Photobucket isn't agreeing with me tonight, so I'll have to attach the pictures later, but these are some examples of what I'm looking for in terms of a character sheet from any of the classes.
(ABYSSIAN: Applying for an Abyssian gives you the distinct advantage of writing your sheet vaguely. Not much is known about your character except from eye witness accounts, so you only have to reveal what you want. As this is the case, many Abyssians are only known by nicknames or titles, rather than their actual name. The only caveat is that as GM I DO need to know the entire extent of their powers or pertinent secrets, which you can send me via PM.)
Apple Mary, the Sour Girl[/b]
Picture or Description:
Age: Difficult to Determine. Within her 20s.
Abilities: Apple Mary's unique constitution grants her freakish physical strength and endurance. Unable to feel pain, she is oblivious to damage and must be rendered unconcious or incapacitated to halt her. Contact (even through clothing and armor) with others can allow her to cause the victim to suffer excruciating agony. This lasts only so long as the contact remains.
Tragic Flaw: Highly toxic, she is forced to remain within her bodysuit, lest her poison spread through the air. She fills with the venom periodically, and must at intervals discharge it. Mystical in nature, it is her curse that she must inject it into a living creature, lest her own ability to feel her agony returns. It is rumored the more reluctant she is to infect a victim, the greater the relief, animals and the wicked offering little sustenance while the truly innocent serving to sate the curse substantially longer. It is rare any victim survives.
Treasured Item: A waxen cork tied around her neck like a pendant
Weapons of Note: A hand to hand combatant, her bodysuit is heavily armored, allowing her to parry and block weapons with her bracers. When she wishes to avoid combat, she is said to employ the use of a mystical sonic device that employs cacophonic torture on anyone who gets too close to her.
History: Nothing is known of her prior to her arrival within the ranks of the Abyssians. She speaks with a distinctly Rowian accent and has shown an extensive knowledge of many current dealers and their wares within the City of Steel, marking her as a soul that only recently departed.
First documented by Bristol at the Battle of Gaspard, she gained the nickname Apple Mary when she was seen to uproot an apple tree and utilized it as a melee weapon. Not well versed in the art of combat, she pressed her strength advantage and insensativity to attacks to maximum effect, earning her place as one of the five Harbingers of Abyss.
It is believed that she is the one who is responsible for the death of the city senate, her venomous nature allowing her to simply unmask and sit amongst the Senators and citygoers who had scurried to the Grand Hall for safety, breathing out agony and death.
Personality: Direct. Apple Mary has the unsettling bearing of someone who has seen too much and despite the odds lived to tell the tale. Given what is known of her death, months of systematic torture have "shuffled her deck" as Devereaux is keen to say. As with most Abyssians, she has unfinished business in this world and woe to the man or beast that stands in her way.
Reluctant to feed her curse at first, she has grown cold to the pangs of morality that once made her kill sparingly. Until her work is done, she wishes to remain blessedly numb, and if the world must feel her pain, then so be it.
(DRAGON: This example belongs to Phantasmatical (hopefully with permission o_o;)from the previous Dragon Kin game and represents what I'm looking for from a Dragon of the Order. There's a lot of leeway for Dragons because I'd like some interesting and unique beasties. They could have been born in Vechtland and know nothing of the outside world, or they could be vengeful survivors of the Scourge furious at humanity for breaking the truce, or even elders who have seen this time of reconciliation as only a matter of time.)
Ehroj A.K.A. Ehr'gurthran'j[/b]
Species: Brown (Earth) Dragon
Age: 4,173 (not that he knows)
Ehroj fires liquid rather than gas to create fire. This results in a much reduced range, but an effect similar to a flamethrower in that it is exceptionally difficult to get the fire to go out, as it burns like an oil fire. It tends to coat the inside of his mouth, leaving his craggy teeth burning shortly after use. This is normally not painful, but if used too many times in succession it can hurt him.
Fire Ball To use this ability, Ehroj essentially holds the liquid in his mouth before spitting it in a gob at the enemy. Short range, but the projectile will melt through just about anything, including materials ordinary fire could not penetrate such as stone and metal, and will splash in a good twenty-five foot radius.
