Lyla

Masks & Magic: The Awakening

@Yankee - Going to have to add Clara now too, haha. As for the NPCs...

Commander Mara Hensley — 5'10"
Captain Jonah Redd — 6'3"
Dr. Theo Brandt — 5'7"
Elias Tran - 5'11"
Kira Voss - 5'6"
Sarah Oaks - 5'4"
Juniper “June” Mallory - 5'2"
Rashad Edden - 6'0"

Masks & Magic: The Awakening

@Vec - Only shift is her vision, because heroes see a woman standing in the waters of a mountain lake, offering their weapon and speaking a message only they can hear - though I'd be completely fine with her being an observer while the unicorn talked to her. It's my fault for not including it in the CS, so oops - sorry!

Otherwise Clara is approved!

Bloodbound & Broken

Lyselle was so lost at first, swimming in a sea of fear over what might happen, that she hardly registered the vampiress closing the distance. Even as young as Lys was compared to her companion, her feelings had been built over decades of repetition — drilled into her from a very young age — and those kinds of instincts were always difficult to erase. Then, while she was drowning in that ocean of despair, something shifted: like sunlight filtering through water at dawn, guiding her, directing her, keeping her from sinking completely.

“They will not kill you,” she heard, blinking her misty eyes as she looked up at the centuries-old creature. “And nor will I.”

The soft voice was so soothing, so genuine, that Lyselle couldn’t help but part her lips in surprise. A small puff of breath escaped her when she felt the cold hand on her cheek, fingers sliding beneath her chin to guide her gaze upward, and the final touch settling on her shoulder. She couldn’t help but marvel — letting a vampire comfort her. And the most surprising part was the way that touch felt through the mystic thread connecting them: strangely warm, like it reached beneath her skin.

Something deep between them pulsed — baffling the young hunter. It felt like she could hear a whispered heartbeat inside the vampiress’ silent chest, as though something ancient was being coaxed back to life. It was perplexing and intoxicating all at once, making her suddenly aware of her own blood, her own heartbeat thundering behind her ears. It was as if the closer they stood, the stronger the supernatural thread pulled them toward each other — reminiscent of tales of reincarnated lovers finding one another after death, bringing a soft blush to her pale cheeks.

“Come with me. Let’s go someplace safe, just until we figure this ordeal out.”

Without even realizing she’d done it, Lyselle nodded — the bond moving her body before her thoughts could catch up. As easily as breathing, she rose to her feet and simply stared at the age-old woman before her, willing to follow her anywhere, wherever this was meant to lead.

Yet faint echoes of doubt and shame still rippled through her subconscious — flashes of mentors, peers, the familiar scent of the old church, the weight of duty. Questions she didn’t want to answer. Fear she didn’t want to confront.

And still… she couldn’t help herself.

The way she felt the vampiress — beneath her skin, in her bones, in the ember glow of her very soul — there were barely words for it. It was as if she had finally found “home” after being lost her entire life… even if that realization came hand-in-hand with confusion.

Bloodbound & Broken

As the man scrambled with his weapon and lifted it to line another shot, he already felt it — his body moving sluggishly, like wet sand dragging at his limbs.
“No..!” he growled, gritting his teeth, trying to fight the nightmarish sleep by sheer will alone. Darkness took him far faster than he expected. He clenched his fists, shaking with fury, and just before slumping to the ground he cast one last look toward the huntress — a look sharp enough to cut, venomous and betrayed.
“H-how… c-could…” There was no more struggle. His body sprawled across the sidewalk, swallowed by moonlight as he slipped into the nightmares that Blood Magic promised.

Now, only the two women remained — one standing over the other in quiet, intense questioning, and the other wrestling with a storm of her own making. What had she done? Her whole life, Lyselle had been told, taught, trained, drilled: vampires were evil. And yet here she was, staring dumbstruck at the very woman she had just saved from a hunter.

“I…”

Words failed her. Thoughts flickered across her face like frames of a film — confusion, worry, awe, doubt, and that same confusion again. Slowly, she lowered herself into a side-sitting position. Her eyes fixed onto the vampiress’ black-heeled boots, unable to meet her gaze, unable to process the enormity of what she’d done.

‘What have I done?’
‘What am I doing? Why? If… if I let her go, I’m betraying my order — the people who raised me. But… can I really bring myself to hunt her?’
‘Why does she feel so real? Like everything before this was just some giant… circus act. Fuck… what am I going to do? Where am I going to go?’

