Utrax

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

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Mariah Mainline

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"Life's a drag..."

[ 26 | 6ft 3in | Black Latinx | She/Her | 188lbs ]

[Bold]

A Drag Look

APPEARANCE

"Yes, it's the heart that matters, but that don't mean you can't slay!"

Hooo, wee she's a tall bitch-- those legs go on for days, weeks, months, but she's slim because she's underfed. Homelessness will do that to a Queen-- a queen who keeps her plain jane curly hair short, so that she can wear those beauty shop wigs easier. And she's always wearing some kind of makeup, even if it's part of that, 'naturally unnatural,' trend the IG models are on nowadays. None may behold the face without the beat for makeup is WARPAINT. Earrings? Simple warrior's charms of LUCK. When it's time for a look, she's all about the pastels and neons-- favoring a style reminiscent of a little girl's sugar high-hallucination, with all the bows, satin, beads, shiny stuff, sequins, glitter, and bright colors included.

Some would call her hair unkept but that's cause bedhead is IN, sis! Plus, just because the rent's a month late, don't mean her nails ain't done, brows ain't done, and skin ain't clear-- there's priorities here, people. She will admit that her facial hair grows in pretty quick so, her mustache will be there by the end of the day, ready to announce to the world she can't afford them hormone pills. Tragic really, but a flat chested Queen sure can afford them fake titties, when the time comes for the glow up.

Pre-glow involves just the saddest t-shirts dumped off at Goodwill, with them dad at the cookout jeans or shorts, complete with dirty sandals that look stolen from a gladiator. Always with the sandals! Maybe it's to show off the pedicure but, we all know it's just cause she spent all her money on good drag, a busted car, and more makeup than anyone could feasibly use in a lifetime. Oh, and tattoos, because of course she had to spend money on tattooing nonsense-- a candycane here, cheshire cat there, an octopus, Ronald McDonald... Nothing follows any kind of theme but she sure has those tattoos scattered about on her arms.

PSYCHOLOGY

"You either call me Mariah or don't call me at all, honey!"

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Paying that damn rent? Truth be told, she wants to buy a large house, and set up a safe space for LGBTQAI+ children who were in the same situation she was. To do that, she's got to amass a fortune, first.

WHAT THEY WANT OUT OF THE COVEN ⫻ Networking! She considers herself to be a freak among freaks, but in a good way, so she wants to find others like her. Maybe they know a guy who knows a guy, you know? Also if anyone possibly knows who are parents are, that'd be nice, but she doubts she'll ever figure that mystery out.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Nobody will ever love or understand you like your-damn-self! The good word of this philosophy needs to be spread, she believes.

SECRETS ⫻ Traveling down to Tampa involved a lot of train hopping, wandering through the woods, and sleeping on the ground. She saw a few too many things she shouldn't have-- a few of those things saw her back.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Very Pansexual but afraid of being heartbroken again.

FEARS ⫻ Heartbreak, never finding love again, and oh, being murdered for being herself. She doesn't want to live in fear so she lives as upfront as possible, but it's always in the back of her mind-- wondering if today will be the day.

REPUTATION ⫻ In the Florida Drag Community, she's known for being very caring-- the type that would give you the shirt off her back, as she has quite literally done this before. She's also known for being quite hot-headed and often goes 'claws out' before thinking-- her ability to own up to her vicious and snappy remarks, and apologize for them, has earned her some grudging respect.

FLAWS ⫻ Trust-issues and Impulsiveness-- a combination that has gotten her in trouble on more than one occasion. When she believes she's right, there's hardly anything that can convince her otherwise, and she will often act on her beliefs without thinking. And yes, while she can apologize for her hot-headed remarks, there's always a deeper part of her that feels justified. Mariah hates being wrong, having acted in error, and doesn't admit it either. And this is all coupled with a deep mistrust of literally everyone, everything, and reality itself sometimes. Trust no one, not even yourself, is the easiest way to surmise this issue. She doesn't even trust herself when she thinks she's right, which is a loop-de-loop of a complex, which causes her to act impulsively in order to avoid indecisiveness. She's... working on this?

BACKSTORY

"Nobody even wanted me-- so I had to want myself."

