The Phantom Gate | Sign Ups

[Elle Joyner]

Please be sure to review the entire Interest check thread before filling out a sheet - this includes the rules, races and all magic information. If you have questions, feel free to PM me! I'll probably allow for one to two weeks to finish sheets depending on interest amount. Works in progress MAY be posted, but you will need to indicate when you've finished!

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_____________CHARACTER SHEET___

APPEARANCE || Please use realistic FCs only (if you would like to include a picture of their non-human form you may use REALISTIC digital art. No anime/cartoons). You may include a written description as well, if you would like. Please be mindful of the physical attributes according to race.
WEIGHT/HEIGHT ||
IDENTIFYING MARKS || Scars, markings or tattoos of significance

FULL NAME (may include nickname/alias/pronunciation)||
AGE || Please bear in mind the different aging structures and how this will relate to your character's age. Your character should be 18+ (exceptions to this must be brought to me and my co-gm)
RACE/SUBCLASS || For example : Human/Plainspoken. Note the races of FULL demon and FULL vampire are not playable at this time. FULL Celestial is also unplayable. For now, Champions are also unplayable.
MAGIC TYPE/SCHOOL || For example : Divine/Invocation or Ritual/Runes. Note the main seven schools of magic are only available to HUMAN races (or half human). Ritual magic is available to any race. Reprehensible Magic is not viable for PCs at the moment.
SPELL SPECIALIZATIONS || Three spells which your character excels at (note… no one is good at everything! Please pick spells within your magic type/school).
ELEMENT CONNECTION || Which of the seven elements best suits your character's personality.

OCCUPATION || Plainspoken and/or otherwise.

PERSONALITY TRAITS || Four traits which define your character's general personality.
STRENGTHS || three character strengths
WEAKNESSES || four weaknesses
MOTIVATION || What drives your character. Why do they do what they do?

PERSONAL GOAL || What does your character hope to achieve within their lifetime. This could be anything from career/familial goals, to revenge against an enemy, to unearthing a great mystery. Be creative.

DEFINING ACT || Something from your character's past which helped to define them, today. This could be an act of heroism, a lie they told, a secret they carry or a moment of tragedy.

BRIEF BIO || A brief understanding of their life, as is relevant to the story!

OTHER || Anything else pertinent to the sheet. This can include Familiars, Spiritual weaponry or anything along those lines.

 

[littlekreen]

Appearance (human) || The human illusion varies somewhat in the current era. However, it is generally a pale-skinned female of mixed descent with platinum blonde hair of a very metallic sheen and roiling amber eyes. Distended skin in a wood-grain pattern on half of their face goes down the entire right arm. The only mark on her otherwise ashen and clear complexion as if a single layer of bark were torn off a tree. The apparent weight of her body (on the environment for the only person who can interact with her at least) is denser than the average human would be at her size. While she is very fit, she's not overly muscular. Her human illusion varies to some degree to something the owner would find pleasing or attractive, even along gender lines, as she's been without a true body for so long while unable to see herself.


Appearance (Faerie) || Before the war, her appearance was one more common to pixies. Her form has taken on Woodsie features more common to Dryad between constant bloodletting and healing by using her recomposition power. The exile curse altered her further by its immolation from head to arm and transformation into a staff. Now even if freed of the curse, the Woodsie flesh inside her shows through the human illusion. Only the ax's current owner or those with foresight can see her if she can manifest in the environment as unbodied at all. Those with the gift of foresight can see her true form, just differently indistinct, though still subject to being unbodied.​

WEIGHT/HEIGHT || 180lbs/167cm
IDENTIFYING MARKS || wood-grain-like smooth scar from the head all the way to the apparent finger marks around the wrist of her right hand where a binding seared her skin away.



FULL NAME || Castanea Fullthorne
AGE || 430 (good portion spent in stasis through magical exile)
RACE/SUBCLASS || Faerie/Pixie
MAGIC TYPE/SCHOOL || Fae Magic/Remedy

SPELL SPECIALIZATIONS

Infuse Verdancy

Remedy ritual requires a prepared sapwell bottle and a potable energy-dense liquid. The healing strike itself is delivered by a song when hitting injured targets with blunt weapons. This doesn't generally leave bruises. She uses typically sap, honey, or plant oils which often results in rapid inebriation if major wounds close. Edged weapons invert the direction of flow where her exile is for just such a use.