Lys lifted the back of her hand to her forehead as if checking for a fever. A sigh escaped her, shoulders falling, eyes shifting aside — ashamed, overwhelmed.

“He… must’ve… come looking for me when he realized I had left — looking for him,” she managed.
“I–… I didn’t mean for… this… whatever… this is… gods…”

Her hand fell, fingers brushing the sigil. She broke it with a swipe, wiping away the symbols that kept it functioning.
“Might as well…”

She hesitated before the next words, throat tightening.

“… kill me… if you don’t, they will…”

Her expression spoke what she could not: a whirl of fear, guilt, clarity, devastation.
Betraying the very thing she had sworn to uphold — the thing her entire life had been built upon.
A single woman had made her question everything.
And she knew what awaited her if Delwyn ever woke and returned to the Vigil.

There was no forgiveness for traitors.
No second chances.
Just death.

All those smiles, all that praise —
the admiration,
the jealousy of her peers,
the quiet pride of being someone special,
the crushing weight of becoming a legend,
the lonely rooftops at sunrise and sunset —

all of it blew away like dust in a sandstorm.
Gone in one night.

She waited for her appointed death at the hands of the very creature she was trained to destroy… because the only alternative was a life on the run. And she couldn’t decide which fate was easier, or which she even wanted. She would never have a normal life.

That was stolen from her the moment the Vigil adopted her — long before she even understood what “normal” meant.

Not like the people she watched in daylight —
going to work,
laughing in groups,
sharing coffee,
having families,
holding hands,
speaking in simple, everyday conversations with infinite possibilities…

Things she would never know.

Masks & Magic: The Awakening

@TruckKun - To be honest with you, I feel the concept is a little weaker then I'd prefer. Which isn't bad in of itself, but not exactly what I'm looking for at the moment.

Bloodbound & Broken

The man showed his years by refusing to flinch even in the face of an ancient. He loaded another bolt into his crossbow, but this shot would be different. His features twisted with malice and pain as he watched his prey dart from side to side. A growl followed by a scowl, then he aimed again. He was clearly skilled with this weapon — perhaps the one he had honed above all others — tracking the vampiress’ movement as she swayed midair.

With another click, a bolt flew toward the winged nightmare, but this time the head expanded and released a net made of blessed silver. It snapped open, glistening in the moonlight as it hurtled toward the place where the vampire hovered above the street.

'No…!' Lyselle thought, familiar with the tactic Delwyn was employing — setting her new companion up to be captured and tortured like her offspring. Her body moved on its own, lifting a hand as she felt life-energy pour from her core and out through her fingertips.

Light illuminated the street as etchings formed in the air, drawn with the efficiency and grace of hours upon hours of practice. She finished just in time — the net poised to wrap around the winged woman — but instead a pillar of light blasted outward and slammed the silver against the brick wall opposite Ren.

The sigil glowed and ebbed for several moments before fading, leaving a panicked Lys standing there.

'Why did I do that!?'

Delwyn’s head snapped toward her, hatred burning behind his eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing, Lyselle!? She’s a damn vampire! Kill her!!"

Too focused on his prey to waste more than a heartbeat on the girl, he loaded another bolt, untying a scroll and tossing it to the ground. Ren could see the sigil written on it — a trap, perhaps — or something to buy him time.

Still shaken by everything happening and the chaos erupting around her, she called after the vampiress, “please don’t kill him!” Her voice was earnest, genuine, pleading — clearly not even wanting the fight to be happening at all.

She wasn’t sure she had the strength to cast another Script so soon, so she fumbled for her throwing knives instead — she had always preferred them to Delwyn’s wrist crossbow. They suited her quick hands better than that clunky thing he trusted so completely.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat —
a threat to the first woman who ever spoke her name, who ever whispered to her very soul.

Still… she didn’t want him to die either.

Bloodbound & Broken

As the vampiress spoke her name, a shiver raced down her spine, like hearing someone whisper it into her ear. The weight, the gravity, with which she felt the reply was difficult to put into words. It was like she had been waiting her whole life to hear it spoken — lost in the current of human subconsciousness until this very day, where it rang out as clear as a church bell in a silent crowd. A slight gasp slid from her lips, causing her to let her guard down and look at the other woman with confusion, even as the grip on her blade tightened further.

