[Ravendarus]

She wants to go home, but nobody's home. It's where she lies, broken inside.

B A S I C S


Ravendarus


Sherry


Female

D E E P E R


SHER-ee


English


Before the 20th century this was probably from the Irish surname Ó Searraigh meaning "descendent of Searrach" (a name meaning "foal" in Gaelic). Later it may have been reinforced by the French word chérie meaning "darling", or the English word sherry, a type of fortified wine named from the Spanish town of Jerez. This name came into popular use during the 1920s, inspired by other similar-sounding names and by Collette's novels 'Chéri' (1920, English translation 1929) and 'The Last of Chéri' (1926, English translation 1932), in which it is a masculine name.


Sher, Cry Baby, Freak, Scary Sherry


February 29th


Pieces

Open your eyes and look outside, find the reasons why.
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you left behind.

By herself Sherry can be sad, lonely and depressed, when she becomes like this she tends to stay away from almost everyone and doesn't talk much to others. Sherry hates being touched and flinches violently from it. She will not hesitate to attack if she feels threatened, but half the time she is to scared to attack but when she does watch out. Sherry doesn't like the leave the safety of her shyness but deep down she is looking for a way to escape. Sherry often feels like she is being watched which is the main source of her anxiety. Sherry is often crying when she is alone, she enjoys the comfort of others in small groups. Sherry is a depressed shy girl who really needs a friend. Sherry before her select group of friends; Sherry pretends to be somewhat happier then she actually is, she will laugh a bit, and she will smile faintly. She lies and hates that she is lying, she refuses to let them know how she really feels. Though she likes her friends; deep down she is really jealous of them all in one way or another, for different reasons as well.


Nobody's Home - Avril Lavigne



Favorite Animal: Wolf
Favorite Arts: Writing
Favorite Band: Nightwish
Favorite Book: Token Of Darkness
Favorite Color: Onyx
Favorite Drink: Water
Favorite Excuse: "I have stuff to do"
Favorite Food: Chocolate
Favorite Flavor: Sweet
Favorite Movie: Nightmare Before Christmas
Favorite Musical Genre: Symphonic Metal
Favorite Mythical Creature: Unicorn
Favorite Number: 8
Favorite Pastime: Doesn't have one
Favorite Place: The Forest
Favorite Quote: Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings - always darker, emptier and simpler. - Friedrich Nietzsche
Favorite Restaurant: A&W
Favorite Season: Winter
Favorite Song: Centuries - Fall Out Boys
Favorite Store: Chapters
Favorite Story Genre: Fantasy
Favorite Subject: English
Favorite TV Show: Criminal Minds
Favorite Words: Don't Cry

Least Favorite Animal: Lobster
Least Favorite Arts: Crafts
Least Favorite Band: Back Street Boys
Least Favorite Book: Twilight
Least Favorite Color: Pink
Least Favorite Drink: Mountain Dew
Least Favorite Excuse: "I had to help an old lady cross the road."
Least Favorite Food: Peppers
Least Favorite Flavour: Spicy
Least Favorite Movie: Twilight
Least Favorite Musical Genre: Rap
Least Favorite Mythical Creature: The Bogeyman
Least Favorite Number: 7
Least Favorite Pastime: Not having one
Least Favorite Place: The Beach
Least Favorite Quote: Life is good
Least Favorite Restaurant: Quizno's
Least Favorite Season: Spring
Least Favorite Song: Anything Rap
Least Favorite Store: Wal-mart
Least Favorite Story Genre: Non-fiction
Least Favorite Subject: Science
Least Favorite TV Show: Most shows
Least Favorite Words: I hate you

Abandoned at a young age, hated by her parents because of how different she was, she could not feel pain, even when she was cut, she would bleed, and her blood was blue. It glowed in the night just like her eyes. Her parents saw her only as a freak. So they left her, they took her to the park to play and when she looked for them to go home… they were gone and never came back. She cried that day because she lost her parents, and often wonders why they left her there.

"Help!" She screamed as she ran away from a Kiamara, the guy snarled, "give me back that apple you brat!" he shouted at her, "No!" She yelped and soon lost him as she slipped into the alley. Sighing with relief after he ran by. This was her life now, stealing in order to live, stealing to survive. Eventually it became easier for her, she got away more swiftly; after having her fill of food and money she would sit down on a rooftop and watch the other Kiamara's go about their day. She felt a bit jealous watching the other kids go to school and wished she could attend as well… she let to tears fall then to.

Sherry had a hard life growing up, but… eventually she made a friend, her name is Ravenna, and they had similar problems. It was the first time she had actually ever made a friend, it made her smile a bit. Soon Ravenna introduced her other friends, and it was like she was apart of them. At the same time though, she was shy and felt like she didn't belong when they started talking about their parents and if they'd like to hangout at someone's house. She often lied and told them she lived out of the town and her parents wouldn't like having guests over. She did her best to cover herself up so they wouldn't think she was a freak.

Then it was to late. She had accidentally cut herself one day on a stick when they were playing at the park, it didn't hurt her at all, but the blood, and the wound was deep, her friends were worried for her, she cried and said to stay away. They got closer and she panicked running away from them. She had ruined her friendship and she knew it, they would think she was a freak now. However they did not, in fact they were worried for her. They followed after her and eventually found her crying and upset, hurting herself again.

They brought her to the hospital where they bandaged her up and treated her till she was better. They gave her some medicine to help with her depression. It started to work, and Sherry finally opened up to her friends, starting to smile and laugh for real even if only a bit. For the first time in her life she was enrolled into school and started to learn, she was accepted, and there was someone in the world who cared for her.

So why was she still depressed? Because it didn't feel real. It didn't feel right.

"I have everything I could ever want, ever need… so why is it not enough? All I really want to do is go home, but I don't know where that is, and even in my house, when I walk through the door, no one says hello, no one says how are you? Because no one is Home I am always alone in the end..."

Her feelings she hides. Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind. She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place. She's losing her faith.
She's fallen from grace. She's all over the place.

Accent/Dialect: Russian
Impediments: None
Laughter: Very quiet and usually not more then a heh.
Pitch: Her pitch is a bit lower but only because of how quiet she speaks. Usually Higher when she is crying.
Range: Contralto
Volume: On a scale of one to ten she would be about a 4.
Example: Here

Earliest Memory: The earliest memory Sherry has is that of her parents faces.
Fondest Memory: The day someone told her, it was okay to cry.
Worst Memory: Being Abandoned.

She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah
She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah

by ♠Trollish♠

------------Ravenna ~

Ravenna and I are… Friends I believe, we have similar problems and suffer from sorrows greater then anyone could know… we don't know why but we do and I for one hate it. I hate feeling so weak and depressed all the time, but I am. I suppose Ravenna makes me feel a bit better at least. I don't know if we are truly friends, but I run into her often and we have gone to the park together a few times, so I wonder sometimes, I've never officially confirmed it. Perhaps I am being selfish calling her my friend, what if she doesn't think of me that way. I feel foolish wondering, and not being brave enough to ask.