Woodsie Recomposition

Ritual invoked into soft earth that compacts living plant life on unbroken earth into woodsie bodies to regenerate them, including single or types of mundane living plants or trees. Patently unhealthy for most other animal life if used on them without strong magical earth or wood ties. Beyond the resulting dead zone makes a sapient target very stiff and somewhat confused for a short while. Often used while gardening to destroy weeds.

Invoke Sanctuary

Requires a natural meadow entirely surrounded by woody plants well above the eyes of four bodies of equal standing willingly interred alive within. Inhibits the progression of infernal, magical, or conventional sources of diseases and infection for those in the location comparable to the interred. Those bearing arms and trying entry tend to be misled with drunken wandering by the forest as long as they carry a weapon. If unhealthy or inherently infernal, it also proves difficult to leave for similar reasons unless escorted.

​

ELEMENT CONNECTION || Earth

OCCUPATION || Exiled Faerie, former Willow Cudgel of the Fore

PERSONALITY TRAITS || Fervent, Matriarchal, unsubtle. The years and inadvertent exposure to plainspoken have moderated her ill-temper somewhat. A later affinity developed for the firefighters that come with cities after ending up in their custody. However, while much more lucid now, she's retained a very focused hatred toward fires, arsonists, and demonkind.​

STRENGTHS || dogged, watchful, self-reliant

WEAKNESSES || hot-tempered with other Faerie and in general, distrustful of strangers, possessive particularly of beautiful things and firefighters, unable to relax, poor sense of empathy for anything but Nature.

MOTIVATION || Originally trained to be a defender of the land's fertility was set against the malevolent influence of the phantom realm. A conversion and purification of the anima of forces of destruction in warfare to use it to repair the living wreckage they left behind. While the powers of the phantom realm have fled the world, fire and calamity have left neither forest nor man. The natural world's suffering is the only thing left she can feel and regret.​

PERSONAL GOAL || For her multiple bindings to be shattered, without breaking the tethers she's sutured other lives with, and to be left to mother the plainspoken firefighters she's now concerned herself with.

DEFINING ACT (past era)

Struck by the sight of another innocent ravaged by demonkind that started to weaken. They'd forced the demons back; the gate had closed. Castanea looked upon prisoners of war and took an ax to exact a price times three with their heads to save just one more.

DEFINING ACT (modern era)

Despite being unable to interact with the world for so long, she dutifully followed yet another firefighter that carried her. He moved through a burning building then was beset by a flaming wall collapsing as he tried to hack an exit through a door. As he called for help, a worry for one of her little water sprites sprouted out of a certain withered empathy. Something that struggled into the light for the first time in many years. A smoky form grabs his hand and the axhead as he passed out when the wall came down. The ax bracing the wall perfectly as the fires grew too close.
Others tore in behind him to escape with his life if for a moment struck by the scene. His fellows mourned the loss of their traditional ax finally destroyed after so many years. Unable to safely take the axe with them. The fire finally put out in the twilight hours after the building collapsed. The following night, as they lost one of their own, one was heard at the door then in the halls. In that darkened hour of so many with their fallen made the intruder a thing sought but not found. A well-abused and blackened ax, caked with ash, now returned to its mantlepiece in the tragically abandoned office. Only sooty bare footprints left behind from a door with their hidden key from outside still stuck in the lock.

BRIEF BIO (Past era)

