Stanifly

Ex Nihilo

CHERYL LUSBY

& PIPER

Dark. Cold. Empty.

Cheryl Lusby could hardly recognise this place that was meant to be home. How could she, when she'd spent nearly all her life away from it? The door opened silently, giving out only the smallest of creaks. She glanced at its hinges. Well-oiled. Her gaze moved up to the unlit torch by the doorway, then flicked towards the centre of the room. In the darkness, she could just about make out the hearth. She strode over to it, kneeling down. There wasn't much firewood left, but it wasn't like she was staying long.

'Fire.'

Piper got his head out from under his wings and spat. Instead of spittle, however, a tiny lick of dark red flame shot out towards the fireplace. Fire consumed dry wood, burning dark red. Despite the dark colour, it lit the room as well as a regular fire would. The room was a little more than dimly lit now. She stood up, looking around. The living room was a mess. Not in the way that someone hadn't bothered to maintain it; the haphazard way the furniture was placed and objects scattered indicated something else far more irritating.

Sancho and his dogs. They'd been here, messing with things that weren't theirs while she'd been at the funeral.

'Hungry,' sent Piper as she took the torch from the doorway. She didn't say anything until she lit it with some of the fire from the hearth.

They were both tired. Cheryl had left Ferlois the second she'd heard about Mum, riding straight to Sonarlis. Piper, who'd just flown back from Sonarlis, had taken to riding on her shoulder since then. Guilt crawled around the edges of her mind. His wellbeing had completely escaped her.

'Here.' She tossed a silver coin at him and he caught it with a deft paw. 'Get yourself something.'

A soft churr in response, a flap of wings, and he was gone. Now alone, Cheryl looked towards the deeper interiors of the house.

She sighed.

---

Piper could smell Cheryl's exhaustion. It was a strong scent; if they'd been in the wild, some animal would have come, thinking she was easy food. In a way, she was. But they were both slippery and Piper marvelled at how they had escaped death more than once with nothing but her wits.

He knew his species wasn't particularly intelligent. That was what all the humans said. Pipios - good for following orders and nothing else. Piper was content with that. At least he could help Cheryl.

The one person who'd showed him mercy in a place where there had been none.

Cool air soothed his wings. He was a streak of white against the black sky, hungry eyes darting everywhere as he soared over the village. Few humans were out; those who spotted him reeked of either fear or disgust. He watched them scuttle back into their stiff, blocky homes.

The lack of human activity also meant a lack of food - at least in the open. When Cheryl let him free like this, he could usually snatch up something from the market, leaving behind his payment for the humans to find after they calmed down from their outrage over the thievery. He'd been more than a little startled the first time it happened, but Cheryl had told him it was alright. He paid for what he took so it was still legal, whatever that meant. Humans and their funny clan rules. So complicated.

He could try going into one of the homes that offered food to humans who went in. Then again, it would be harder to fly out and they might blame Cheryl if he fought someone. Most things he did, they blamed on Cheryl. Sometimes, he felt like attacking humans who did that, but Cheryl usually didn't want him to, so he didn't.

His middle rumbled. He settled on the edge of a sloping roof, shaking his head vigorously.

'Mrr,' he grumbled, displeased. For a while, he was content to sit there. Wriggly silhouettes occasionally passed overhead. He stared up at them, watching them fly by. Another type of pygmy, wingless ones who could fly. So much mana - he could sense it even at this distance.

It was a little later before he noticed a vaguely familiar scent permeating the air. Further down the street, something glinted at him. He perked up.

Food!

He raised his wings, then hesitated. The last time he'd spoken with this stranger, the stranger had, as Cheryl would put it, 'lost his meat'. Clearly, the stranger was someone Piper should stray clear of.

That little gold trinket winked at him once more.

Piper took off, landing neatly on the sconce jutting by the home's entrance where the stranger was. He puffed out a small flame, lighting the torch in greeting.

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

K I M B E V E R I D G E

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Location | Sami's stolen RV
Interacting with | Sami @BrutalBx, Emi @NeoAC
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'If you say so,' said Kim, humour colouring her tone.