------------Lyde ~

Lyde is a grump, he's not overly nice to me, though he seems okay I suppose, I think it's because he doesn't remember much about himself and gets frustrated. I know how he feels, I get upset when I don't understand things either… perhaps it's normal to feel like that after something just gets to you. I think we are friends maybe because we understand each other like that. He might not remember who he is, but he always talks of his mate Chip… I am jealous of them, I want to be loved, but I am not loved. Is that wrong of me?

------------Fry ~

Ever hear the saying kill them with kindness? I think Fry is after me… he's always so nice and has no reason to… he must be faking, or lying, or something; no one is naturally that nice. I do not consider him a friend merely because he scares me, he literally frightens me, I don't know why, but I think it's because he is so happy. Perhaps I am jealous of him, being able to be so happy. I wonder why he is always so happy, is it possible to just be happy without reason? Or is Fry just crazy?

------------Rin ~

Rin, I am not sure what to think of, he's very odd. I suppose it is because he treats me nicely, he gives me compliments I do not deserve and I do not know why. Though I suppose I also admire him a bit, he's very vain, and vanity is one trait I do not possess, I have no self-esteem unlike he who over glorifies himself. He's also very lazy at times I noticed. I don't know what he does for a living, but I am certain it is not just flirting with girls like I see him do, I think he is a jerk for doing that, if you like a girl you should stick with one not flirt with many… I suppose that is how I feel and maybe it will come back at him one day. I am not worried about him, I really couldn't care less if he disappeared and I didn't see him again. Though, I feel wrong for thinking like that, because I know… it is not nice.

------------Hunter ~

Hunter is cute, I like him, because he doesn't speak, but not just because he doesn't speak. But because he is a child. To me he seems pure, unaffected by the world around him, untouched by the evils. He does not think I am freak, but then again I wouldn't know if he does or does not. He doesn't speak, but the look in his eyes is enough for me to accept it and believe it. Perhaps when he is older my view of him will change drastically, but for now, he is simply a child, with a very artist point of view. Which I admire a lot. I have heard of his mother, and family though I have yet to meet them, I would like to I think. Maybe one day I will, though I am not sure what I will think of them. I have only seen his drawings, they are very good, better then what I can draw at least.

[LTwoof]

Tʜɪs'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ...

Yes, yes, our secret. So dark, sweet like sugar, oh how delectable. You thirst for it, but a secret given is one that's broken. It's not deception, just the brutality of reality rearing it's ugly and crooked teeth. The pull, the push, the forth and back, does it matter? The unknown, your fear, your desire, oh such greed to know. All in good time, all in good time.

She is what you lust for, the liquid to your parched lips, what you fear, the blade to your heart. An unknown. She does not speak your language, she does not live in a home like yours, her blood is blue, a raw being left unformed by the hands of society. Desolation is her name, whom she was given it by no one knows, but it is hers.

Happy, innocent, and curious. A very kind heart, but not the smartest of things. She doesn't understand others, literally. The only thing she can read by is body language. Very loving of anything warm and soft, be it a blanket, a sweater, a pillow, or another kiamara. Doesn't learn fast at all and rather oblivious, but very forgiving. Mainly because she doesn't feel pain. Any pain. Cut her open and she will not wince, bruise her soft skin and she will not yelp, but more then that. She does not feel emotional pain either, perhaps because she does not know enough to be able to.

Don't get me wrong, she has a wide variety of emotions, she can be sad. But it doesn't hurt. Nothing has come so close to her heart that it may break it. She would be sad to lose a blanket, sad to have someone walk away. Yet, the gut wrenching pain of depression, sorrow, and fury, has yet to touch her innocent heart.

Now, Des is not completely unscathed by our Mother Nature, after all, she is still alive and anything living has at least a speck of darkness to them. She has her... moments, or at least that's what they started to be called. They're rare and what triggers them has yet to be figured out. In a matter of seconds she can go from her chipper self into a reclusive pile of fur, pushing anything and everything away. If they don't heed her warnings she can quickly become hostile. These moments can last from a fem minutes to days, the longest almost lasting the span of a week. She never remembers them, or at the least, seems not to. Almost as if she hides from them.

Overall, Desolation is a happy kiamara who enjoys life even though she doesn't understand anyone around her, loves to find new things, snuggle anything warm, and feels no pain that is known. She has small 'moments' but recovers back to her normal self swiftly. Her blood is blue but her heart is golden with nothing but good intention.


Just a fun little comic to work up muse. Features Des and Renegade.

extra art

Peaceful shadows

Be happy

Lil bit chubby

Chillin' like a villain

Nom nom

Personality doodles

On the run

[MintCat]

name;;
Hotaru Ran
(Firefly orchid)
"Ran"

gender;;
Agender.
No pronoun preference, but generally referred to as they/them.

history;;
Born not knowing their father and was later abandoned by their mother, it's safe to say that Ran's childhood wasn't the easiest. They grew up on the streets, learning to fight and scavenge and survive from dumpsters and the pity of occasional kind-hearted strangers. Despite all that was pitted against them, Ran thrived in the dirty alleyways and, by the time they were 8, had formed a small gang of rag-tag street kids. Not able to feel pain was a great advantage during fights, and Ran was merciless with keeping the order in their little group.

At the age of 12, they were taken in by the leader of a feared crime group after they heard of Ran's gang and their fighting capability. Though, unknowing to them, Ran's father was actually one of the higher-up members of the group. After living this long in the cold, damp alleyways and with little food, being taken in and sitting in the black leather interior of the warm car was like heaven to Ran. He felt infinitely indebted to the leader, and this was the perfect opportunity for the group to mould him to their desires.

For the first few months, Ran was showered with love and affection, living the life they had always wanted deep inside. However, the leader of the group had slowly become more and more distant, and, when they were in the middle of desperately trying to get the attention of the boss again, someone casually suggested an idea. That was when the training started.

Ran's knowledge of how to fight grew over time, from simple tips to dirty tricks that would leave someone's arm broken. They were taught not to have any mercy, and the mask that they put up as a child in the alleyways soon surfaced. When they found out about Ran's ability to not feel hurt by simple cuts and bruises, the training grew more brutal and eventually led to them being brought along on what the boss referred to 'business trips'. They were often told to help make people who owe the group money pay their dues, tagging along at first before being sent on solo trips. Though Ran didn't exactly approve of this, they were desperate for praise and acknowledgement from the boss, and helping the group was the one sure-fire way of getting what they wanted.

personality;;
More than anything in their life, Ran is constantly in need of acknowledgement and praise.
Though they were briefly a head of a gang in their childhood, they never felt like they were needed by anyone.
Though they've never experienced the love of a parent for their child, Ran believes that the crime group that they're currently in wants them,
and provides them with the attention that they crave.