The war with the phantom realm spared no others in the endless pouring out of demons. A defiling of earth that the willow cudgel was trained to reverse. Those Faerie fighting on long-suffering land, even if unbroken, did none too well in the constant warfare. Especially Willow cudgel, who all saw the sources of suffering and death of the terrified firsthand. Castanea was concerned with demons conquering the earth of the plainspoken, found it fell on deaf ears. People less able to remove these creatures from beyond the liminal spaces and create another tainted soil to attack from. Unsatisfied with the disinterest of her superiors in the tainting of foreign earth left for beleaguered lands. She sacrificed her emblem to cross the veil and left her home behind.
There she fought and drew blood even as rumors grew from those she'd healed that a nameless one withered demons and built faerie sanctuaries hidden within corrupt lands but interred for the plainspoken—something not their hallmark. Commanders short on resources found critically wounded magi healed that flung themselves forward to war along the bloodiest fronts. Demons hollowed of essence sprouting new growth like a fungus cleansed rot to healthy soil.
Enemies grew fewer and fewer when the gate finally closed though the deaths continued to linger. Her price times three taken within this lingering dark to save the innocent. Some faerie found amusement in the blood Warsong of retribution at fresh enemies and washed themselves of the affair. The plainspoken expressed concern instead and began to ask questions. Faeries were content only to consider how their attack dog would be contained should they need them again. As the decrees came to the fore, the willow cudgel and others became politically inconvenient by the nature of their training as it offended the sensibilities of the High Conjurers.
Summoned to fae lands and sacrificing her ax for the last time, she found herself exiled by transmutation into a short stave of heartwood. Something they could replant if needed, and the deprivation of agency satisfied the letter of the decree. In that exile of unwanted evidence had their permission to leave then be hidden but could never exercise anything. Fae magic and memory are fickle, and she was stored too long; her existence was lost. Then the forgotten staff was stolen as precious and sold in the realm of the plainspoken, provoking a moment of clarity where Castanea decided to sacrifice her pride. That she could never be persuaded to return. This cycle repeated itself, and its recognizable value was lost along the way. Even in the presence of plainspoken, a thing done long enough with meaning can perturb the natural course of faerie magic even if its patterns repeat.

BIO (modern-day)

Her awareness barely extant after transmutative exile knows only that her stave changed hands several times, sat for many years as it did so, then was taken and shifted into the realm of the plainspoken. In that moment of clarity, forced to choose, sacrificed her pride. Never intending to be persuaded to return. What was seen as rare resilient wood soon found its way into the hands of the plainspoken through mercantilists and thievery. A product sold among simple needs the first impulse for a plainspoken with strong haft that refused to break or burn was to smith a brass tool to the broader end. As years rolled on, that ax came into the possession of a firefighter who changed the brass once more and made it a fire ax. Superstitious creatures by nature, if not by history, their new ax became something of a good luck charm as it was passed down between groups and successors.
Soon the stories of a female human in the smoke seared by fire came to the fore as something of a haunting spirit seen by those making its use. As plainspoken legends appear from the ether, they're made mutable by their short lifespans. Thus the story changed from nebulous malevolence in the past closer to the gate to something to their benefit. The legend shaped by her bindings and presence became a protective spirit of one who died in a fire intent to watch over them as an emblem of service to each new company.
Thus the reverent rituals continued to fulfill dutiful repainting and servicing year after year when the brass-headed fire ax saw meticulous care. Soon the definition of unbodied began to take on new meaning as Castanea found her eyes to open. She saw a place for her purpose in the sacrifices they made to save the broken against fire and the dark. No small amount of distaste for the Faerie continued even as her opinions of plainspoken softened then grew in the void of pride.

OTHER || Bound against her powers. Bound to the stave thus to remain silently unbodied. Cast out from time and warded from re-entry by exile. Now unbodied in metaphorical sense is optionally visible to the owner of the ax or those with foresight. Never seen clearly unless passed from their possession to another if not by their death. Though she has always remained distant or vanishing on inspection, she saw no point in speaking to plainspoken. Forced to stay within sight of their carrier or be moved roughly into it. She observed their deeds with fuming frustration from the proximity of the ax for many of their short years. Thus has a working knowledge and fluency of the language from modern-day.​

 

[Verran]

APPEARANCE ||

WEIGHT/HEIGHT || 5'11, 132 Ibs
IDENTIFYING MARKS || Not really applicable. In Tobit's mind, he's blessed with an incredibly unassuming appearance. If it weren't that he liked to dress as, to anyone's right mind, mildly dapper for any situation with an absurdly obvious pipe that could only truly mark him as a gentleman

FULL NAME || Tobit Meadows ("and Mettle Dettlespain")
AGE || 103
RACE/SUBCLASS || Human/Enchanted
MAGIC TYPE/SCHOOL || Divine/Conjuration
SPELL SPECIALIZATIONS || Looking Glass, Guiding Soul, Summon
ELEMENT CONNECTION || Metal
OCCUPATION || Private Detective
PERSONALITY TRAITS || 1. Shrewd Mind 2. Aloof with scars. 3. Cultured, for the previous century. 4. Explorer at Heart.
STRENGTHS || 1. Highly Analytical 2. Calm Under Fire 3. Endless Focus
WEAKNESSES || 1. Gets lost in the details, past, present, and future. 2. Prideful 3. Behind the Times 4. Stubborn as Iron
MOTIVATION || To investigate and solve complex mysteries surrounding this blooming magical world while discovering the nature of his parents and of Mettle Dettlespain.