The conversation was cut short when Umbra arrived in a bundle of overexerted nerves, barely managing to get a sentence out before fainting. Considering her state a minute ago, Kim half-expected Emi to freak out or blow up into a rabid ball of concern. Instead, her mood skyrocketed back to her usual cheer and when Emi began looking around for something, presumably Umbra's soda, Kim simply pointed at the fridge. She watched, more than a little baffled, as Emi attempted to rouse Umbra.

Just as she was about to offer her water bottle to squirt Umbra back into consciousness, something more pressing came to mind. Namely, the sound of the RV's engine starting up. She squinted at Sami, who'd gotten into the driver's seat when she wasn't paying attention. Didn't he realise that Umbra was unconscious? Not to mention-

'Not to rain on your parade or anything-' She glanced around the RV, eyes skimming over the faces present. Then her gaze returned to the windscreen, staring into the outside. Which was moving. '-but I think we're short of one.' She looked down at the pair on the floor. 'Is she alright, Em? She didn't knock her head or anything on the way down, right?'

Ex Nihilo

CHERYL LUSBY

Strange music jarred Cheryl from her stupor and she took a step back. Her mind whirred fast in the next few seconds.

A set up. Of course Cheryl wasn't responsible for Mum's death - the hell would she obtain from killing off the one person she'd risked her life for all these years? Sancho had to be dumber than she'd thought, buying Elena's lies like that. Under all that false bravado, he hadn't changed a bit.

This only confirmed that this went further than Elena. The caretaker couldn't have cooked up something like this on her own. 'And', a part of her grudgingly admitted, 'she wouldn't have much reason to do something like this without outside influence.' Her few interactions with Elena years ago had reflected a capable young lady with a demeanour others might have called "sweet". Cheryl called it "sickening naivety" - but that was probably what Mum needed all those years. Someone who actually knew to care for her and love her the way she deserved.

Someone who could give her everything Cheryl Lusby couldn't.

At the stranger's shout, Cheryl gritted her teeth. Turning around, she flung a hand out towards him.

'Stop that-whatever it is you're doing, idiot! I had it under control!' she snapped. Without waiting for his response, she twisted back towards the door. It hung open, revealing the pitiful, scattered mess of the town's guards. Sancho was still gathering himself, dazed from his tumble down the tavern's steps. The guards, however, were still on their feet and as soon as Cheryl stepped through the door, they raised their spears. The unison of their movement and wariness of the action showed that they could be somewhat competent after all.

Too bad Cheryl was better.

In her walk to the door, she'd opened the clasp of her second belt pouch, closer than the one she'd gotten her money from. It had to be - its contents were far more important than some old coins. Now, she stood at the door, one hand tucked into that pouch.

Then she glowed. Wisps of pale turquoise rose above her skin. Green pupils flashed, almost as if electrified. The guards hesitated at the display, some gasping aloud, but to their credit, all of them stood their ground. She walked down the steps and Sancho, who'd just gotten to his knees, scuttled back on his ass.

'No-don't do this! Please!'

The guards stepped closer, then stilled when Cheryl raised a glowing hand.

'Come closer and and the life of your Chief Guard falls by your hands.'

They did not move again. Her gaze flicked down towards Sancho. His face was as pale as a scroll, almost ashen in her light.

'Give me three days.'

'Wh-what?'

'I'll prove that it wasn't me who killed Velva Heilman.' Detachment. It helped numb the cold emptiness of grief, grounded her from running from reality. 'In three days, find me in Rareckel and you'll have your proof. Do we have a deal?'

Sancho hesitated. Cheryl cocked her head. Then a bark of laughter escaped Sancho, hysteria colouring its edges.

'A deal? The moment you're out of my sight, we'll have a fugitive on our hands! You really expect me to trust you?!'

The corner of her lip curled upwards.

'Yes. Because if you don't...' Fingers alight with turquoise twitched. Sancho gasped as a gust of wind blew through the area.

'Since you're such a fan of rumours, I'm sure you know what I can do.'

The area was void of but a few people, commoners who had not the presence of mind to think of running away. Siphoning out all other expressions that had previously been aimed towards her, there was a collective tension that ran through every witness of the display:

Fear.

Cheryl relished in it.

Sancho nodded weakly. 'Three...three days.'