Ran will also get very clingy if they come across anyone that accepts them for who they are,
as they can't handle being alone for too long of a time.
They are rather childish at times due to the fact that they never had a proper childhood,
and can get surprised by the strangest of things.

quirks/habits/hobbies;;

follows people around-
Ran has a habit of silently following people around and standing behind them a lot, a bit like a lost puppy. They aren't trying to startle anyone; it's just mainly due to the fact that they have become so dependent on others that they feel a bit lost if they're not near anyone.

bites fingers-
Whenever Ran is nervous or even when they just have nothing to do, they tend to bite and gnaw on their hands and fingers. It had started out as little nibbles and just ripping away loose skin, but soon developed into full-sized chomps. Ran isn't bothered much by the bleeding, though his companions seem to think otherwise.

mixed martial arts-
Though they have learned a variety of fighting styles, Ran likes MMA fighting the most. It involves both striking and grappling, and is actually fairly similar to how they fought in the streets as a child so they felt the most comfortable with this fighting style. Ran shows no mercy when fighting, and won't stop until the opponent is on their knees.

double-jointed-
Possessing joints that are able to stretch farther than normal is both a bad and good thing when it comes to Ran. While they're able to easily get out of MMA submissions by stretching their way out, it also provides something else to scare the people around them with. Ran, along with gnawing on this fingers, is often seen twisting his limbs and fingers into strange positions.

[Flowerdust]

XXXXXXXX


- - - - - - • • • • • • - - - -

╭-----------------------------------------------------------╮
XXusername // Flowerdust, current owner of 4 kias.
XXname // Circe ; SUR-see ; Greek name meaning 'bird'.
XXShe is named after the Greek goddess of magic.
XXgender // female ♀
XXtheme song // yellow flicker beat ; lorde
╰-----------------------------------------------------------╯

XXX

You slowly make your way through the dense and well rather creepy forest. You had heard of a fortune teller who lived out here who was supposed to be the real deal. "// HHH She must be crazy thinking it's a good idea to set up a business like this in the middle of freaking no where. . .//" Her name is Circe and according to the ad you seen in the newspaper she does everything from love potions to palm readings.

• Is very paranoid.
• Loves flower crowns, specially ones with lilies.
• Likes to use her blood and pain tolerance in her fortune telling.
• Very dramatic and loves to put on a show for her guests.
• Doesn't actually have the power to tell the future but for those
with the right connections she offers real potions and other services.
• Fluent in Latin.
• Loves cats and is known to take in strays.
• Collects shiny objects, particularity silver jewelery.
• Loves nature and lives in a little cottage in the woods.
• Has acute hearing due to her larger ears.
• She also has almost constant migraines and her ears bleed because
of that.
• In her back yard she has a large flower and herb garden.
• Loves to sing, even if she isn't the best.

You continued down the path, a thick fog sett in and your heart beat got faster and faster by the second. "//GOD THIS FORTUNE TELLER BETTER BE CLOSE OR I`M TURNING AROUND!//" Just as this thought crossed your mind you spot a modest little cottage with a sign that read "Madame Circe : Expert Fortune Teller & Potions Extraordinaire". The sign and cottage looked like they had seen better days but never the less still nice looking. Tentatively you make your way towards the cottage, hesitating as you looked the place over again. You weren't sure this was a good idea now you were here, but then again you had walked all the way out here and well honestly how bad could it be inside? Taking a deep breath you knock on the wooden door. You stand in awkward silence, waiting for someone to answer the door. Sighing you assumed no one was home and turned to start the long journey back to your car. It was at this moment the door swung open, purple tinted smoke spilling out and in the distance a petite woman sat. "Ah welcome child. I see you wish to see into your future or maybe you need one of my potions? Either way come in and shut the door behind you!"

|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|

••• // by me (Flowerdust).
••• // by me (Flowerdust).
••• // by ElementStar.
••• // by me (Flowerdust).
••• // by me (Flowerdust).
••• // by me (Flowerdust).

-------------------------------------------------------------

XXXXXXX

XXXX

Hey there pandora! I just wanted to take this spot to say good luck
in judging and quickly explaining why I chose to keep my form shorter.
I figured a short, nicely written form would be easier on you while judging
since everyone seems to be going all out on the writing section. I also
wanted to zone in on art considering that I`m not exactly the best at writing.
Anyways I`m going to stop rambling and let you continue on with judging.

[DerbyGirl]

☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡

Nαмє;; Hello there, my name is Tossico.
Tossico means "toxic" in Italian.
Agє;; I am 19 years old.
Gєη∂єя;;I tend to prefer male pronouns.
Sєχυαℓιту;;I am bisexual, what matters to me is the love
and affection one can give...not their body differences.
Occupation;; Radiation unit in a lab.

Tσχιc Lσνє- Tιм Cυяяу, Fєяηgυℓℓу
Mмм, ѕℓυ∂gє
Mмм, ƒιℓтн
Aαн, ƒυмєѕ
Oσσн, cαcк

Oιℓ αη∂ gяιмє, ρσιѕση ѕℓυ∂gє
Dιєѕєℓ cℓσυ∂ѕ αη∂ ησχισυѕ мυcк
Sℓιмє вєηєαтн мє, ѕℓιмє υρ αвσνє
Oσн, уσυ'ℓℓ ℓσνє му (αн-αн-αн) тσχιc ℓσνє
Tσχιc ℓσνє

I ѕєє тнє ωσяℓ∂ αη∂ αℓℓ тнє cяєαтυяєѕ ιη ιт
I ѕυcк 'єм ∂яу αη∂ ѕριт 'єм συт ℓιкє ѕριηαcн
I ƒєєℓ тнє ρσωєя, ιт'ѕ gяσωιηg ву тнє мιηυтє
Aη∂ ρяєтту ѕσση уσυ'яє gσηηα ѕєє мє ωαℓℓσω ιη ιт

I ƒєєℓ gσσ∂, α ѕρєcιαℓ кιη∂ σƒ нσяηу
Fℓσωєяѕ αη∂ тяєєѕ ∂єρяєѕѕ αη∂ ƒяαηкℓу вσяє мє
I тнιηк I'ℓℓ ѕρєω тнєм αℓℓ ωιтн cуαηι∂є ѕαℓινα
Pσυя мє α ρυкє cσcктαιℓ αη∂ тαкє мє тσ тнє ∂яινєя

Fιℓтну вяσωη αcι∂ яαιη
Pσυяιηg ∂σωη ℓιкє єgg cнσω мєιη
Aℓℓ тнαт'ѕ ƒσυℓ, αℓℓ тнαт'ѕ ѕтαιηє∂
Bяєє∂ιηg ιη му тσχιc вяαιη