PERSONAL GOAL || Discover the true nature as to who, and what, his parents were. All the while, unraveling the ceaseless antics and mildly cryptic words spewed from his shadow that is Mettle Dettlespain that draw him ever onward.

DEFINING ACT || Of all the moment's that can be attributed to Tobit's century of life, the heart remains centerpiece. A job like many others, yet none so fell and deadly as it would prove to be. Down into the age-old sewers of New York City. To find a demon. His first one. It retreated before the divine might of Mettle Dettlespain. Flitting and harrying all the way before fleeing as the heart came into view. The entire time, it had pulsed achingly, painfully across Tobit's mind. Bearing down and awful rot of ceaseless pressure upon the duo. How long it had festered there, Tobit never learned. What it was growing to be, for it was growing, he never wanted to find out. With a scram of agony, he unloaded his Luger into the heart. Blood dyed the sewage of decades past a foul garish red. Summoning a spear, he drove it into the bleeding, beating heart before it finally stopped pulsing. Deluged in its blood, he fled. From then on, he has been aware and fully wary of the fact that these foul monstrosities would always lie in the depths of the world. And, to find the truths, he would have to face them.

BRIEF BIO || Tobit never knew his parents. All he knew of them was what Mettle Dettlespain didn't tell him. Which, as he came to learn over the century of his life, was quite a bit. As a babe, he was born in an orphanage in the depths of London. As a lad, he grew as what many considered to be mischievous boy. Often, he argued his behavior was the result of Mettle Dettlespain, a then imaginary friend. Time would see people's view of that change from child-ridden impishness to a concern of mental health. Which, at the time, was rarely considered a healthy field to find yourself a patient in.

"And so and such that it was to be most certain as there could be no other way, I gave him the resoundingly sound advice to keep me further a silent secret till such a moment that I would best be revealed, and undoubtedly reveled, in the existence of fellow beings of the elder days."

Mettle-Dettle, must you sprick your spain into my thinking train?

"Well, when your train is so lackluster that it makes it would only look out of place in the coal tender as being too poor of quality, yes I must make certain that you understand, beyond a driven rail spike into your head, that it's boring!"

You never grew up, did you?

"Never."

So with Peter-Pan interjecting commentary, Mettle Dettlespain could, of course, hardly leave the young Tobit alone. Indeed, living in his literal shadow and being so bonded to him, it was quite impossible. But it was, in that time, that the entity began…

"Whoa whoa whoa! How can you be so forward and forthright as to reveal that above, no, so far as before all else?! Where is your propriety in story telling my good man!?"

Well, like most others of the mortal race of man, I tell it in a lin…

"Fie, by the heavens above, the hells below, and all the fey wild around, do not say and withhold forever from saying the horrendously and obnoxious word linear. Nay. Nay, nay, nay I say. Nay, I say nay and for the seventh time and anon, I say nay! Just because the whole human race plods along at one step per second doesn't mean you must tell, let alone view, the story within such odious and hardly whelming limitations. Just skip, prance, skitter, or whichever you do with your keyboard to the end, dance back to that particular point somewhere, and let the rest sing itself out with the other storytellers in due, as humans say it, time."

Alright then. So it came to pass that, as the century drifted by, Tobit began to realize exactly how much Mettle Dettlespain was keeping from him. That, while sharing such an interwoven bond born of magic, the entity had discovered ways to mask the ancient crypts of its mind. Though still childish…"

"I object to … ooh! Look! Candy!"

In many respects, Tobit began his next journey to find out his past. For there was little he enjoyed more than a puzzle to shew upon. So it was that, our story's heavily amended start, that Tobit was considering all this as he looked out one Denver apartment window. A new base of operations to ponder a night's walk from. Take calls for his investigative work in. And wonder what went wrong with music in the last century that it resulted in the abominable sound coming through the roof. As a too steady, explosive heartbeat. But he mustn't think about that. The heart was dead, he was sure! Dead a half-century ago, by his own hand no less!