'Good.' In her pouch, she let go of the mana shard and the wisps returned into her skin, as if sucked in. The light dissipated. Piper started cleaning the underside of his wings, the scrape of his rough tongue against his feathers audible against her ear. 'Remember. Rareckel. And call your dogs off. I'm going home.'

With that, she stalked off. Now that the light show was gone, the disgust had returned. She could feel it emanating from every civilian she passed, nearly drowning out their fear. The whispers started up again.

Let them whisper. She knew the truth.

Ex Nihilo

CHERYL LUSBY

& PIPER

Cheryl jerked back at the outburst, her eyes wide. A low growl sounded from Piper. Throughout his tirade, Cheryl tensed, ready to react if he attacked. It was only when his glass shattered did she flinch, shielding her face. When she lowered her hand, the mead was still standing. By itself.

'What in the seventy pits of hell just happened?' She frowned. 'And why the hell does he keep mentioning beans? Weirdo.'

The stranger himself seemed confused, behind his fit of anger. When he finally spoke up, she scowled.

'The flame? I should be the one asking you that! Don't try to pin this on me, meathead.' Flaming mage! Learning magic he couldn't control and trying to shift the blame on her? As if to enunciate her point, his...butt...made an odd sound, almost like a tune. Shaking her head, she moved back. She was having none of this meat.

As Cheryl got off her seat, Piper weaved around her head, moving to her other shoulder. His ears were flat against his head and he snarled at the stranger. He switched back to the signal he shared with his mistress.

'Strange magic. Don't want to talk to him again,' he sent to Cheryl.

'Then don't,' snapped back Cheryl, keeping her eyes on the stranger. She was not dealing with this crap. The guy could go off blazing fire and breaking glass somewhere else. She had enough on her plate without having to handle tantrum-throwing wizards.

'Well, don't know about you, but I've got things to do, stranger.' She glanced around and couldn't help a whistle at the nearly empty tavern. The few that were left were studiously not looking at them and trying not to shake. 'Might wanna learn how to temper that magic o' yours. Ciao.' She turned to head for the door.

The door slammed open. Piper's wings flared open, brushing against her hair, and he snarled.

'Cheryl Lusby, you are wanted on account of murder.' Guard Sancho. Or rather, judging from his maroon uniform, Chief Guard now. Balding head, wrinkled forehead - the last decade had not been kind to him. 'Stay where you are. Do not move. And get that flaming lizard under control!' He levelled his sword at her. Behind him, just outside the tavern, Cheryl could see other guards waiting. Blue uniforms. Lower rank soldiers, but just as capable of fighting with the spears they held by their sides. They weren't waving those around just yet, but she could tell they were itching to.

'Hey Sancho.' She reached up, and Sancho took another step, sword still pointed towards her in warning. Rolling her eyes, she continued with the move, scratching Piper between his ears. His wings folded closed, but his snarl remained. 'Bit much for a welcome greeting, don't you think?'

'Lusby. Don't make this any harder than it has to be.' Sancho's voice was firm, unshakeable. So different from the quivering guard she remembered from back then.

'The only one making this hard is you, Sancho.' Sighing, she dropped her hand, inciting a slight flinch from the Chief Guard. 'Elena killed Mum. So I did you guys a favour, got rid of another murderer. Saved you the paperwork of having to write up another bounty too! You're welc-' She stopped, staring down at the sword at her throat.

'Elena told us what's been happening lately. We should've listened. I should've known better than to trust the Breath Stealer, of all people.' Disgust swam in the middle of the hate in his eyes. Cheryl narrowed her eyes. Something wasn't right.

'The flame you on about? Whatever Elena told you, it's not true.'

'This says otherwise.' He reached for something tucked in his belt and held it up. It glinted in the flickering firelight. A small corked bottle, containing a pink-tinted translucent liquid. 'Pinkshrub. Funny. What, did you think poisoning her was more merciful? Couldn't face strangling your own mother?'

Dread sat cold in the pit of Cheryl's stomach.

'What', she whispered, 'did you just say?'

Sancho lowered the bottle, stowing it away in his belt. He narrowed his eyes, practically spitting his next words.