Aη∂ αƒтєя ∂ιηηєя I cσυℓ∂ gσ ƒσя ѕσмєтнιηg ѕωєєт
Rєνєηgє ƒσя αℓℓ тнσѕє уєαяѕ ℓσcкє∂ ιη α тяєє!
I'ℓℓ cяυѕн αη∂ gяιη∂ αℓℓ cяєαтυяєѕ gяєαт αη∂ ѕмαℓℓ
Aη∂ ρυт υρ ραякιηg ℓσтѕ αη∂ ѕнιηу ѕнσρριηg мαℓℓѕ

'Cαυѕє gяєє∂у нυмαη вєιηgѕ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ℓєη∂ α нαη∂
Wιтн тнє ∂єѕтяυcтιση σƒ тнιѕ ωσятнℓєѕѕ נυηgℓє ℓαη∂
Aη∂ ωнαт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мαcнιηє тнєу нανє ρяσνι∂є∂
Tσ ѕℓιcє α ραтн σƒ ∂σσм ωιтн му ƒσυℓ вяєαтн тσ gυι∂є ιт

Hιт мє σηє тιмє
Hιт мє тωιcє
Aн, αн, αн
Tнαт'ѕ яαтнєя ηιcє

Oιℓ αη∂ gяιмє, ρσιѕση ѕℓυ∂gє
Dιєѕєℓ cℓσυ∂ѕ αη∂ ησχισυѕ мυcк
Sℓιмє вєηєαтн мє, ѕℓιмє υρ αвσνє
Oσн, уσυ'ℓℓ ℓσνє му (αн-αн-αн) тσχιc ℓσνє

☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡

☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡

☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡

Pєяѕσηαℓιту;; I am a very quiet, shy kia-not necessarily my personality, but this is because
due to my body I tend to hurt those who are exposed too long to me. I'd much rather keep to myself
rather than potentially harm a loved one. That doesn't mean I can't have friendships-
I find the Internet to be quite a useful source for communicating with other kias
around the globe.I just tend to be a bit quiet even on that...I just feel like even though we
are miles apart, I may *somehow* hurt someone. Just a mental querk I suppose.

I am dedicated; I enjoy doing the work I do and keeping up with the
friendships I do maintain. What I do may have affected me and potentially have ruined
my life, but even that can't stop me from doing what I do best.

I tend to be technical and experimental. As a science geek, sometimes
I catch myself speaking in terms far above other kia's heads. Unintentionally; I can't help that I'm bright. If asked I will
try to explain things or do something in easier to understand terms. I love trying new things, experimenting with
new discoveries and formulas...all in hopes of curing
myself. It has yet to happen yet but I will never give up.

Lιкєѕ;;
-Spending time on the computer
-Jazz music
-Nachos with jalapenos
-Keeping occupied
-Scientific magazines

Dislikes;;
-Spending too much time around other kias
-Arguing
-Quiet moments
-Caffeinated drinks such as coffee or soda
-The outdoors

☢
☣
⚡
☢
☣
⚡
☢



☣
⚡
☢
☣
⚡
☢
☣
⚡
☢
☣
⚡
☢
☣
⚡
☢
☣
⚡

☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡☢☣⚡

I was a normal and intelligent kia when I was young. Outside playing? That was not for me...my nose could be often found in a book, learning about science. Class valedictorian in high school, top GPA-even graduated early. My parents were quite proud of me, and although they were not the richest of kias they scraped together what they could to send me to a very nice college. The first semester there was quite nice, but the realities of living a dorm life at such a young age had its problems. I needed a job, but who could hire such a young kia for the skill set I had? I wanted more than just a McDonald's job, something that would help me learn and would look good on a resume.

After several weeks of interviews, rejections, combing the classifieds, and all that jazz-I finally landed a job at a local science lab. It was a janitor's job, but it was something. My young mind hoped I could perhaps move up as I got older and had more experience. Janitor work was quite boring, but the things I got to see-my oh my such fantastic things. My inner science nerd loved strolling through the rooms, admiring the projects of the scientists. I dreamed of how different the world could be if their studies succeeded. If one of the scientists happened to be in the room when I was cleaning, I'd ask questions-if they didn't mind. Some felt the janitors were too low life to speak to. But there was one kia who seemed to take a liking to me, and would excitedly accept my input and answer my questions.

6 months later, I applied for a position in the radiation lab-and was surprised to get it! Maybe now that I had taken more college courses, or perhaps my scientist friend? I would never know. The day I donned on my hazmat suit and entered the lab for the first time was a day of excitement for me, but was one day to be my bane.

I was an assistant to a scientist who was studying and testing radiation for medicinal purposes. I loved my job, and all seemed good for awhile. But there was one thing the laboratory had failed to notice, and that was that there was a tiny tear in my suit. I just figured I was just eating something funny when I started feeling sick, but over the course of a few weeks got worse. I finally realized what was going on-radiation sickness. I reported it to my supervisor and the tear was found. But the damage was done. In a few places my skin seemed to just crack, and strange blue ooze dripped out. All my bodily fluids in fact turned blue. I often now wore goggle, for my eyes glowed brightly. The science lab, quite upset with the incident and finding my case to be unique, took me in to study and help me along with still letting me work within reason. They even created a little apartment of sorts for me to live in and arranged for my college classes to be taken online. So that is my life today...my radiation levels are not high enough to hurt anyone immediately, but long exposure does hurt anyone without proper protection. I myself usually am seen with a hazmat suit on to prevent exposure to the employees of the lab and those allowed to visit me.

[Sheer]

Marking

[Clara Erassari]

Ah, possible res if I can find the time. <3

[Solanum]

Nevermind.

[Qualeo]

Our lives connected by the string of fate.... the master's games pulling our strings....

name

Mannequin

gender

Male

personality

Mannequin, or Quinn as his friends call him, is plagued by a fear of pain, especially regarding needles and other sharp objects. Though he cannot actually feel most pain, when he sees a small cut he recognizes it as an injury and reacts as if he was feeling pain. In reality, while his body feels nothing, his minds is completely convinced that the pain does exist. He really only gets an intense headache from this, though it is hard to tell form his reactions. All of his pain is mostly psychologically, as he has aichmophobia (Fears of knives and sharp objects) and agliophobia(fear of pain).

From the age of 13, Mannequin has developed a need for companionship that borders obsessiveness closely. He seeks friends of all kinds, but only to benefit both his inability to be alone for long and his desire to increase his 'collection'. He has grown quite clingy and incapable of making decisions on his own without somebodies presence. He even currently lives with his parents, despite being a grown adult, as he simply can't let go of the comfort he had enjoyed throughout his childhood. Though his parents try to push him to live his own life, he continues to subconsciously resist and always returns to them.