Ehroj’s blood is highly caustic when it first leaves his body. If his hide is somehow punctured, any blood that might hit the offending enemy sticks like tar. His wounds bleed slowly, with a consistency not so unlike molasses. While it is damaging at first, his blood nourishes when it hits the ground, causing new life to begin to grow on the spot within half a day.
Ehroj is possessed of a limited ability to heal others. He can do little to help with small injuries other than attempt to remove some of the pain, but if an injury is life-threatening, he can intervene, damaging his own body in order to bring someone from the brink of death. He cannot use this ability on other dragons unless they are much weaker than he is. His healing ability is somewhat easier to use on his bonded human, but still limited to severe wounds.
Endurance In human form, Ehroj is not faster than any other fit human (though his long strides help in that regard). He does have incredible endurance to make up for it, however, allowing him to run for hours if need be - which over time usually makes up for any lack of speed.
Ehroj, like all dragons, greatly appreciates the beauty of precious metals. He is somewhat odd however, in that he prefers gemstones (or even rare rock formations) to gold, and his senses are attuned accordingly.
Sharp Senses Ehroj has a limited sense of touch over much of his body, and his eyesight at a distance (over 40' or so) is poor - but up close he may as well be a microscope, so detailed is his vision. He has passable night vision (up close at least), but can “see” using a sort of echolocation, which can be felt by others when he uses it.
It takes Ehroj rather a long time to speak, and so when he has something lengthy to say, he tends to switch to telepathy. His telepathy, if he is not careful, can seem to vibrate in the brain like a rockfall, causing dizziness.
Tremor Ehroj can cause earthquakes ranging from the localized to the widespread, though the larger the radius, the lesser the effect. The maximum range at which his ability is powerful enough to, say, knock someone over is half a mile radius, and he must be in contact with the ground to use it. He can also send lower-intensity waves through the ground well over 100 miles for communication.
Ehroj is a creature of the very bones of the earth: the stones, rocks, gems, ore, etc that make up the solid mass that all other life exists upon and around. He exerts power over these things, parting rock like water, sculpting stone, and the like. This applies to ordinary dirt and sand as well, though he prefers the feel of more solid rock. If he desires, he can absorb these things into himself, making himself more like the terrain, and in so doing can become nearly invisible as long as he does not move. Indeed, he tends to do this subconsciously when he is at rest, and sometimes he remains still long enough that plants grow upon him.
Earthen Body Ehroj can weather almost any physical assault, including blasts of fire, ice, and the like (though he might not be happy about it). His skin, upon closer inspection, is actually made of billions of closely-spaced stones (see number IV), dusty and dull with the years. These provide near-impenetrable protection against weapons; the only mundane thing that could damage him reliably are siege weapons like particularly large ballistae. See weaknesses.
Weakness: He is not equipped to deal overly well with magical assaults, and powerful sonic effects in particular are downright crippling to him. Ehroj is also fairly slow. A good analogy would be this: Ehroj is to a faster dragon as an elephant is to a horse. Explosive in power, enduring at medium speeds, and devastatingly lethal up close, but quite possible to outrun and out-maneuver.
Treasure: Ehroj's body is made up of treasure, in a sense. He likes to take particularly prized gemstones or the odd nugget of metal and press them into his hide, sometimes replacing his own rocky scales with the glimmering prizes. These seem to go away over time, though they never fall out – in fact his body simply absorbs them over time.
Jaws His teeth are not particularly sharp, but as a creature that eats trees, stone, and metal more than meat, his jaws are more than powerful enough to crush just about anything through sheer force. Like a crocodile, this is closing pressure, not opening strength.
Claws His claws are mostly blunt (dewclaws excepted), designed for burrowing through solid stone, but a kick or swipe can easily uproot a tree and send it flying.