'Cheryl Lusby. You're wanted for the murder of Elena Rushel and Velva Heilman.'

At the mention of her mother's name, Cheryl's throat closed.

'You will come with us. Your execution will take place tomorrow morning.'

Ex Nihilo

CHERYL LUSBY

The question he directed towards Piper was unexpected, to say the least. Judging by the twitch of feathers she felt against her neck, Piper was just as surprised as she was.

'What's it to you, human?' Ah. He'd opened up a shared telepath signal. How polite. Sometimes, she wondered if he'd ever conversed telepathically with other people without her knowledge. Probably did at some point, though she had no way of knowing unless she asked. Considering that he still hung around and hadn't stabbed her in the back yet, she never did. He was his own dragon just as she was her own person, and she could mind her own business.

She was certain now that Jack wasn't from around here. Most common folk wouldn't dare approach Piper, much less talk to him. She'd heard of dragon mages; foolish wizards who thought they were powerful enough to make contact with dragons and learn some of their magic. They were few and far in between, however. His strange attire aside, this man didn't look like a mage. Too scruffy. Too out of place. He didn't belong and they both knew it. Whether it was intentional or not, associating with her was just making him stick out more.

Giving a noncommittal hum to his comment, she downed the last few drops of her sour, waiting to see if he would acknowledge Piper's question. It'd be rude to talk over him, after all.

Ex Nihilo

CHERYL LUSBY

& PIPER

'Someone's staring at us.'

'Someone's always staring at us, Piper.' Cheryl gave the tail around her neck an idle flick. 'Do you mind? I was trying to have a moment.' Piper didn't respond. Used to his odd conversational habits, Cheryl went back to nursing her glass.

Getting drunk senseless seemed to be an appropriate response to the situation. Then again, she needed her mind clear for later. Elena had been responsible for Mum's death, yes, but her final words...

'They were going to kill me!'

She hadn't really listened to whatever babble Elena was spouting to save herself. Strangling was hard work, after all. It was only after she was cold on the ground did those words register and Cheryl admitted that maybe killing Elena right off the bat wasn't the best move. She wasn't even sure how Elena had killed Mum. Poison, probably. She'd looked like she was sleeping when Cheryl had barged into her room.

'He's coming over now. He seems...interested.'

Cheryl hummed, indulging. On her shoulder, Piper kept his gaze fixed onto the strange man with the shiny wrist thingy. He cocked his head when the man peered at him, then bared his canine teeth.

When the man settled next to Cheryl, she paid him no mind. Despite Piper's comment, she was neither concerned, nor interested. If the guy came looking for trouble, she was plenty capable of delivering a fresh knuckle sandwich. However, the glint of something shiny caught her attention. Not moving her head, her eyes darted to the side.

What was that? Something was strapped around his wrist. Gold, mostly, with a round black disc on top of his wrist tucked behind glass. What seemed like two little sticks moved around inside. A magical accessory? A charm? Not to mention his strange clothes. Of all the articles on his figure, his pants had to be what baffled Cheryl the most. Black, but of a material she had never seen.

When he started speaking to the bartender, her gaze flicked back to her drink. Almost lazily, she leaned her cheek against her knuckles - her middle ones. It was a thing of habit, borne out of accidentally leaning her face into blood-soaked steel knuckles far too many times. She watched the exchange between the stranger and the bartender. Unbothered by her blatant show of interest, her gaze lingered on the coin the stranger had placed onto the table. Silver, but it wasn't right. There were carvings on the thing. She watched the bartender walk away.

The interaction over, she took another swig of her drink.

A stranger from far-off lands, perhaps? Past the borders of Nihilo? Wherever he came from, he stuck out like a damn twisted thumb. He looked like he could be a mage. Weird mage attire. Weird artifact thing attached to his wrist. She wondered if it was actually magical.

'You alright there, ma'am?'

She turned, leaning on one elbow to face him. Piper was already staring at him, she noted with amusement.

'I've had better days, stranger.' She gestured over to the bartender, smirking. 'That was a little mean.'

Ex Nihilo

CHERYL LUSBY

Please hurry back home. Your mother's condition is worsening. I fear she may not make it.