Mannequin is easy to become friends with, as he is easily trusting and subconsciously wants as many friends and paths to follow as he can. It can be regarded as a bit selfish of him, as he only attempts to establish friendships for the sake of adding to his collection and to have many ways to escape to another path if he finds one is unsuitable. He rarely ever actually truly cares for anybody he becomes close to, and even when he does, he is quick to break off the connection as he is somewhat fearful of strong relationships. He simply wants friends he can go to when he needs change or needs help, but never to try to get to know them or even consider their own feelings. He has yet to have too much trouble with this practice, but he is somewhat cautious about eventually stumbling upon a problem.

He also lacks a sense of empathy, seeing the world for what is visible rather than even bothering to truly understand the feelings of others. He is somewhat capable of seeing past another deceptions and their true personality, but he can never understand how their feelings work. Similar to his lack of true physical pain, he cannot feel the consequences of his actions and words and only speaks the blunt truth. Under normal circumstances, he might lose friends, but his obsession with his collection has made him rather quick to mend the situation despite not truly understanding.

Mannequin is truly double-sided character, as some may feel inclined to pity him while others may be disgusted by his actions. He takes on both the role of the puppet and the puppet-master, living his life guided by others while at the same time treating others in the same fashion. He is a hypocrite, and while he may never understand why, it can be easy to spot by those who truly understand the actions of a complicated kiamara like himself.

history

Mannequin was born in to a rather wealthy household, though they were not considered filthy rich. They simply had enough money to support their family along with a variety of accessories to their life that held no purpose other than to entertain them. As the firstborn, he was spoiled with all sorts of toys and attention as he was the only one in the family there to receive it at the time. He was given a variety of toys, but he was always fond of the dolls and stuffed animals more than any other toy. In fact, he became obsessed with dolls to the point of eventually regarding them as other living beings in the house. Though his parents worried, they disregarded this as a phase and thus left him to his fantasies during his early childhood.

As he grew older, however, his obsession magnified. He began seeing 'life' in anything that anything that seemed to have a pair of eyes, a mouth, a nose, and a place where a heart could be. Eventually, he began creating his own dolls. At first, around the age of 10 or so, he simply created dolls from his own imagination. He has always been very careful about his designs, wanting to bring out as much life as he could. As time passed, however, he began creating dolls of others in his life, creating something similar to voodoo dolls. At this point, his parents had grown somewhat fearful of their child's development and began lashing out at him. They no longer saw him as the innocent little boy who enjoyed playing with dolls. To them, he had become a strange little boy who seemed to be obsessed with control and the lives of others. They wished to curb him of this behavior, deciding it was best to send him away for an extended period of time. While they eventually succeeded, as he was eventually sent home 'cured', they also managed to take away more than his obsession with control. They took away his ability to keep control over his own life, thus cursing him to forever need to the support of another.

He was sent away to a special hospital, one that specialized in the treatment of extreme obsessions and other oddities. He ended up spending about five years of his life from the age of 11 at the hospital, but only the last year truly affected him. The first few years were spent being studied somewhat, allowed to continue with his games but in a restricted manner. He was found to become very erratic and angry when the dolls based off others were stolen from him, while he was rather mellow when it came to his own creations. He interacted with a few other patients during his time there, but was usually kept in solitude to ensure their behavior did not mingle with another's. Despite his limited interactions, he seemed to have Eidetic memory, creating dolls of those he had met only for a few minutes. He recalled their behavior and appearance almost perfectly, creating the dolls to fit each one. These were usually taken away from him to be studied, but eventually returned to cease is temper tantrums.

His last year, however, was one of the most sociable life there at the hospital. They began many attempts to curb his behavior with a variety of activities, most of which ended unsuccessfully. At the beginning of their project, they were rather nice and sympathetic of Mannequin, simply trying to teach him what was right and wrong through simple and easy method. They tried the treat methods, but found he only acted 'good' when they offered a treat. Otherwise, he would continue with his doll making and playing. Eventually, they realized his behavior was not something easily destroyed. In the end, they decided to leave his behavior and obsession alone, instead deciding to create a permanent fear in his heart. They focused on destroying the main focus of his obsession ; the needles he so lovingly used to create the dolls. Through the months that followed their realization, it was found that instilling the phobia of needles and other sharp objects was much easier than attempting to destroy the odd behavior he demonstrated when he first arrived there. At the end of his last year, he had been pronounced cure when they recognized the phobia taking its toll on him when it pertained to his dolls. At the age of sixteen, after losing a large portion of his childhood, Mannequin was finally sent home.

However, even with the fears and trauma he had gained during his time at the hospital, his love of dolls was not so easily destroyed. He was a bit smarter about how he behaved however, as he kept his dolls hidden in his closet rather than in the open to avoid being separated again. Mannequin had been so lonely at the hospital to the point of needing other beings in his life to continue without any problems.Though his dolls could easily help him, he could not bear to be sent away again and thus relied on his parents rather than the dolls to keep his emotions stable.

The dolls still remained apart of his life, however, and despite his newly found fear of needles Mannequin could not bear to set aside his needle. He continued to make dolls, even though he was physically afraid of the tool he used to create the perfect beings. At this point in his life, he began to cry quite a bit. He seemed to be in a constant state of tears, though it was more noticeable when he was creating the dolls he loved so much. Occasionally he would prick his finger, causing him to go in to an almost violent fit and resulting in him thrusting his creation away. Despite this, he would always start again and continue with the emotionally taxing activity.

Currently, he remains at home with his parents, clinging to their wealth for support while at the same time engaging in quite a bit of social activity outside of the house. He is constantly out of the house, though only when he is with other kiamaras. He continues making dolls of everyone he makes, keeping them hidden away in his closet to avoid detection. He wishes to continue to add to his collection, a desire that has developed in to a rather selfish attitude when it comes to keeping those he meets close.

his dolls

Apart of his life from the beginning, his doll collection is a steadily growing hoard that he adds to weekly. While originally each doll was simple a part of his imagination, something developed through his own ideas, he began replicating others in to his work and eventually began hoarding them similar to that of his dolls. Every doll almost perfectly resembles the inspiration, even as far as to replicate their personality in to their clothes and facial expression. He is incredibly proud of his collection, though the means to create them is emotionally damaging to him.