Tail Arguably Ehroj's most deadly weapon is his tail. Heavy and covered with rocky spikes, a hit from his tail can demolish buildings in a single swipe, and would utterly pulverize the skeleton of just about any creature unfortunate enough to get in its way. Easily his deadliest weapon.
Horns While certainly fearsome, Ehroj's horns are mostly designed for show and to protect his neck and shoulder blades while digging. However, he has been known to lower his head and charge at an enemy at times, and this charge can shatter the ribs of another dragon.
Wings His wings are heavy things, and Ehroj prefers to physically batter enemies with his wings over buffeting them with gusts of air, simply in the name of conserving energy. If surrounded, he can sweep his wings along the ground. This is exceptionally good for destroying entire battalions of human footsoldiers, cavalry, and the like in one or two hits.
Description: See image. Basic dimensions: Over two-hundred feet long from tip of nose to tip of tail, most of that length being in the body and tail. ~250' wingspan. ~60' tall at the shoulder, and ~75' tall at the head. Over 200 tons in weight. The huge crystals on his back can be absorbed partway back into his body; they serve little use but to protect someone sitting upon his back (in fact, Ehroj is probably one of the most comfortable dragons to “ride” on, all things considered; the space of his shoulder blades is relatively flat overall, with the crystals preventing much air from buffeting anyone sitting behind his neck). The crystals provide an accurate gauge of his energy level, going from light and partly transparent to dull and solid-looking as he tires. This is echoed in the smaller crystals on his head, and the myriad other, much smaller crystals dotted across his body, meaning that his entire color darkens when he is tired, injured, or the like.
Ehroj’s sheer weight makes him ungainly in the air. He prefers being in contact with the ground to flying (or “swimming” through the earth, given the option). His wings are huge and powerful, but nonetheless are barely enough to get him off the ground, and he cannot fly from a standing start; he must build up momentum by running – and as one might imagine, a dragon the size and weight of Ehroj needs quite a bit of room to get up to running speed. When he does, it shakes the ground. In the air there are few who are able to fly with as little effort as he, for he takes advantage of each and every alteration in air current to expend as little energy as possible. Indeed, his wings can lock partially into place over long flights, further reducing his energy consumption. He suffers for this with average speed at best and poor maneuverability. Landing can be something of a spectacle; the vibration can be felt in the ground quite a ways when he does make a landing – landing on any unstable surface is impossible.
While he wears the form of a human, it is clear that he is something more; whether due to his years or his connection to the earth, he simply does not seem mundane. In his human form, Ehroj is prodigiously tall, passing seven feet by a couple of inches. He has a powerful build that is athletic but not like that of a bodybuilder - for all his strength, he is not musclebound. His hair is not quite shoulder-length, a deep freshly-tilled-earth tone that combines well with his tanned skin. His eyes are a startling shade of amber, matching his draconic form perfectly, and have an unnervingly intense stare. In human form his main strengths are his size, strength, endurance, and ability to take a great deal of physical punishment. He is not particularly agile, but the human form feels so much lighter to him that he is able to move with ease that is surprising at times. He has never worn armor nor lifted a weapon before, but is devastating in hand-to-hand combat because he is already used to using every piece of his body as a weapon, and as a human there are fewer limbs to keep track of. Of course, wrestling someone to the ground is not always the best idea - for example when their friend is standing nearby with a weapon.
Personality: Ehroj embodies, both literally and figuratively, the earth. He is slow to anger, slow to act, slow to make decisions, and has all the patience of a mountain. When he does decide to do something, little to nothing can stop him in his course, whether he chooses to act explosively (as a volcano or earthquake) or in a more steady manner (like a lava flow or continental shift). Ehroj can seem quite lazy to some, spending a great deal of his time seemingly asleep – though he never truly sleeps in the conventional sense. Given absolutely nothing to do, he will settle into one position and stay there for hours, days, or even weeks or months – and has been known to dally even longer than that. It is hard to tell whether he is napping or merely contemplative, as his eyes may be shut or open either way, and his stony expression (pardon the pun) generally does not change much. He speaks his mind when asked to do so, but generally is not particularly gregarious, preferring to observe others. He has a strong sense of logic, and is not afraid to make decisions that others might find morally difficult and act upon them. Ehroj never lies intentionally; if he does lie it is because he has been given false information in the first place and is not aware of it. He chooses his words carefully, tending toward being the mediator in a conversation. He is quite intelligent, though it is not uncommon for others to be bereft of the patience necessary to let him think something through in his own methodical way from beginning to end.