As ever, instincts and memory drew his pipe, stuffed it, and lit it whenever he remembered the heart. Raising his eyelids, he turned from the window and faced the expanded and detailed map of the Rocky Mountains. Paper and red string danced across it with notes and pictures. Sturdy hiking boots and a prepared pack stood by the door. While a city kid, born and bred, street smarts had long taught him to be prepared. Knowledge had only enforced the notion. Deciding a walk before tomorrow's expedition would be best, he stepped out and into the night. The whistle of a train reached his ears. One of the few sounds he could really recall his own time from. Even then, it was electric and almost alien wail to him.

 

[Dvyniai]

ERIN HATORI

name || Dr. Erin Hatori
age || 249
race || Human

subclass || Conjurer​

magic type || Psychic

magic school || Enchantment​

spell specializations || Duende, Lull, & Memory Modifier
element connection || Air
occupation || Clinical Psychologist - he runs his own private practice, catering mainly to the magical community and awoken plainspoken.

appearance || Erin stands at 5'10'', with dark brown hair and dark eyes. He has no unique identifying marks or tattoos.

persona

personality traits ||

Paternalistic - he has very strong fatherly instincts, that often extend to friends, particularly if they're younger than him.​

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Stubborn - once he sets his mind on something, it's very hard to change it.​

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Reserved - prefers to listen to others rather than be the one talking.​

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Humoristic - has a good sense of humor, and likes to goof off.​

strengths || Considerate, Warm, Selfless
weaknesses || Overly analytical, Follower, High-strung, Pretentious
motivation || Erin has always been driven by the idea of helping others. That was his dream when he was a kid, and it still is now.

personal goal || Above all, Erin seeks a cure for his family's curse. His daughter means the world to him, and he wants nothing more than for her to live a long, healthy, and happy life. Something she will not have if the curse activates

biography

defining act || Nine years ago, his wife told him she was pregnant and they got into a huge fight over whether she would get an abortion or not. It got extremely heated, both of them saying things they would later regret. It came to a screeching halt, though, when he mistakenly used duende on her. It was for just a brief moment but it scared the both of them deeply.

In the end, his wife did not end up getting an abortion, and while they now have a beautiful daughter that Erin loves so, so much, he sometimes can't help but wonder if they made a mistake.

brief bio || Erin was born to a long line of conjurers, of the purest pedigree, and as such, from a young age had a lot of expectations placed on his shoulders. Ultimately, he and his parents would come to a deal: if Erin would agree to marry a woman of their choosing, they would allow him to pursue whatever career he liked. He forgot about said deal, for close to a hundred years, until they finally did find him a suitable wife.

She was another conjurer, and they got along together alright. They were married a little over a year later. They had a complex relationship - it was more of a business arrangement, of sorts, but they did care about each other. And they sometimes had sex. Neither of them wanted kids though, for different reasons. Mainly because the Hatori family carried a blood curse, and should they have a child, they were at risk of inheriting it. So they were careful, for nearly sixty years.

And then one night they got really drunk, and they weren't so careful, and nine months later, Winona Hatori was born.

extra

-- He and his family live in Toronto, Canada.

-- He specializes in several different types of therapy, including traditional talk therapy, behavioral therapy, and hypnotherapy.

-- His daughter, Winona, or 'Winnie', is eight years old and looks remarkably like him. Takes after her mother in personality, though.

-- The Hatori family curse is rarely spoken about, partially due to the nature of the curse. Members of the Hatori family, should they inherit it, can be cursed to be forgotten. It begins with strangers, once activated, and progresses to the people that know them. As soon as someone sees them, they are forgotten. Then those that meet them, forget them. Then friends, then finally family.

-- After that, it's impossible to know what has happened to them. They are erased from photographs, from most ledgers, the things they own disappear or are assumed to be someone else's. The only record that they ever existed, is their birth certificate. It often skips generations, usually only affects one family member at a time and activates some time before they come of age.