“It was you… I felt one of my kin pass over tonight… It was your doing?” Lys’ mouth went slightly agape at the question, realization crossing her features. This was the fledgling’s sire? He had mentioned she was stronger, but she had not expected it to be this stunning creature who now slowly inched her way over. The huntress found herself nodding in the middle of her thoughts, replying instinctively to the question with utmost honesty. If anyone else were here, they would either call Lyselle a foolish girl or assume she had been dominated. The former must’ve been the case then, because Lys felt no pressure, no tingling of being controlled — something she had experienced once or twice before.

Though for Lyselle, it didn’t feel like foolishness, even as whispers in her mind echoed to never trust their kind. Instead, it felt like some strange cosmic design urging her to lower her weapon when asked, her facial features softening.

“I-… I’m sorr—”

Suddenly, like the lightning in the distance, a bolt of silver whistled through the air, aiming straight for Ren’s chest.

“No, it was my doing!”

The shadow-haired hunter spun her head toward the familiar voice — Delwyn! His face twisted into a hateful snarl before he looked to Lys. He didn’t seem surprised or concerned for her at all and instead fixed his gaze on the vampiress, snapping up his arm to release his wrist-mounted crossbow without hesitation, truly showing the difference in experience — and in contempt.

Lyselle gasped as she watched the bolt shoot across from the side, reaching her hand out as if to guard the vampiress from harm, no other thought in her head besides this binding that was tying her and the creature together.

“W-wait!” she shouted, feeling time slow to a crawl, an almost panic overwhelming the young hunter. She had just found something — something incredible, something wholly unique, something she had never felt before — and the silver shining across the empty road threatened to end it all.

Not only that, but she had thought vampires incapable of feeling anything but the desire to destroy… and what she had seen cross her once-opponent’s face was nothing short of human emotion.

Was the Vigil wrong this whole time?
Was their hatred for their prey so absolute that they refused to see the truth?

She was afraid Delwyn would never understand this, but she had to do something.

Bloodbound & Broken

Watching the vampiress descend definitely put her on edge, those echoing words about having to actually fight now pulling back her free hand as she watched every minute detail of her enemy she could — so focused that she didn’t even notice the street growing darker. And hell, if anyone else had been around to witness this, she wouldn’t have noticed them either. Hunters were less careful about being seen if it meant killing one of their prey, but they were a secretive sort too. After all, who wanted the government showing up and locking you away while they tried to slay the very creature you'd been trained your whole life to kill? No one, that’s who. Not to mention the need to keep their own secrets hidden, especially with vampires having penetrated every level of high society and government.

What broke her concentration, though, was the shift in tone from the other woman. Lyselle’s eyes fluttered in shock. Was she... trying to make a truce? Did the ancient vampiress see Lyselle as a threat or was it… something else? Watching a vampire — of all things — hold her hands out as if trying to calm her like a feral cat was not something she had ever expected. In truth, she had never seen this type of behavior from any undead she had met before. Even when threatened, vampires would bargain or seduce before they’d ever attempt to soothe their opponent. Either from fear or the need to keep the heart pumping. Calming down their “food” went against their own nature. Was her sworn enemy playing some other game she couldn’t see?

Suspicion was natural. But then she remembered the man.

...but there was something in 'its' eyes that gave her pause. It felt different from the other hunts. It almost felt like the creature was hurting — almost like, in some sad, tragic way, it wanted to die. Why would evil want to die?

Lyselle struggled in that moment — to put on a brave face, to take advantage of the opening the vampiress was giving her — and instead began to doubt. It flashed across her features as her brows knitted gently before smoothing again.

“L-Lyselle…”

The name croaked out of her, and she instantly cleared her throat, surprised she had sounded like that. She should have been on complete edge, and yet she found herself relaxing. And then there it was again: the vampiress’ eyes. Why did they seem so… recognizable? As if she had dreamt of them a thousand times, even though she had never met this creature before tonight.

What was this strange familiarity?

In the back of her mind, she cursed herself for letting her guard down — even though it felt like she was utterly incapable of stopping it.

Bloodbound & Broken

The fact that the vampiress dodged didn’t surprise her much, though she silently marveled at the picture of grace as she watched her spin and even swoop down to cut the bottle. ‘Okay…’ she quickly told herself, pursing her lips together, her brows knitting in thought. The crackle of thunder in the distance did little to distract her from the winged creature, nor did it cause even the slightest flicker of worry on her features — Lyselle was more focused than she had ever been before. As she heard the words reverberate beneath the coming storm, her lips parted just enough to idly wet them, readjusting where her free hand rested — fingers brushing something else on the belt across her waist. ‘So she’s holding back, even,’ she thought silently, taking in a slow breath of the biting cold air.