Well.
What does this world do with an orphan? One with no name, found wandering the streets at the age of two, naked and all alone, with no birth record, DNA match-- absolutely nothing connecting them to anyone? For weeks the local news ran the story of a baby found wandering down highway 64 in Virginia Beach, Virginia. After months of no leads, dead end investigations, and no one coming forward to claim the child, she was sent an Orphanage, of course. That was the first.

She was adopted at the age of four.
Sent back to an Orphanage.
Adopted at the age of eight.
Sent back to an Orphanage.

And her final adoption, at the age of eight, ended in runaway.
Around the age of eleven, Mariah began wearing makeup, her little sister's dresses, and of course her adopted family 'caught' her. They hated how she insisted on being called Mariah. They figured it was just something adopted kids do, right? Identity crisis would just be a phase, right? But they'd had enough.

They wanted a "normal" child.
They wanted a little boy.

So on the way back to the orphanage, to exchange this broken child for a new one, Mariah herself had enough. Nowadays she joked about how cars back then didn't have child locks, just for situations like this, and that if that car had? Well, she always laughs, she figures she'd be a bit more sane cause her head wouldn't have been banged around so much. Yes, Mariah jumped out of a moving vehicle, in daytime traffic on I-64, in order to avoid being sent to the Orphanage again, botched the landing, promptly jumped off the bridge, and into a new life-- sort of. This... triggered her Kindling-Event. What was most distressing about this event was meeting the "Abuelas" one moment then snapping back into reality just before hitting the water. They couldn't have let her pass up that cold watery slap in the face, huh?

Thus began her life "on the run". Homeless, young, possessing nothing, really helped her with learning how to survive-- mostly by stealing and begging. She left Virginia for North Carolina almost immediately. She resided in train stations, old buildings, the occasional diner, panhandled for money, dated some rich kid, and break-danced for extra cash.

At sixteen, train hopping led her to Florida where she decided to stay, especially since the winters weren't so cold. A local drag queen spotted her dancing her ass off on a boardwalk, took her in, and the rest is history-- sort of.

SKILLS & TALENTS

"I get my credentials from the streets, baby."

[Dancing] ⫻ Vogueing, pop-locking, break dancing, flamenco, rumba, mambo, and a healthy dose of Técnica. Mariah proved at a young age to be adept at dancing, as it came as naturally to her as breathing.

[Stealing] ⫻ She didn't want to shop-lift or steal from people on the street, but she had to eat, right? Mariah is especially good at pick-pocketing and lying as a result.

[Sewing] ⫻ Her Drag-Mom taught her to make her own clothes and that a hot glue gun is a bit too cheap.

[Spanish] ⫻ Her Drag-Mom was Cuban, insisted that Mariah was probably Cuban or Puero-Rican, "Or some latin shit," and insisted on teaching her Spanish. She has a rather Cuban accent when speaking Spanish, as a result, but no accent when speaking English.

ABSTRACTION

"Mis Abuelas showed me how but I had to learn the rest."

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Yellow-Orange "The Hater Blocker" -- Channeler: A weighted flamenco fan she's had since her Drag-Mom gifted it to her.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ "The Hater Blocker" is quite the ability to block, absorb, deflect, or outright reflect whatever abstraction or physical attack is used whenever this ability is active on an object. Since it is very much orange-based, it has to be cast upon an object in order to activate its effects. As it currently stands, Mariah's Channaler is quite saturated with the ability.

LIMITS ⫻ (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)

WEAKNESSES ⫻ (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)

OTHER

"Watch it turn out I'm just Italian or middle-eastern or whatever."

Mariah's Theme Song
"Left right left, swiping on tinder, what was love like? I can't remember!"
Regular Fight Song
"I turned nothing to something, my comeback on one hunnid!"
Boss Battle Song
"Who gon' check me, boo? Not you!"

Recollections: The Coven (Off-Urban-Fantasy/Wannabe-Witches) [RECRUITMENT DRIVE]

Brain smoother than cueball, me, is interested.
Gonna do so much reading.

Council of the Night

@Polyphemus
Itimpu's gonna go bless those rains down in Africa if he can get a lead.
Almighty GM-- was there anything Lead-Like he may have sniffed?