-- While Winona's curse has yet to activate, it's assumed that at some point it will. It's been three generations since the last forgetting, and they would have to be unimaginably lucky if she were to escape it.

-- No one has found a way to remove the curse yet, not for lack of trying. Erin still holds out hope, however.

 

[MiharuAya]

The Good Doctor​

​

Name
Kiran Albertine

Element
Water

Age
78

Specialization
Healing Hands, Aegis, Fracture

Gender
Male

Race
Human Enchanted

Occupation
Doctor

Magic Type
Devine Abjuration

Apperance

Hair: Blonde​

Eye: Blue​

Height: 5' 6"​

Weight: 125lbs​

Build: Slender, Lean, Petite​

Complexion: Pale, Smooth, Aglow​

Distinguishing Marks: He has a small mole below his left eye.​

Tattoos: None​

Piercings: Both earlobes are pierced.​

​

Personality

​

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Altruistic, Thoughtful, Curious, Diligent, Determined, Energetic, Insecure, Secretive, Brilliant, Self-sacrificing, Charismatic​

​

Strengths:​

Loyal, Passionate, Empathetic​

​

Weaknesses:​

Suspicious, Reserved, Opinionated, Discontented​

​

Motivation: To help people, especially those who society looks down on or who are too weak to help themselves.​

​

Personal Goal: To end the discrimination against certain species and half breeds such as Enchanted's.​

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Background

​

Defining Act: When Kiran was a child, many of the Conjurers that he knew often looked down on him. Many would make comments about his existence being disgusting, or ignore his presence entirely. This came to a head when he had asked to play with some kids, and the Conjurers attacked him.​

​

Biography: Kiran was born to an Awoken mother, and Conjurer father. To this day, he is unaware of who his father is, and his mother refuses to speak about him. She would often get visibly upset when he would ask about his father, and eventually, he stopped. It has just been himself and his mother for his entire life.​

​

Even as a child before he truly understood what he was, Kiran has never felt like he fit in. He was able to perform special magic, unlike his Plainspoken friends. However, he never fit in amongst the Conjurers either. He became aware of the general dislike of Enchanted at an early age, watching how his mother was mistreated and the comments that many would make about him. Although she always told him to ignore them, it affected him greatly.​

​

As he got older, he grew to reciprocate the loathing that Conjurers felt towards him. He became determined to change the antiquated thinking so that others wouldn't have to endure what he did. Kiran devoted himself to his studies, learning medicine in the plainspoken world and healing magic in the awoken world.​

​

​

 

[KatSea]

WEIGHT/HEIGHT || 5'8, 150lbs
IDENTIFYING MARKS || Harlow has a multitude of scars on her body, many scrapes and dents that range from her midsection to her back. There is a thin white scar that goes across her bottom lip. She attunes these scars to being "fish bait".

FULL NAME || Harlow Blackwater
AGE || 205
RACE/SUBCLASS || For example : Merkind/Melusine
MAGIC TYPE/SCHOOL || Ritual
SPELL SPECIALIZATIONS || Elemental/Water
ELEMENT CONNECTION || Water

OCCUPATION || Local Cryptid/Sailing Instructor

PERSONALITY TRAITS ||

• Laid back - Harlow goes with the flow. If plans suddenly change or things don't quite go from a to b, she improvises. She doesn't tend to get upset too easily and finds it easier to just smile and nod. She'll have other ways to get what she wants. She'll laugh whilst others are terrified and shrug off the feeling of doom in times of danger. It's all peachy keen, man.
• Jokester - Harlow loves a good laugh. Her good nature clashes with her tendency to cause trouble. Never enough to hurt anyone, but she enjoys the expression of irritation. She's an avid fan of cracking jokes at an inappropriate time, often using humor to mask her own worry. Endorphins are the cure to everything, after all.
• Free Spirit - Harlow's main focus is exploring and enjoyment of the nature around her. She doesn't enjoy being in the same spot for too long and is rather sporadic when it comes to settling down. She finds something to love in everything she sees and basks in seeing and learning new things.
• Loyal - Harlow does not get attached to many, but when she does she is there for as long as she can stand. She's typically seen as an aunt or a maternal figure, and is very protective of those she cares about. Activities she'd normally participate in she'd find absolutely horrific for someone else. Although, she is more than happy to bring kids to horror movies years before they are ready...

