiful cherry wood, adorned with silver, and possessing an alarmingly sharp tip in the same metallic material the umbrella protects it's bearer from the elements and unwelcome strangers, although Sal would never admit as much. [color=mediumslateblue][b]Age:[/b][/color] Sal is in her early twenties, and looks like it. [color=mediumslateblue][b]Powers/Traits:[/b][/color] Sal is a mostly-human hedge mage focused on the magical schools of [color=mediumslateblue]mysticism[/color] and [color=mediumslateblue]conjuration[/color]. Following an LSD-fueled journey through the Astral Plane, she has acquired an army of tiny, vaguely monstrous, rowdy, and drunken creatures that [i][color=mediumslateblue]generally[/color][/i] follow her commands. The creatures are led by a warlord, Gir the Mighty, and appear to be on the cusp of establishing a proper, if exceedingly violent, miniature society. They have yet to fully master fire, but the diminutive creatures have made excellent progress in regards to animal husbandry, and they have managed to train a small number of rats and pigeons to serve as their trusty steeds. [color=mediumslateblue][b]Background:[/b][/color] [hider=In a Questionable Dive Bar] "You could have been so much more," Richard said with a slow shake of his head. He was disappointed. He always was. Working for Bain & Hoyle was slumming it as far as the slightly older wizard was concerned. Proper wizards didn't need to debase themselves, they didn't need to sell their services to the highest bidder, and they certainly didn't need to work as a gloried errand girl. "Sure, but then I'd have ended up like you," Sal said, taking a lazy drag from what remained of the cigarette she held between her fingertips. She'd quit for the better part of a week, but visits from her brother left precious little resolve left to fight off the nicotine devil that perpetually gnawed at her soul. It was fine. It wasn't a problem. She wasn't some mundane mortal. She'd cast so many protective spells that the greatest danger the carcinogenic cigarette still offered was the yellow stains that it would leave on her finger tips. Still, she felt guilty, at least a bit. She'd promised. "A famous wizard?" "A miserable person, a right proper c—." "Ugh. For once, can you show a bit of class?" "Nah, we can't all be high class wizards that graduated from some [i]fancy[/i] arcane university and made friends with the big-wigs of the veiled world," Sal quipped. "We're not all that insufferable." "You could have gone, you chose not to." "It wasn't my scene. Magic shouldn't work that way. It's not about a bunch of formal rules and silly theories, it's a feeling, it's about finding something out for yourself," Sal mused losing herself in the glass of whiskey that she was still nursing. "Do you always have to be such a bohemian? I swear, you're the definition of a magical hipster," Richard countered, chuckling at his own joke. "I love annoying you too much to change, dear brother," Sal happily replied, withdrawing another cigarette from the packet that she had tossed on the table minutes earlier, and lighting another cigarette with well-practiced ease. Savoring the sweet, sweet nicotine kiss that enveloped her good feels, Sal did her best to pretend her brother wasn't there. They'd had this conversation before, it was a familiar dance. Her brother would mention that her parents were worried. He'd offer to use some of his connections. He'd offer her a job, after a nice vacation of course. She'd say no, of course. Just like she had done every other time. And just like she would do every other time in the future. She wasn't going back, not now, not ever. There was too much to see, too many planes to explore, and too much to discover. Contemplating the whiskey that she sipped from a dirty enough glass, Sal could not help but notice that Richard watched the small creatures that she had brought with her with palatable disgust, and an ugly sneer on his lips. He was never very good with new people, much less inhuman creatures, she remembered sadly. He was far too conventional. A magical yuppie, a financial district wizard, through and through. Pure torture. Sal had to bury her laughter in her drink as her brother pulled his hand away with a sudden jolt. One of the creatures had moved closer to examine the glass of wine that the wizard had ordered but left untouched. "Should they really be here?" he fumed. "This isn't some zoo, you know." "Oh, I wouldn't worry. The bartender is a troll, this is place that uninitiated mortals do not wander into, not even by accident," Sal asserted, ignoring the implication that her new friends had no place in the dive bar. She resented the very idea. What was a dive bar if didn't welcome a tribe of extraplaner monsters, tiny as they were, past it's warded doors? Standards had no place in fine establishments like Gruzgob's Bar and Restaurant. After all, if cockroaches were tolerated, if not openly welcomed, then Sal's new friends deserved at least to be treated like particularly rowdy and dangerous customers. "Mmm, I don't know," Sal honestly answered, blowing a cloud of smoke in front of her. "Not entirely. I found them. Didn't have time to ask too many question." "You found them?" "Yes," Sal grumbled. "That's what I said." "Where did you find them?" "No idea," Sal answered apathetically as she carefully handed, Gir, Gir the Mighty as he preferred to be called, what remained of her whiskey. The glass was nearly as tall as he was, but it didn't appear to slow him down. Sal had quickly learned that the warlord and his followers were very amendable to all forms of alcohol-based diplomacy. It was best to keep them drinking. Otherwise they had a nasty habit of finding troublesome activities to occupy their attentions. "How do you bring creatures into the Material Plane and forget where you found them?!" "I can't be certain, at least not entirely, but I think it was the two tabs of magically infused LSD I took before I hopped dimensions that did it." "You what—" "I had no idea that the acid would be that strong. Last time, they weren't half as potent. Well, whatever," Sal concluded philosophically, waving a hand in the air as kaleidoscope memories of the psychedelic drip rushed over her. "As it turns out, extraplanar travel is much harder when you are completely blasted out of your mind..." "You're a child." "You're just jealous, bet you haven't even crossed the planes, yet, Mr. I'm-A-Proper-Fucking-Wizard," Sal jeered. She wasn't going to be lectured by some schoolboy wizard, not this time. "Of course not, as you [b]know[/b] extraplanar travels is heavily restricted," Richard scoffed, sulking. Sal could sense that the advantage had shifted, and she smiled. With the grin still teasing at the edge of her mouth, she watched as one of the small creatures throw a sharpened toothpick it had fashioned into a spear into a cockroach that had crawled onto the bar counter-top. The tiny monster shouted out a battle cry as it pounced on the languishing insect that was impaled against the wood. Sal couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle, and was happy to see that her unwelcome companion recoiled with disgust at the violent scene unfolding on the countertop. "What vile monsters." "I think they're cute," Sal countered. "You're paying right?" She asked, blowing a cloud of smoke into Richard's face as she stood without waiting and headed towards the door. She'd had enough of sibling bonding. The tiny extraplaner monsters scrambled after her. "Wait!" Sal didn't stop, and once Gir and his followers had made it outside, she let the door shut loudly behind. Alone with the tribe of monsters, a smile played briefly across her lips as she strode down the dark and empty street. Despite her good mood, she had a terrible, certain feeling that she'd receive a text from Atticus any moment now, asking her to come in to the office, telling her there was work to be done. She hated working. It was too bad that she still had the month's rent to pay. [/hider] [/hider]