Council of the Night

@BenG85Gotta channel that urge to cuddle the mountain lion while acknowledging it will still claw your face off in every post! Hahah!

Council of the Night

Meanwhile, cat things.

Council of the Night

The courier found him alright-- just like the others had.
Deep in the jungles surrounding Mount Sicapoo, the courier placed a package atop a mossy, ruined, and forgotten stone pillar in the thick of the underbrush. Truly, this had been something of a suicide mission and, just as the courier counted their blessings for having 'made it out alive', they were promptly pounced upon and turned into ash.

Which was no fun.
Why had he been sending the newbies so often lately?
This would have been the question running through the intelligent half-man mind of the 'Killer Panther' had he, well, had more intelligence and patience to give to the thought.

As it stood, Itimpu looked at his ash covered man-paws, then promptly hustled around in a frantic circle-- confused as to why the Human in his Territory had just exploded into Nasty Dirt. He hated that. Why was it that sometimes they exploded into Nasty Dirt but other times they-- the package caught his eye and was batted off of the pillar. As it had been designed to do, the box withstood a few more seconds of his Batting it around the jungle floor, before he finally understood it had Latches. And the smell-- oh the smell was familiar.

Yes, it was of the Pale King Dressed In Black, this scent, which meant box must become open.
Slowly and rather delicately, he pried open the box with is claws, before revealing the contents inside.
First, there was some paper-- boring, dis-interesting, who cares? Itimpu gingerly placed it aside.
There-- ah, here it was. A shark's lower jaw, teeth still attached, wrapped in the skin of a Human, with the black chain of Itimpu's former shackles-- this was a signal between he and the Pale-Black King. Itimpu lifted the object in to the moonlight, holding it toward the sky, before he placed it over his head.

---

Likely, he was one of the first to be summoned, simply due to the distance, but certainly not the last to arrive.

When eventually he arrived near the Pale-Black King's manor, he paused, catching a rather... odd scent on the wind-- A baby? Why was there a baby here? Sniffing and snuffling, Itimpu navigated the woods at night, his senses locked upon the scent of a misguided youngling-- how was a baby lost up here?

Every instinct prohibited him from continuing up the path until he found it-- a small boy, wandering up the path toward Dracula's manor. Why, only certain people knew where this place was, and where to go. Surely, this small child was summoned in some manner-- was he the child of Dracula? Could Dracula make babies? It didn't matter.

From the shadows Itimpu lept, landing next to Gael silently. He snuffled a greeting before promptly picking the child up, by the collar of his shirt, with his cat mouth, and beginning his rapid sprint up the path to Dracula's Manor. Quite easily, he ascended the path, then the side of the house-- ensuring that the small boy didn't bump up against anything-- before he climbed through an open window. He dangled Gael over the windowsill and into the room before releasing him.

Immediately, Itimpu was confused. Where was the Pale-Black King? Why were there so many others here that weren't him? Who invited the Sea Beast? Itimpu glared but remained silent as he slinked into the room, smelling about with soft whiffs, as the others began talking. Whatever they were speaking about, it didn't matter, because Dracula was not here.

If he was not here then, obviously, he must be somewhere else, which meant that Itimpu needed to go to him. He sniffed at the letter to South Africa, even going so far as to leave his mouth open, to process more of the scent bouquet. Itimpu began to sniff other objects around the room afterward, his paws moving to slowly, ever so slowly, push things here and there onto the floor.

There was a trail here, he needed but only find it, and no ink-well-- or weird ornamental cup-- was going to hide said trail underneath it on his watch.
^{edit: added a link}

Council of the Night

@EchoicChamber Oh, absolutely! And yes, he did.
Itimpu was gonna end up sprinting through the woods to get to the castle anyway so, he finds a child along the way.
A large panther man picks up this kid and climbs into Dracula's window cause, you know, why would a cat use the front door?
Operation Lion King is a GO.

Council of the Night

@EchoicChamber
"Itimpu, no! Put the antichrist down! Bad! Spit it out!"

Council of the Night

@EchoicChamberOr worse...
With the child in his cat mouth Held by the nape of his neck.

Council of the Night

@EchoicChamber
Large Catte Man could be convinced.
"HELP YOUNGLING STRUGGLING."