STRENGTHS ||

• Intelligent - Despite keeping a somewhat aloof exterior, Harlow is incredibly smart. She's spent her years alive observing and learning. She's practiced her crafts, which include a myriad of arts, physical activity, and music practices. Book smarts may not be as much of her thing, but she's certainly skimmed through different topics and has enjoyed learning.
• Composed - Her laid back personality keeps her calm under pressure and can allow her to think through the stress. She's able to articulate herself in a discussion, even if she's wrong, she'll have the composure to act as if she were in the right.
• Deceptive - Harlow doesn't have to be deceptive often. However, she's able to fib with a straight face if need be. This often can backfire, as sarcastic quips can and will be taken for total truths.

WEAKNESSES ||

• Troublemaker: Harlow's tricks will often times lead to her own harm or to potential risks. She doesn't think through all the consequences before she does what she does and has gotten the wrong people angry at her before.
• Blunt: While she may be deceptive to save her own skin, if she has an opinion, she will blatantly express it. She won't sugar coat to save face.
• Stubborn: Harlow considers her intellect to be upmost and when she takes hold of an opinion, she will hold onto it firmly. It'll take a lot of convincing and pleading to get her to move even an inch.
• Reserved: Harlow will work or communicate with people if required. However she's not one to allow herself to get attached easily. She'll be quiet and attentive, observing cautiously before opening up.

MOTIVATION || Harlow's alive for a good time. She's motivated by her nieces, to give them a good life as well. She wants to make sure that they get just as much enjoyment from being alive as she does. She enjoys having her name known as well in her community and strives to keep it that way, as she has done now for decades.

PERSONAL GOAL || Harlow wants to take care of her nieces and make sure that they are well off. She's given up on locating her sisters years ago, and is now devoted to their children. She wants to make sure they have a secure and safe future.

DEFINING ACT || Roughly fifty years ago, Harlow received a nasty scar around her waist. Her home, a lake residing by a quiet town, had been visited by a group of game hunters looking for a major catch. In an effort to keep her nieces mere tadpoles, she encouraged them to hide and she'd handle the hunters. In an attempt to overturn their boat, she was caught in one of their nets. She was able to escape, but suffered from extensive rope burns and scars. After this event, she took it upon herself to make sure that her nieces never suffered the same. She's also gained a serious appreciation for life afterwards, and a considerable hatred for fishermen.

BRIEF BIO || Harlow drifted into the lives of a small Melusine settlement. Consisting of two sisters, Niome and Eveline, the elder creatures found the young merkind alone on the shore. The sisters considered letting her drift off the next embankment, but realizing the child's unlikely chances of survival and knowing that she had drifted for potential miles, they took her under their wings. Harlow grew up considering the sisters her own family and looked up to them. She would often go to the mainland with them too explore the growing town besides them. Years passed and as they family grew older, Niome and Eveline would consistently find men to lure under their charms. Before Harlow could begin to process what was happening, she had four nieces. Harlow fell in love with the little tadpoles, and would spend her time coddling them and being the affectionate bad influence.

Niome and Eveline went ashore during a rainy summer morning in the 60's. The sisters enjoyed spending time with young tourists during this time and experimenting with "groovy" substances. Harlow offered to spend time with her nieces while her sisters enjoyed themselves. At the end of the summer of love, Niome and Eveline did not return. So Harlow waited. And waited. Waited so long that the young tadpoles could begin to explore the mainland themselves. Her sisters failed to return. She searched to no end and figured that they could have had enough of their former life. Internally Harlow believes this theory to be highly unlikely.

To fill the hollow feeling in her chest, Harlow would begin to mess with the tourists. Overturning boats, pulling on the legs of unsuspecting swimmers, among a variety of things. She gained a popularity within the town as a Lochness monster like cryptid. She got her nieces to assist, and Harlow has offered her services as a boat guide and instructor to further help the family's ploy.

OTHER || Harlow and her nieces collect a variety of items from tourists. These range from necklaces to switchblades. Harlow's personal favorite is a keychain with a plastic panda bear on it. Harlow enjoys using her magic as well, but seldom uses it and has gotten rather rusty.

 

[Ariel]

APPEARANCE ||

WEIGHT/HEIGHT || 120 lbs / 5'2"
IDENTIFYING MARKS || Lots of ink, just about everywhere.

