Ti@ProPro Mine is done, I think.
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Mallaidh Lynch
"Some days it takes all I have not to give up"
Name: Mallaidh Lynch (born Malcom)
Alias: Molly
Age: 22
Gender: Female (assigned male at birth)
Nationality: Ireland
Appearance: A quasi-androgynous face is mostly hidden beneath a mop of orange hair that spills in thick curls to halfway down her neck. An aquiline nose pokes past the curtain of fringe, which comes to a stop above faintly painted lips – as though makeup was applied and smeared away repeatedly. Her eyes, if one was able to see them, sparkle in the light, a pale blue. The clothing she wears varies, but a common thread is that it is always oversized and lumpy, hiding her physique beneath folds of multiple layers.
History:
Sin: Sloth – Molly often takes the path of least resistance, not enjoying the pressure of challenge of pushing her limits.
Virtue: Humility – partly due to the extremely low opinion she has of herself, and partly due to her religious upbringing.
Personality: The driving force behind many of her actions is the desire to be accepted. She gets great gratification from validation, something she has been starved of. Because of this she tends to pay a lot of compliments, though is extremely self-conscious. She will warm quickly to kind and calm people, but generally distances herself from those that are too loud as she finds them abrasive. If you were to ask her, she’d say her best qualities are her capacity for forgiveness and her open-mindedness.
Skills:
Basic Lock-picking – Since her pact requires a window to not be locked, she figured it’d be a good idea to learn how to unlock them without a key. Only having read the first few chapters of an instructional manual on the subject, and having no practice, since the window she found was already open, her knowledge is limited. It is doubtful she’d be able to open anything but the most rudimentary of locks.
Dewey Decimal System Knowledge – having spent time as an assistant librarian, Molly is fluent in the classification system.
Knot tying – Despite not going into the same business as her family, it does not mean they did not try to make her. She knows a wide variety of knots for multiple situations, and what would be most applicable when.
Speed Reader – She can read about twice as fast as is average for somebody her age.
Equipment: A reel of blue ribbon and lock-picking book, and a dog-eared book of poems with "M.L. + B.R." written inside a scribbled heart on the first page.
Other: "I walk this path alone, who would walk with me?"
Pacts
Name: Neem
Titles: The Empty
Ranking: 1
Domains: Lies and Trickery, Summer Nights, Despair, Empty Spaces, Dreaming
Appearance: Often Neem will appear as a simple face or the vague semblance of a body in negative space, preferring natural formations, such as those from clouds, or leaves snared by the wind. The voice that accompanies invades your mind, slow and sombre.
Gifts:
- Gift Name: Augmented intonation
- Effect: After paying the cost Molly must sleep before receiving her boon, but thereafter, for one day she will have the capability of perfectly mimicking up to three different voices, provided she has heard them before.
- Cost: The cost is simple enough: one must find an unlocked bed room window belonging to a young child, or unlock it themselves, and mark it with a length blue ribbon, tied in a bow. Being detected during the process voids the payment.
Summon Cost: Her most prized possession and an object made of gold must be destroyed.
We can take our time and puppet them, and it that'll give us some fodder in certain situations, and they could act as catalysts for events?
Looks pretty neat. I hope to have my CS up sometime tomorrow.
Kean Jossun
Kean hadn’t dismounted as the Templar ordered, part born from petulance, but mainly due to his extreme exhaustion; it had been almost three days now since he’d slept, so in that moment you may as well have asked him to clear a mountain with a single bound – it wasn’t happening. As a result, whilst he was peering at whatever the shadowy beast could have been, he was almost thrown from his horse. Its crest struck him in the chin. His body lolled. His neck snapped back dangerously fast. Yet his thighs gripped the beast tightly; having spent more time on horseback the past week than he had on his own two feet, or in a bed, it was second nature. Iron and copper pangs swilled around his mouth. He lurched forward, midsection set ablaze from the effort. Snatching up a handful of mane, he steadied himself, and patted the blue mare’s neck. It bristled but calmed.
“Fuck,” he muttered, spitting a glob of red into the grass.
All that had happened so quickly, but now the silhouette had stepped into the light, and an abomination was revealed.
“Fuck,” he said again. The respite of sleep had been so close.
"Brennen, Kean, secure the horses away from here! The rest of you, get ready. Don't let it get a hold of you, or you're as good as dead."
As Kean began dismounting, that thing, the scorned, charged. He hobbled, bow-legged and saddle-sore beyond what he ever thought possible, gathering up the reins of his horse and another's. The whites of their eyes were all too visible. They were well-trained, having not yet bolted, but the whinnying and twitching and ragged breathing belied their disposition.