Despite his rough sense of right and wrong (rough in human terms, that is), Ehroj is still a force of nature more than anything else. Even moreso than many others of his kind, when he is moved to violent action the collateral damage tends to be huge. True, the sky may not rain with ash nor the clouds spit prongs of lightning, but the aftermath is no less impressive. Cities crumble to rubble, great trees are ripped from their roots, rock shelves are shaved off their home mountain, rockslides divert rivers and alter entire ecosystems. He can bend his mind toward tactics, and when he takes the time to think things through the results are often surprising, but he is more inclined to be reactive, and thus to either do very little or spring explosively into action, with little middle ground. When paired with a human, his understanding of morality is improved, though still unaffected by traditional chivalric beliefs, and thus still somewhat questionable by human standards. Overall his sense of judgment can be described thus: tough, but fair. A human’s mindset can also help to focus some of his destructiveness when he is prompted to fight, thus reducing the collateral damage considerably.
History: Ehroj has no memory of being born, per se. He has simply existed for as long as he can remember. "When" is a word he barely understands, for his sense of time is drawn out. He learned of the accepted calendar of men only once he broke through the surface of the volcanic mountain he first recalls living in, finding the remains of a city that had been nearly obliterated by his stirrings, which had caused the volcano to erupt. Needless to say the people feared him, and did their best to drive him off. He bore their assault for a time, letting them break their weapons upon him (at the time he was not much larger than a draft horse), but eventually his patience reached its end, and in an explosive rage he slaughtered every human he saw in the wrecked city. When he left, experiencing flight for the first time utterly by accident as a rock face gave way beneath him, he left behind him utter ruin and a number of survivors that could be counted on two hands.
Ehroj was a force of nature, existing in the world in his own way. He was explosively lethal at times, gentle at others, and more often than either he was simply still, resembling nothing so much as a boulder or knoll – and later a hill or rockslide. Sometimes he would remain in place for so long that moss and other clinging plants would grow upon him, and once a human family built their home right underneath his head, nestling the house between his motionless forelegs. This family intrigued him. He watched them for three generations as they were born, grew up, and died. At no point did they believe they were living anywhere but under an outcropping of rock, so when the rock suddenly moved, taking on the shape of a living thing and utterly obliterating their house along with it, they were understandably terrified - all but the youngest. She alone was brave, calling to him in her strange language. Her voice was soothing to him, and he soon settled down again, listening to her.
She spoke to him every day. The family rebuilt their house slightly apart from his body, but she was never far from him. When she approached one day and began to climb upon him, he scarcely reacted at all. She draped flowers upon him and drew on his rocky body with clay mixed with plant dye, she played games with other children upon him, and on occasion he would lower his head and raise it again, carrying a whole gaggle of children on the many rocky spikes above his neck. The girl grew larger over time, and eventually she went away. He waited a long time for her. Her father talked to him, but it was not nearly as soothing – Ehroj could not ask where the girl went, for he had no concept of language. It took a very long time, but his patience reached its end. Eventually he decided to go find her, and so he did. He had become so entrenched in the surrounding area that his act of leaving caused a sizeable earthquake, destroying many of the buildings in the little hamlet that had sprung up around him, but he did not notice. He searched for the girl for over a year, and when he found her it was in the arcane library of a city larger than any he had ever seen. It hummed with magic, and for the first time Ehroj was afraid. He could sense that the girl was there - for he knew her scent - but he was driven back by the mages of the city, who fought him as he destroyed much of the northern part of the bustling town, quite without realizing the chaos he was causing.