FULL NAME || Medb Catriona Aislin MacNeil
AGE || 22
RACE/SUBCLASS || Human/Awoken
MAGIC TYPE/SCHOOL || Arcane/Evocation
SPELL SPECIALIZATIONS || Eidolon, Summon, Destructive Force
ELEMENT CONNECTION || Air

OCCUPATION || Artist/Graphic designer

PERSONALITY TRAITS ||
Headstrong - Medb has opinions. So does everyone else. The difference is, she's right.
Perfectionist - It's not about getting it perfect. It just has to be right. You have to have some standards. Otherwise why bother?
Generous - She may not have much, but you're welcome to it.
Sharp-tongued - Medb is quick of wit and sharp of tongue. It's hilarious when she's slagging off somebody else. Not so much when she's doing it to you.

STRENGTHS ||
Iron will - Medb doesn't back down easily. She doesn't get intimidated. If anything she finds it funny when people try to flex on her. What, is she supposed to be impressed?
Taste - Medb has an impeccable sense of aesthetics. Whatever she does, it's done with style and grace.
Empathetic - Medb has a strong sense of what's right and wrong, and she unerringly notices the harm that's done to those who have the least voice or power.

WEAKNESSES ||
Impatient - Medb has no time for fools or other wastes of time. She wants to get things going, straight away.
Physically frail - While she's not particularly weak as Plainspoken go, she's also a quite petite human being, and that means she's about as physically tough as a potato farl in comparison to some of the bigger folk out there.
Vindictive - Medb doesn't forget a thing, neither a kindness nor a slight. She'll pay you back too, three times over.
Anxiety - For all her moral certitude, Medb is sometimes consumed by crippling anxiety. She can be terribly insecure, and she feels deep down that she can't measure up to what she ought to be doing.

MOTIVATION || There's so much wrong with the world, where do we even begin? From what's right in front of us.

PERSONAL GOAL || To do whatever she can to make the world a little safer, a little fairer, a little bit better place for the weans.

DEFINING ACT || When she broke off with her first love because he was Protestant and her family wouldn't have any of it.

BRIEF BIO || Medb's Irish, in case you didn't realise. Northern Ireland, specifically Armagh. She grew up almost in the shadow of Eamhain Mhacha, and hearing all the old tales, the wise tales, the tales that the priests and the nuns didn't want you hearing, but that they knew in their heart of hearts were true. She came from a long line of wise women, too, and her mother whispered secrets to her of the long cold winter nights.
Which is why it broke her heart when Ma made her break things off with Donny, the boy from three streets down. He was a lovely lad, but his family were Proddies, y'see. It'd never work, it went against all that was right and good.
It broke her heart, but the magic mended it.
After all that, Medb ran away from home. She ran off to Eamhain Mhacha, where she wept the tears of Dierdre and keened the rage of Neasa and vaunted the pride of old Queen Medb herself, the warrior queen she'd been named for, who'd built this pile for all men to know for all ages hence that she was more than their equal. And happen that the women heard, across the seas of time; happen that a mad unhappy colleen ranting in a place of power woke something up from its ancient slumber; happen that her tears watered a seed to grow in her breast.
But Medb came home that night, bedraggled but with a gleam in her eye, and even her da and her brothers knew better than to cross her when she turned that light on them.
So it was that Medb took what she knew, and she applied to the Academy, and she went off far across the seas to seek her own way. And that she did. Her folk were horrified when she sent them pictures of herself with a tattoo - and another, and another. It was really the least of what (and who) she was doing, but she was marking herself off as her own person. She'd never betray her heart again, nor live with regrets.
Funny though - last time she visited home, she met up with Donny again, but she couldn't for the life of her recall what she'd seen in him. He was so small of soul, dull and blinkered. Nothing to do with being a Protestant, but everything to do with being mediocre. Anyway they were over each other, and it was a relief when they said goodbye.
She's made up with her family now, even though they still don't approve of the tenth they know of what she's doing.

OTHER || Spirit Spear - Gáe Buidhe - A glowing yellow spear that Medb can cast from her hand, inflicting wounds that weep and cannot be healed by magical means, even on supernatural and noncorporeal beings.