Despite his fear of needles, he continues to use them to create the perfect dolls. He is constantly crying while doing this, however, but refuses to stop to ensure the quality and quantity of his hoard. Occasionally he pricks his finger or causes a cut, and while he has never felt any physical pain, the sight is enough to set his phobia in to full gear. He will never leave a doll unfinished, however, and will always return after he has calmed down enough to continue working. It i quite amazing that he is able to create dolls with such a high quality, as his hands are almost always shaking from the crying he does. He has never shown anybody his collection, as he fears being returned to the hospital that ruined the once entertaining process of creating his dolls.

his blood

A mystery even his parents have yet to solve ; the blood he cries instead of regular tears. When he returned from the hospital, he began to cry blood instead of regular tears. His parents blame the hospital, but nobody is truly sure what happened to cause such a change. Some say his denial that he did not feel pain overwhelmed him and his brain, causing some sort of disorder to form. The more negative, and unbalanced, folks assume he made some kind of deal with the devil and that is what caused the blood. Nobody is really sure, but he seems to not be bothered by it.

a doll that feels but never shares

The music beat softly in the background, the crowd having thinned ad dispersed by this point. The only sound that remained besides the music was the rain hitting the windows from the outside, the darkness shrouding the streets with little consideration for those who had to walk. With this in mind, Zaira found herself lingering behind in her club as she closed it down for the evening, occasionally glancing outside as she sipped her hot chocolate and worked on the paperwork for the weekly sales. Technically Tranquility was still open, but for the most part everything was shut down until a customer decided to waltz in. It was highly unlikely, however, as the weather outside had ruined the desire to party that evening. Even Zaira found herself growing weary of the jazz music that had continued on for hours without end. Though she had not turned it off in awhile, she was seriously considering it at this point.

"I'm leaving for the night boss. Sure you don't need any help?" the piercing sound of her assistant pierced through Zaira's daze, startling her slightly as she glanced up from the paperwork. She hesitated momentarily, as if debating whether or not to bother him.

"No, you're fine. Go ahead on home. You have to work tomorrow anyways, so if I don't finish anything I'll leave it to you" she waved the other kia off with a smirk, causing the assistant to bark out a laugh. "Fine, but if you're here in the morning we're kicking you out" With that, he was gone, leaving Zaira to laugh by herself as she returned to her paperwork.

The sound of her pen flashing across the paper combined with the low music and soft pounding of the rain outside made for a very relaxing evening, though Zaira eventually found herself weary of her work. She leaned back in her chair, stretching and yawning as she glanced around the room. Her gaze darted to the clock, groaning slightly as she realized only fifteen minutes had passed since she had been left alone. She had now begun to regret her decision to deny the help, but at the same time, she knew she would feel guilty having him stay longer. It was bad enough to work late, but to work in the morning as well? No, she could not burden him with any more than she was asking. She was glad nobody had yet to come in....

She sighed a bit at the sound of the door creaking up slowly, looking up from her paperwork with her usual smile as she greeted the newcomer. Her smile quickly vanished, however, at the sight of him.

The newcomer seemed to have something down his face; if it had not been for the abnormal color and glow she might have mistaken it for tears. Even his eyes seemed to glow underneath the hoodie had on and his entire body was shaking, from cold or fear she could not tell. Regardless, the poor kia seemed to be out of it. She stood up quickly, concerning flashing across her face as she approached him.

"Oh..welcome..are you okay? Do you need a tea?" she did not touch him, but hovered slightly behind him as he walked. He seemed dazed for a moment before he focused his attention on her, carefully reaching up to remove his hood. Despite the leaking, he seemed to be smiling. Zaira was completely bewildered.

"I'm fine..I was just coming back from something fun and it suddenly rained. It frightened me, so I ran in here. I hope this is open?" he inquired, shaking very slightly as he stared at the still processing Zaira. She took a moment to collect herself before she smiled warmly and nodded.

"Y-yes we're open. Would you like something to drink? or eat? I know the rain can be uncomfortable" she laughed a bit, feeling a bit uneasy from his expression. The leaking form his eyes bothered her the most, but something about that smile of his really unsettled her. Despite that, she was a professional and knew her job came before her personal feelings.

His smile widened at the offer, nodding slightly as he spoke. His eye never drifted away from her, giving off that same unsettling vibe she had felt earlier as he spoke. "Oh that would be nice. A simple black tea with a bit of cream and sugar would be nice if you could". He sat down carefully as he spoke, his gaze continuing to lock on to her as she nodded and walked behind the counter. Zaira ducked down a bit, composing herself before she popped back out again to make the tea. She decided to start a simple conversation, hoping to elevate the mood.

"So, you mentioned you were doing something fun earlier? I honestly didn't expect to see anybody out this late.." she began, keeping her eyes focused on the tea but not missing the slight twitch he made as she mentioned the activity. He seemed to be paralyzed for a moment before he responded.

"Ah, yes. I was...making a new doll. It's a hobby of mine you see. I like collecting them" his voice stuttered a bit as he spoke, as if the thought of it had spooked him. Zaira felt the tension rising as both kias seemed to be unsettled at this point, shaking slightly as she topped off his tea and carefully mixed it for him. She held the tea cup delicately in her hand as she walked over to the table, setting it down carefully.

"S-so, you like dolls? I used to play with them as a kid. I thought they were nice" she tried again to ease the tension, feeling as if she was walking through a room with nails. One wrong move and she could make the entire situation worse. Luckily, he seemed to settle down, carefully taking the tea and sipping from it. His hand shook a bit, spilling a bit of tea on his hand. Surprisingly, he did not seem to notice.

"Yes. I had pre-made ones as a child, but now I have a preference. All of my dolls are brimming with life from their inspiration. I'm always adding more," he spoke, eyeing her quietly as he took another sip. This time Zaira failed to notice as she began to settle down. She felt the uneasiness drift away as they spoke, smiling slightly as she remembered the dolls of her past.

"That is very sweet.." she spoke, the other kia chuckling a bit as he took another sip. This time, however, he set the cup down and extended his hand towards her. She blinked, startled by the sudden action.

"Forgive me for the suddenness, but I've enjoyed my time here and thought maybe you would like to be my friend?" he smiled, the uneasiness settling back in as Zaira eyed the hand carefully. She slowly extended her hand forward, speaking as she did so.

"Well, I guess we could but I can't be your friend without a name. I'm Zaira, how about you?" she smiled slightly, disguising her discomfort as she took his hand and carefully shook it, twitching a bit as his hand enveloped hers for a moment. He smiled wider, seemingly pleased.

"My name is Mannequin. Pleased to meet you Zaira"

With that, the other kias suddenly withdrew his hand and stood up carefully, confusing Zaira even more. She stood up as well, though with caution as she watched Mannequin prepare to leave.

"You're leaving so soon? I assumed you would stay longer" she blinked, feigning surprise ad hiding her relief as Mannequin started walking towards the door. He laughed a little, shaking his head as he adjusted his hood and started walking towards the door.

"No, I feel it best to leave now before it gets too late. It was nice to meet you, though you would do better to stop hiding behind that smile. Not sharing is truly an ugly behavior" he smiled brightly, Zaira's eyes widening in shock as he left without another word. Her shock soon turned to anger, scowling a bit as she stomped back to her paperwork furiously.