Elena

What a load of dragon meat.

Chery's lips pulled back into a snarl. In two quick movements, she crumpled the letter and tossed it onto the street. She didn't pause as she strode down the cobblestone path. The townfolk milled around her, giving her a wide berth as she passed. She ignored them.

The afternoon had been an entire roll of cow dung thrown in her face. First, she'd had to bury her own mother. Then, she was forced to snap the caretaker's neck. Well, not forced per se, but she'd be lying if she said it hadn't felt good. And that it was perfectly justified. Seriously, admitting to murdering the person she'd just gotten in the ground in front of a renowned bounty hunter who happened to be the murdered's daughter? A phenomenally stupid move. It was so stupid Cheryl wasn't sure if Elena's brain had decided to take a walk during the burial or just given up entirely after her misdeed. Either way, she was certainly braindead now.

The splash of orange in the sky faded to a dull grey as the sun set. Night fell and the moons, having hidden behind the sun's glory all day, shone against a canvas of stars.

She dragged a calloused hand over her face. Everything was a mess. She was a mess. A very tired mess. She'd left her last job unfinished in her haste to get here and it hadn't mattered; Mum was already dead when she'd arrived. Probably had been for days. Bloody Elena. Cheryl's fingers itched to hit somebody.

A soft churr broke through her thoughts. Cheryl didn't glance down at the bundle of white feathers curled around her neck, but she sighed.

'I'm fine, Piper,' she said. 'Just...there's a lot on my mind right now.'

Not to mention the number of eyeballs pointed in their direction. She hadn't been in Sonarlis in what, eight years? Almost a decade. Maybe it was a decade. Time seemed to blur these days. To her, it was just one target after the other. Even so, it seemed news of her arrival had spread quickly. Everybody's body language practically screamed wariness and distrust, with maybe a little bit of fear included. Not to mention the disgust she could see in some of their eyes. She knew, without a doubt, that that last emotion was entirely reserved for the pipio pygmy on her shoulders.

Let them stare. As long as they didn't bother her, she couldn't care less what they thought.

'M-Miss Hunter?'

Of course, it would happen just as she thought that. The world seemed out to get her today. She looked down at the kid who'd stepped up to her. Her gaze flicked to the side, where a group of older boys were trying and failing to suppress their snickers. A dare, then. Her gaze returned to the kid.

When she didn't say anything, the kid continued, 'Is-is it true that you, um, y-you steal breaths from people?'

'Why, you wanna see it happen, kid?' Raising her arm, fingers splayed, she bared her teeth. 'Want me to show you?'

The kid was a stammering mess now, nothing but a melting, sweaty bunch of 'um's and 'uh's. She flicked her fingers and he flinched.

'Scram.'

He did. Piper gave a little snort of laughter.

'Shush, you. We've got more important things to handle than a snotty kid.' It was starting - the whispers of the common folk. Though she couldn't hear what they were saying, it was an easy guess. What a vile piece of work she was, scaring a child, using magic, owning a dragon, yadda yadda. All talk and no action since none of them would actually dare throw her out the village. That would be an amusing sight to see.

'Focus.' God, she was all over the place. It was official: she needed a drink before she could sort any of this out. She glanced around, then grinned at the sight of a squat little tavern. 'Blackgale Inn,' its wooden sight read, swinging back and forth in the slight wind.

'Perfect.'

Chatter and music drifted out from the doors and once she pushed past them, a familiar ranky smell greeted her. Her grin widened. It was this kind of bar that ended up being a funhouse by the time she left. Not today, however. She had a mission and an unfinished job. The sooner she got to the bottom of this, the sooner she could return to her target and lob his head off.

'Or suffocate him,' she thought with reluctance as she sat down at the bar. It had become a cool trademark of hers - Breath Stealer and all that jazz - but watching them squirm and then die without her even touching them had gotten old real fast. Snapping Elena's neck with her bare hands was a fresh breath of air. Cheryl's lips quirked at the irony of it.

'It's become quiet,' hummed Piper in her mind. So she'd noticed; it was hard not to when the din in the tavern practically vanished the second she had stepped in.

Without turning around, she raised her hand, waving nonchalantly to the gawking patrons.