"Take them to the other side of the road!"
Kean stared at Brennen, but, after a moment, nodded mutely. He eased on the reigns, slowly adding more strength as the horses came with him.
Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the Fae ascend heavenwards. He turned, his step quickening as he pulled the horses further. The sigh of loosed bolts was unmistakeable behind him.
“Fuck.”
I've been catching up with other rps I was nearly overdue on. I'll most likely find time to post here tomorrow, but might squeeze a post out later today, if inspiration strikes.
William Viridian
Location: X-mansion
“Oh, right, I thought you might’ve been, I dunno, related?” He shrugged, “Or something… Guess not.”
Sleep? If he slept now he’d end up missing most of the day and spending the night wide-awake. No, he couldn’t let that happen. Even if he was exhausted. Food, then distractions – books, music, anything. Will let the others leave first, only following when it was apparent Sara was waiting. He looked at her from time to time when she spoke, but when he answered, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground in front of his feet.
“Because I’m different, like everyone here, but not exactly the same, just not normal,” He clamped his mouth shut with a wince, then snorted, “Not that there's anything wrong with not 'normal'."
"Why I'm here is complicated. Well, I guess not really, but, like, my mum, she knew Xavier, uh, the Professor from back when she was… More public. When it was obvious I was different, like her, and my dad, I guess she thought it best to ask X- the Professor’s advice. After some talk, here I am,” he said, gesturing to the school around them. “To learn how to use it somewhere safe, and control it, for,” a pause as he thought, but the words eluded him, “whatever.”
As they walked, he chewed over what she had said of herself, then glanced at her sidelong.“How come it took so long to get in? An ability like yours seems, you know, confusing and kick-ass.”
Lilith the Cambion
Team B
Brimstone Avenue, a regular haunt for Lilith. Excess and gluttony carved a niche for her to settle, yet somehow it was more honest than its earthly counterpart; it lacked the pretence, had its façade stripped away – this wasn’t wrong here, they were the demons and the damned. And without the sweetness of sin, the lies the mortals told themselves and others, the hope and despair and desperation, the cheating and the wanton avarice and greed… Lilith shifted on her bar stool. The place just lacked that certain… “je ne sais quoi”.
Lilith sat at the bar wearing skin that was not her own. She sat alone. Heat haze mixed with cigarette smoke and sulphurous fumes to veil much of the establishment in obscurity. On the bar stood a drink, liquid vice, as of yet untouched; the froth writhed in its chalice, having lost all appeal the moment she bought it, almost one hour ago now. Some had spilled, and Lilith was drawing patterns across the wood with one hand whilst her chin rested in the other as she stared off into space, the motion almost hypnotizing with its fluidity. In the grain of the wood one might think they saw faces, drawn long in agony. One might also swear they shuddered and contorted away from her touch.
The woman was the very picture of elegance, with porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, and glossy curls of spun gold. Her demeanour was a veneer of dignity and amusement; a smile toyed at the edges of her lips as if there was a joke only she was in on. It would not be amiss to call her outfit “de rigueur”, for the World Above, draped in a dress of deep red silk as she was, its lack of sleeves revealing arms of that creamy complexion – pale and smooth. Her signature, rose-tinted shades were in place, out of habit rather than necessity down here, but they had invariably become part of her identity.
Eventually the smile soured, and a sigh slithered from between a painted pout of cherry red. Business. That’s what she was here for. Reality was a most unwelcome depart from her reverie. She left, the sultry supposition in the serpentine sway of her hips one most of those Below were wise enough to abstain from entertaining.
Big Red was not hard to find; Lilith knew the locality well enough to find the Hotel described by the Message Imp with relative ease. Big Red himself stood out like, well, like a gargantuan red-mass of muscle dressed in a tailored suit. Such juxtaposition was not too uncommon though, much to Lilith’s regular delight. Yet his piercing glare and air of impatience scattered the gathering amusement. They had met before only once, and Lilith knew enough that it would be folly to get on his bad side. She approached.
“Big Red, I am so deeply sorry for my tardiness,” she said sincerely. Then her tone froze over quickly with the icy severity of business, one hand resting upon her hip as she gestured at the empty space around them with the other, “It was my impression we were expecting others, no?”
Is 5 a hard limit, or is there some leeway if it seems warranted?
Oh, I didn't mean to make it sound like that - take all the time you need. Was just that you said you'd try to post, so I thought I may as well wait.
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