'tch, the nerve of that guy..' she growled a bit before settling down and calming herself. After a moment, she returned to her paperwork as if nothing had happened.

------------

The doll rested limply in his hands, shaking as the kia attempted to sew the final piece carefully. Droplets of blue blood fell to the ground around him, but never once hit the doll as he finished. Mannequin's entire body was shaking as he worked before he finally finished, setting own the needle carefully as he breathed heavily. His eye's were wide and his face pale, but he seemed somewhat relieved to have finished the doll. Taking a moment to breathe, he carefully picked up the doll and spoke between choked sobs.

"My- newest addition. Admittedly - beautiful, but such an ugly - trait. Unable to share - what a pity" he breathed before carefully setting the sparkling doll on a shelf lined with various other dolls. Though they all seemed to have the same generic makeup, the kia's hands seemed to be enclosed around her chest and her eyes closed, as if hiding something.

[polariie]

❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖

❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖
❖

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
Ｈａｖｅ ｙｏｕ ｅｖｅｒ ｄｉｅｄ ｂｅｆｏｒｅ?
◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢

‘Tis a simple question, although one not many are likely to answer. Death is a seductive mistress, with promise to end the pain, to end the suffering; soft words of restful slumber, sweetly purring into your head of escape. But she is no honest woman. Her deceit has brought many into her merciless grip, trapped. There is no escape, no better place, no going back. There is only eternal suffering. So I repeat my question, have you died before? Have you died before, only to have your soul and body ripped between voids, twisted into something not quite natural? Lady Death is quite a tricky woman, always calculating, always ready to pounce at the opportunity to bind another soul to her bidding. Why send the wailing dead to the void, when you can twist their whole being into something else? A ‘Something Else’ to serve you? To fulfil unsavory deeds in your name... For some, this would be quite the easy decision... Ahh, I suddenly feel my lady commanding my attention. Hmm, so many questions and not enough time to answer them. I apologize for the inconvenience, but the solid answers will have to be delivered at a later date. So, I bestow a regretful adieu...

Between voids; Magnuson's Remembrance

Haziness clouds your head, disabling your ability to think, to comprehend your situation. Drifting between voids your mind complains as it struggles to regain dominance in this dance of cognitive dissonance. Wisps of thought echoed through your head, desperately trying to communicate to the rest of you. Delicate memories softy resounded within, glimpses of your last moments teasingly waltzed away from you. Slowly recalling how to move, the tips of your limbs buzzed, fuzzily remembering their purpose. Twitching and jerking, you open your eyes, and are startled to see... Nothing... But it is not an empty nothing, some sort of sickly absence of anything good. The evil silence that lurks here is deafening. This silence was not that of a sleeping home, or forgotten paths through quiet fields, for even then, in the silence is life; the soft patter of tiny mammalian creatures as they scurry to hidden nooks, safe havens from the eyes of feline hunters. Startled squeaks, hushed paws, a pounce. Or the sound of forgotten fields, lazy and tranquil, wheat stalks rustling, as if discussing matters of the utmost secrecy. This silence is dead. Empty and ugly, as if it were some vile beast waiting to devour its prey, it billowed, thick and swirling around you. A figure emerges through the gloom. A feminine form, graceful and terrible. She is both there and not, her form ethereal. She approaches, powerful, and undoubtedly in perfect control. You hear a noise, a potent melody, it takes you a moment to realize it belongs to Her. Both a deafening shout and a hushed whisper she speaks, but not words for your ears, but are spoken through your mind. Ageless. The dual voice glides through you, words you had forgotten sparked memories and dreams. Ordinary, plain, coward. Words laced with venom brought back more forgotten realities, remembrance once again pushed through you. Recollections pulsed and expanded, emerging and at the tip of your mind. Grasping fiercely at that little crack, you pounded and coiled, breaking down the calloused walls. A surge of bright consciousness surrounded you as a fierce memory grabbed hold of you...

Magnuson's Flashback; 1678

"Magnuson!... Magnuson! For The Makers sake, get up, you useless excuse for a man!" Vicious words rocked through my consciousness, exhausted limbs wailed in protest as I forced them to respond. Slowly rubbing my eyes with my palm, I shooed the sleep away, mentally promising it that is may return once the day is done. Rising to my feet, I once again observe the dreary surroundings. Four wooden walls, a tiny room barely large enough to hold a cot, my meager belongings stashed in a small chest. Although small and dingy, my room was graced with a window. Nothing fancy or extravagant, the small portal to the outside world fascinated me. It allowed me to observe the azure blue sky, when, on occasion, I had to sit for hours after being locked away in this miniscule cell. On lucky days I'm also able to maybe catch my reflection in the opaque glass, my vanity never truly sated. Running my thin fingers through my silky onyx tresses, I leave the room, careful to close the door behind me. The wicked voice once again screaming incoherently, fortunately, the woman who the voice belonged to, was not directed at me, but toward some poor soul who shared in my unlucky predicament. For as long as I could remember, I was on my own. Growing up in the gutter with next to nothing, living off of rats and a few pieces of bread from generous citizens, I had somehow been able to keep my proud and vanish stature. Standing tall and dignified didn't improve my public status however, and in the last few years I have been in servitude to the Wicked Woman. For now, they may laugh, but one day I vowed to prove my superiority. Briskly skirting around the monster and its prey, I went on with my morning chores, detesting the menial labour. My distaste always brought on the wrath of The Woman, and today was like any other, after I scowled in displeasure as being told to clean the horses stable. Her beating were never lacking in ferocity, as the surly woman could deliver quite the hit. Grabbing the nearest object, which happened to be a wooden broom, she landed the first blow on my left ribs, knocking the air out of me. Gasping for breath I wasn't prepared for her next blow, as two sharp hits delivered themselves across my right leg. Tumbling to the ground, I curled into a tight ball as she beat all over my body. After a time, I lost consciousness.

Between voids; Magnuson's Remembrance

The memory drifted, the pain you had received felt fresh on your body, although the bruises and cuts had long since disappeared from your skin. The void returned, as you shakily knelt before Her, the dark lady. Your identity still an enigma, you growled in frustration, mentally voicing this to Her. Her voice entered you again, slithering between the cracks in your head and guiding you back towards that hazy light...