'I know I'm nice to look at but there's nothing happening here. Why don't you all go back to whatever you were doing before?' At this point, Piper got up, clambering around her so that he sat on one shoulder, peering at the crowd behind her. The couple other patrons sitting at the bar shifted several inches away. Cheryl raised her eyes to the heavens as she felt the tension in the tavern spike. Nevertheless, she continued, putting her hand down. 'I'm sure it's more exciting than staring at my back.'

A couple beats of silence. Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, the chatter resumed, as did the music.

Piper shifted his paws on her shoulder, as if kneading her for a brief moment. 'So curious. There are so many of them, yet only one of me. Still they are afraid.'

'Don't take all the credit, pal. I'm scary, aren't I? Hey!' The last word was a bark aimed at the bartender. The old man stiffened in response, clutching the wash cloth in his hand like a lifeline.

'Whatever you want, it's on the house-' he started, but clammed up when Cheryl waved a dismissive hand at him.

'If you're trying to say that I'm so poor that I can't afford a drink, just stop.'

'That's not-'

'Exactly. So get me a sour-' She reached into one of her belt pouches, pulled out a silver coin, and slapped it on the countertop. '-and take the money. You're running a business, man. Act like it.' The old man nodded, wide-eyed. He took the money with trembling hands, then set about making her drink.

Cheryl leaned her elbows on the countertop, the hair on her right side falling forward as she dipped her head and closed her eyes.

Mum was dead.

She wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, she hadn't seen her in years. On the other...all those years away had been to help Mum.

No, that wasn't right. Their financial situation had stabilised years ago. The fear of Mum asking Cheryl how that had happened and finding out what her daughter had been up to all these years was what had kept Cheryl away after that.

'Well, now she'll never know. Good job, Cheryl.' She opened her eyes, frowning. 'Wait.'

The money. Their savings. For mana's sake, she'd come straight here after snapping Elena's neck and hadn't thought to check the crime scene itself. She slumped further on the counter, groaning. Piper readjusted his hold on her shoulder, wrapping a tail around the front of her neck.

'Sorry to, uh, interrupt, but your sour, Miss Hunter.' Her cheek pressed against the countertop, she watched the stained glass slide close to her face. The dark blue liquid fizzled, bubbles popping at the surface.

'Yeah, thanks. And Lusby's fine.'

Well, she'd come here to sort out her mind. She had a plan. Or at least, the next step of a developing plan. So, the way she saw it, it would be waste of energy to execute it right away. Better to drink and wait for the next next step of the plan to pop in her brain.

So she raised her head, took a deep swig of her sour, gasped for air, then slammed the glass down.

'Here's to you, Mum,' she murmured.

Ex Nihilo

Cheryl Lusby

tuff gurl

Image credit: Lesly Oh

Appearance | Standing at 1.6 metres, Cheryl's default expression is one of intense disinterest. Her auburn hair curls around her neck in a bobcut, with a side bang that has an irritating tendency to fall into her left eye. Nowadays, it's held back by two simple bobby pins. Steel-knuckled fingerless gloves adorn her hands and a utility belt tucked under her jacket holds her meagre possessions - a knife, money, and her mana shards. The front pockets on her utility jacket are where she keeps odds and ends. Heels? Nah. She's lovin' her steel-toed combat boots.
Age | 23
Gender | Female
Orientation | Heterosexual
Occupation | Bounty hunter

Personality

how she be

Practical. Either someone's of use to her or they're dead weight and she'll drop them. That's not a rule she abides by strictly, though. She's interested in the unusual and empathises with the weak. This leads her into trouble more often than not. Cheryl does have sense, however - if it's obvious that helping someone out will give her more than she can handle, she'll walk away.

She's quite short-tempered. When annoyed, she'll threaten to punch the offender in the teeth. When pissed off, she'll just punch them in the teeth. Talking with her fists is her favourite type of conversation.

Money is a good way to get Cheryl to do something. To her, life has become a cycle of one job after the other and it's a cycle she's grown comfortable with. To live is another day is to take someone's head off in exchange for money.