She bit her tongue gently as she stared at the other woman, letting a couple more thunderclaps roll across the sky before finally replying,
“I only need to stay here all night…”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Would the vampiress be able to call her bluff? Besides the obvious — the silver dust being blown away by the storm — Lys couldn’t deny what she felt. On some level, there was a flicker of pride from almost hitting her opponent, but beneath that, deeper and older, words and images echoed in the back of her mind, replaying themselves like a montage.

‘Ha, have you been studying again, Lys? Those are advanced sigils — we haven’t even covered the basics!’
Moments when she would stay in the library long past midnight, soaking up knowledge, pulling book after book after book.
‘Oh, haven’t seen that in a while — that’s amazing.’
Drawing circles and symbols like it was a science experiment, like a prodigy who understood code without ever learning it, like math problems solving themselves in her head.
‘Whoa, almost got me! Damn, she’s quick…’
The spinning of her favorite blade from one finger to the next, like a coin roll.
‘This young lady has a promising future — she has the potential to be one of the best.’
The slow, crushing pressure of always outdoing herself, of proving she could live up to a promise she never stopped to question if she wanted to keep.

Her gaze refocused moments later as she snapped back to the present, watching this terrifyingly beautiful creature drift closer to the ground. Her right hand tightened around her blade; her free hand slipped another tool free with caution, like a cat waiting to spring.

‘She’s going to call my bluff,’ she realized just before Ren gave her reply. She wasn’t far from hallowed ground — the church was nearby — but could she distract her long enough to reach safety? Did she even want to? The smart thing to do was run — a hunter should never fight alone unless they must. If reaching the chapel was possible, then she had been taught that was the goal: survive and fight another day.

And yet… she never could shake off that pressure — to be the best, to not disappoint her mentors, to prove everyone wrong, and ultimately… be left alone.

She didn’t want to be alone.

Bloodbound & Broken

In those first moments her attention was on the powder, knowing that drawing the ward might save her life. But the sound of thunder echoing across the buildings startled her — causing her to jump slightly in the briefest pause. Her eyes shot upward and a quiet gasp escaped her trembling lips, her adrenaline spiking as she laid her gaze upon those beautiful and terrible wings unfurling with a grace that spoke of experience and control.

'Shit!' With haste she returned to her sigil, spilling a circle around herself as she heard and felt the wind shiver at Ren’s approach — the vampiress' circling giving the young woman just enough time to enclose herself and let out a huff. Finally she could look back up with some measure of safety, watching the vampire sweep around her one last time.

As Ren moved to hover in the air with the beat of ancient wings, Lyselle stared at her as if examining a puzzle for the first time. As her eyes skated across her enemy, she took in the haunting beauty of the leathered wings, the marble-like skin, the familiar raven hair, and finally those ancient, mystic orbs as their eyes locked. There was something there that made the young huntress freeze before she closed her eyes and shook it off — now noting that smile. Lyselle let out a small tsk at Ren beckoning her, twisting her grip on her sword defensively.
'Taunting me...' she thought as the click of her tongue sounded into the cold air, never letting her gaze wander from her opponent.

To someone watching, it would seem like Lys was frozen — perhaps afraid or not confident enough to fight — but Ren would see far more than most mortals could. Slight shifts in her stance, twitches of her wrist, tiny repositionings of her fingers, and a calculating gaze. Though it would be obvious — to Ren — that this huntress was no veteran, neither was she caught in fear or in reckless bravado. No, those dark brown eyes of hers were searching, scheming, deliberating what to do next. Lys quietly reminded herself of the vampire’s strength, that even if the creature appeared careless or arrogant, it could snap into action the moment she landed a hit — if she ever landed one.

That last thought sprung her free hand into motion, reaching to her side for another bottle — quick as she could — unclasping it and tossing it toward Ren like a throwing knife, full of holy water. In truth, Lyselle didn’t care if it hit or not, because that wasn’t the purpose. Instead, she wanted to see if she could hit... and if she couldn’t, would the vampire catch it or dodge? She needed to assess what she was truly dealing with, for her only references were vampires much younger than the one floating before her.