Magnuson's Flashback; England, 1678

I awoke. Pain laced itself throughout my being, as I groggily tried to sit up. However, a hand pushed against my shoulder, and laid me back against the cot. My eyelids were swollen, but a prettily sweet voice sounded in my ear. "Oh Magnuson, please don't move. You took quite the beating, so please just lay still and rest". The girl then gently explained, that after my vicious beating, fellow servant's had dragged me to my room, and had dressed my wounds. I barely stayed conscious through this exchange, and fell asleep shortly after. Drifting in and out of sleep for the next several days, the girl continued to look after me and explained she had been hired on as a maid. On the third day, the swelling in my eyelids had gone down enough for me to see, although the rest of me wasn't in a hurry to heal. The girl continued to look after me, and we got along well enough. Suddenly struck with curiosity, I requested to know her name, as I realized I had never seen her before now. She innocently responded "It doesn't matter" and there was a seriousness behind her eyes that stopped me from inquiring further. "She's a terrible woman" she growled in distress as she once again applied a hot compress to my injuries "I swear, no-one would miss that old hag". Glancing at her face I raised my eyebrows, surprised by the venomous words, although the hate within myself had started to spread through me, I was still startled to hear such words from this innocent. "You want her dead?" I asked curiously. She shrugged, smiled that girlish little grin and responded a sweet "I suppose", although she did not elaborate. That night started spinning dangerous wheels in my head.

Magnuson's Flashback; England, 1678

Darkness was my friend that night. Its veiled shadows walked beside me, my friend, and companion. It had been a month since that beating, and I had recovered better than ever, and ready to turn things around. The rickety house swayed, its decades old flooring and foundation creaked in the hushed silence. It almost choked me, in the knowledge of what my actions will bring. I crept noiselessly, my padded toes hushed against the floorboards. I approached the Wicked Woman's bedroom door, the door knob hung loosely, more for decoration than security. I held my breath as inch-by painful-inch the door swayed open. Silent as death, I tip toed my way in, careful to dodge all the creaky floorboards. I neared the woman's bedside, she breathed deeply in heavy sleep. Hate for this woman surged through me, ringing in my ears and burning. A pillow kept down with a strong hand was all it took, but its her eyes that I'll never be able to forget. Fear, disbelief, hatred, emotions that all flashed within her gaze, before they went sightless and limp; the first life snuffed by my hand. I left that night, but I was a vain man with no purpose. Until Her.

Magnuson's Flashback; England, 1679

She appeared without a noise. Her ethereal form was terribly beautiful, full of power and dignity. Darkness seemed to obey Her every command, as it billowed and danced around her. Splaying out as if waves upon the oceanside, delicate wisps dissipated and rejoined. Lady Death's power pulsed, and reverberated as She spoke sweet honeyed words, with promises of power and nobility, for a small price. My mind ached and sang for joy at her promises, but and I wordlessly asked of this 'small price' . A grin graced Her features. In exchange for this earthly power, she would receive my services after my death. I regarded her request warily, but my vanity and ambition trampled my common sense, and I agreed. A pact, signed in blood was made that night, one that would end me.

Between voids; Magnuson's Remembrance

Remembrance blinded you, your life rushing into your mind, to fill the missing flask. Gasping violently, your head bursting at the seams, you fall to your knees, holding your head as the intense waves of memory collide within you. The waves subside, and you remember more clearly the years of dignified status, as you were feared and revered by all, truly known as magnæ, Magnuson, The Great One, all thanks to The Lady's pact. Lady Death gazes on in cold indifference, waiting for you to recover. Swallowing, you are finally able to stand, and rise to face the Dark Lady. "'Tis time to fulfill my end of the contract, is it not?" You ask lowly, knowing the answer, Lady Death nods in one motion "Indeed, you have been rotting in the Void for long enough. Now begone from me, and take lives in my name". The Void around you crashes and you are not quite there.

Magnuson Revived; New York; 2012

Icy wind bites into your face, digging its teeth into your flesh, and making its way through to your bone. Jerking up in surprise you gasp and the sudden rush of life, this resurrected body revived. Gazing around your surroundings, foreign masses loom in the sky, bright lights flashed within them. Skyscrapers... The word resounds in your head, Lady Death's dual voice rang softly, gently guiding you through your new life; a life of danger, death, wonder, and discovery.

Magnuson To Reader; 10/31/2014; You have seen through his eyes

Hello? Are you alright? I'm sorry, you were asleep right where I left you, are you sure you're recovered? Ah yes, well if you're standing you must be fine-ahh... I see this glow about you... Has the Dark Lady visited you? Oh, I see, she has shown you what I am, no? And through my own eyes? What a lovely show that must have been! Ahh, but what is this plasma you say? I see My Lady forgot a few details I see hmm. Well, to put it simply, it is residue from my soul. You see, once people die, their souls leave them, as I'm sure you are aware. However, their souls aren't supposed to return to their earthly confines, but, as I am an example, it does happen, and the physical consequences are a little... Unpleasant, although interesting to observe. The orifices of this body ever leaking this... Blood-like substance. This form is also surprising fragile, easily cut, a if a canvas stretched over too much framework, the injuries do not inflict pain, surprisingly enough.. Yes, well I digress, you now know what I am, as The Lady has explained. She has shown great interest in you, well, I'll just have to wish you goodluck, and a little advice... Its not worth it, whatever she promises you, its not worth it.

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
-Ｎａｍｅ-
Magnuson
Also called Mag or Mags
A name of Swedish and Danish origin
Meaning 'The Great One' in Latin

-Ｇｅｎｄｅｒ-
Male

-Ａｇｅ-
He was 24 at the time he and Death signed
the contract, and now appears as the same age

-Ｏｃｃｕｐａｔｉｏｎ-
Mag does not have a day job,
his primary objective is to
fulfill all of Lady Death's missions

-Ｔｉｍｅｆｒａｍｅ-
He lived in a small village in England in the
1700s, but has been brought back, and is
now living in modern day New York

-Ｃｌｏｔｈｉｎｇ Ｓｔｙｌｅ-
Being from the 1700's,
he is quite baffled by modern fashion
and is a little clueless about what
looks good on him in this
timeframe, although Death
will often give her voice her
opinions on his outfits, much to
Mag's annoyance

◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
-Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ-
Vain - Proud - Dignified - Ruthless
Humorous - Cocky

-Ｔｈｅ Ｐｌａｓｍａ-
The blood-like substance
that seep through his eyes, nose
mouth, and cuts is a sort of
ectoplasm. A vibrant residue
left behind by the soul within
the body.

-Ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓ Ｌｉｆｅ/Ｃｌｅａｒｅｒ Ｅｘｐｌａｎａｔｉｏｎ-
From a young age
Magnuson was an orphan. With
only a name to his person. Growing
up on streets in poverty, he eventually
became an indentured servant, and
worked there for four years before
murdering his master and making the
pact with Lady Death. After the Pact took
place, he quickly arose through the
social ranks, the populace suddenly
regarding him as some sort of ruler.
He lived out his days as a vengeful
monarch, and died from natural causes
After his death his soul was kept in a sort
of stasis, in the void. Once Lady Death required
his service, she revived his soul and body.
Although having a little trouble with remembering
who he was, after two hundred years in stasis, he
was ordered to carry out various objectives
Lady Death required of him.
◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