Traits

how she flex

Affinity | Air
Magic | Air manipulation. She needs mana for this and the only thing she can do with this ability is to steal the breath out of people, suffocating them. Mana is expensive so she usually reserves this for the killing blow with her targets.
Strengths
| Melee. She's good with her fists and better with a knife. Despite having never been formally trained, her time in the underground was spent watching other mobsters fight amongst themselves and she's been in enough fights that she can handle herself. Wily and slippery, her strength lies in her nimbleness, flexibility, and the swing of her knife.
| Reconnaissance | Her growing reputation as Breath Stealer made infiltrating underground operations a lot more difficult. A new tactic that she's been cultivating over the past couple years is to study her target's patterns and close in where they're most vulnerable.
| Lock-picking. She picked up the ability at some point or other and has found it extremely useful since. Uses her hairclip to do it. Heavy-duty locks and up are her limit though.
Failings
| Murderous. Her best go-to solution to a problem is to kill it dead.
| Arrogant. Her reputation as the Witch Hunter has more than stroked her ego. In the face of a challenge, she'll never back away and is always convinced that she's got the teeth to chew whatever she's bitten off. Once she's got the upper hand, she'll almost always grow complacent. This complacency has almost ended in her death in a few situations.
| Physical strength. This is not to say that she's not strong, but a hand-to-hand with someone bigger than her without a knife means that her best bet is to run away. Unfortunately, that's not a bet she's ever willing to take.
| Unrefined. Cheryl's definitely good at her job, but assassinating and fighting are two different things. While capable of handling herself in a fight, she has almost no chance with a trained or skilled fighter.

History

how she grow

Born in the dark, gritty parts of Sonarlis, Cheryl and her mum were left with an abundance of debt when Cheryl's father died before he could even lay his eyes on their firstborn. As it was, Cheryl's thoughts regarding her late father summed up to a simple, 'Good riddance.'

Cheryl spent most of her childhood on the streets, stealing what she could to put food on the table while her mother worked as a tavern waitress to pay off her husband's debts. Gambling buddies weren't quite so friendly once they were owed something. For a while, they walked on eggshells and Cheryl thought that things weren't so bad, considering her livelihood.

Then she stole from the boss of a crime syndicate.

He caught her, of course, but was impressed by her guts and quick fingers. For the payment of allowing her to leave with her hands intact and, after some bargaining on her part, 3% of the profits, he put her to use as a dragon stealer. The job was fairly simple - travel to dragon habitats and steal their eggs. Dragon trading on the black market's a profitable career and even with her meagre allowance, she eventually managed to pay off the family debt. Even then, life wouldn't give her a break it seemed. Her mother fell ill from the stress, both physically and emotionally (she never quite got over her husband's death). At this point, she was 12 and had been stealing dragon eggs for two years.

Taking initiative in her own hands, she took a risk. On another errand to steal a dragon egg - one of those pygmy types again - she let herself be discovered by the dragons. These pygmies, however, were living closely with Siyat dragons. An intelligent breed with long memories, they captured her, then pondered on how best to deal with the insolent human child. She made a deal - she'd let them know the leader behind the dragon trade and they'd help her kill him. In turn, their eggs would stop being stolen.

This was, of course, a lie. There were humans aplenty across the world that stole dragon eggs. Killing the crime boss would hardly change anything. However, as intelligent as the Siyat dragons were, this particular group did not dabble into human affairs. Unaware of the numerous other dragon traders who would continue stealing their eggs, they agreed to her deal. They sent her back with a spell that could steal a person's breath. So she managed to get her boss alone to herself and suffocated him to death. The use of magic scared everyone to death and that day, she ran from the hideout with the boss' head in her hand.

The bounty for the crime boss head proved enough to get her mum a caretaker and the medicine she needed. After threatening the office into making her a bounty hunter, she spent the next few years of her life travelling for bounties and struggling her way to the top. Life wasn't always easy and it certainly wasn't as smooth as people seemed to think it was - 'She became a bounty hunter at 12? Wow...' - but she survived. That was more than she could say for all her victims.

~~~

Piper

bundle of feathery scales

Appearance: About the size of a small cat. Though he's covered with feathers, hard dragon scales lie beneath. Try messing with him and Cheryl won't lift a finger - those teeth and claws aren't for show.
Species: Pipio pygymy dragon
Age: Three human years - that translates to a middle-aged dragon.
Gender: Male
Occupation: Messenger dragon. Requests strokes as payment.

Personality

how he floof

Though capable of telepathy, Piper's not a great conversationalist. He communicates his moods through the usual coos and chirps of a pipio pygmy and has a habit of stating everyday observations when he feels like it. It's only in times of great stress, imminent danger, or pestering boredom, will Piper make the effort to speak up.

He's usually agreeable to whatever Cheryl asks him to do, which consists of delivering messages or items most of the time. Quiet and obedient is how he is - just the way Cheryl likes it.

Traits

how he ror

Affinity | Air
Magic | Flight. Technically not magic, but it'd be a lie to say that there isn't air magic involved to enhance pipio pygmies' flight, considering their capability to survive in most places.
Strengths
| Melee. What sharp teeth and claws you have, Mr Piper.
| Obedience. He'll follow whatever Cheryl tells him to do to the letter.
Failings
| Lack of independence. Piper knows enough to survive on his own, but he won't quite know what to do with his life without someone there to tell him.
| smol boi. Sharp teeth and claws are great and all, but once someone bigger than him overpowers him, he's done for.

Entertain Me! [Status: Open]

👀

You seem like a bundle of fun.

_{also what if there were dragons in that risky dating plot}

REBOOT COMING SOON. INVITE ONLY.

K I M B E V E R I D G E

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Location | Misfits meeting place
Interacting with | Emi @NeoAC, Nate @spooner
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In retrospect, maybe Kim should be a little more concerned about the whole RV-stealing thing. Then again, if she got a little more concerned for every questionable decision her friends made, she probably wouldn't be sane enough for this road trip. Besides, what was Sami's dad going to do? Hunt them down? She doubted he was that crazy.

For a clunky-looking piece of junk, the RV wasn't too terrible inside. Manoeuvring past the passenger seat, the sofas, a kitchenette, a sulky Jules scribbling in the booth, and a fridge, she finally reached the bunk beds. She lugged her suitcase, her messenger bag set atop it, to the head of the bottom bunk. Taking a step back, she rested a hand on her hip, her other hand holding her frappe. Should she unpack? Or leave her stuff for now? She glanced over to the end of the RV. Tucked in a corner was the queen bed, a closet standing on its other side. Rust ate into the edges of the washer beside it. She hoped it still worked.

Nate came in then, and she stepped aside as he dumped his stuff on the top bunk. When he retreated to the kitchenette, settling on the small table there, she opted to turn her suitcase on its back and shove it under the bed. She could worry about it on the road.

As she hung her messenger bag at the foot of her bed, the sound of another person entering the RV turned her head and she smiled when she saw Emi. It disappeared as soon as Emi broke down and dashed into the toilet. Kim took a step forward, but Nate was already going after her. She hesitated, then turned away. There wasn't any point in crowding Emi in the midst of a breakdown. Instead, she busied herself with putting away her frappe and Umbra's orange soda into the - thankfully already cool - fridge. Something moved in the corner of her eye. She looked down.

Wedged in the small space between the kitchenette counter and the fridge, a lizard tail twitched back at her.

Then it hit her. The next few weeks, the rest of this road trip: this was how it was going to be. Just the seven of them, crammed into a single RV. Yes, they'd be seeing the sights and living the life, but they were essentially living together in a moving house. Spending this much time together would show sides of themselves that they kept tight to their hearts. Kim loved her friends, but she treasured the distance she'd retained the same - maybe even more. Talking, without saying anything at all, was easy.

'So I just have to keep doing it then.' Giving herself a mental shake, she pulled her gaze away from the lizard tail. She'd have to ask Sami if he had any pesticide later, though she doubted it. Nobody here minded lizards. Probably. It faintly occurred to her that maybe she should check for bed bugs.

The last bits of Nate's attempt at consoling Emi registered and Kim looked up as Emi emerged from the toilet. A small smile tugged on her lips. Taking the caramel mocha off the table, Kim walked over to the two, then handed it to Emi.

'Here,' she said, 'Though you'll probably need something stronger than that to listen to Nate's singing.'