Eventually, the girl came to him. She was a mage now, but she did not attack him. She spoke to him, soothingly, and gestured for him to lower his head to her as he used to do. When he did, she lifted a blade to her arm, cutting it and allowing the blood to drip onto his teeth. The bond that formed between them was intense, different from anything he had known, and he shook his head to clear it as the human language transformed, suddenly full of meaning. When he did, he felt a great twisting, and for the first time he stared out of the eyes of a human rather than a dragon.
He lived with her for the remainder of her life, siring a single child with a presence like an earthquake. The boy grew to become a legendary leader of men, but could not reveal who or what his father was. When the woman (whose name has lost meaning to Ehroj, though her memory is perfectly clear) died, Ehroj shredded his human form. Crumbling with grief, he once again became a natural disaster, indiscriminate in his destruction, until the day came when the humans bound him with magic and chains and locked him deep below the great mountain. For a century he raged against his bonds, then finally fell into a deep hibernation, his rage utterly spent, such that the guardians themselves almost forgot him. A strange scent has reached him in his dreams; familiar in a way, and yet not. He has begun to awaken, but will not truly do so until his destined kin finds him.
(Dragon Kin: Another example from the previous Dragon Kin, I used my own because I wouldn't have to ask permission to post it. *laugh* Kin abilities may have an "ambient" effect if you wish, and/or an actual invoked effect. Like in the example, Milly's natural strength and durability is bolstered by her telekinetic abilities at all times, while more impressive effects require an expenditure of will and power. These abilities are extremely taxing, so utilizing them too much too quickly will wear your characters out. Play accordingly.)
Picture or Description:
Species: Dragon Kin
Abilities: A powerful telekinetic, Millicent does not directly control the ability. Most commonly applied in combat, the small framed woman is noted as being supernaturally strong, her subconcious mind bolstering her strength by virtue of her gift. The telekinetic force is most effectively brought to bear by her "sister" however. Though not affiliated with the Order officially due to her "unclean" years as a prostitute, Millicent possesses extensive combat training from a great many Sword Maidens of the Order. Adept in hand to hand combat and numerous styles of swordplay, she is noted for her viciously feral tendancies. She also has some basic knowledge of herbology, though she rarely relies upon it. A blunt object, she typically favors the direct approach, an unstoppable object guided by her righteous fury.
Tragic Flaw: Milly is considered by many to be insane. To be entirely frank, she is mentally divergent, prone to hallucinations and has questionable mental stability to say the least. That said, she is not delusional and is aware of her condition.
Treasured Item: Mr. Hopps, Millicent's Childhood Bunny Toy
Weapons of Note: Millicent favors the use of two handed bastard swords, and is noted for going through them rather quickly. Less concerned with the quality of the blade so much as its weight, she most often utilizes them as they were bludgeoning weapons. She also utilizes her gauntlets for defensive and offensive applications, the knuckle dusters fitted with tempered steel spikes. She uses a grapple and chain occasionally as a weapon, though most frequently it is utilized for its intended purpose.
History: A child of Row, Millicent was born as the sixth daughter in a five child household. With no male heir and little interest in another daughter, her father considered her more an obligation to be fed and clothed than a daughter to be loved. The family name of Stokes was legendary for one thing amongst the smiths of Row, and that was ornamentation. No great forger of weapons and armor himself, her father was noted instead for his fine gold inlay and keen eye for detail as he etched epic battles across the canvas of the finest armor and blade. He was less adept at planting a male seed in the belly of his wife, a canker sore that had grown ever more troublesome to him with each child.
A man troubled by the details of life more than its simple pleasures, he needed a son to carry on the name. And this relegated Millicent into just another detail of his day that had to be dealt with. Her next sister, Margolynn was two years her elder, and had suffered much the same fate as they grew. With no money for dowry or interest beyond meeting his obligation to keep the youngest girls alive, they lived in the outskirts of the Stokes family vision. Just a couple more mouths to feed, they were a burden best ignored.
And so, ignored by the family and even the township, the two became each others world. They would giggle at all hours of the day, taking care to do so quietly in the hopes they would not disturb anyone or remind their father of their existence. Two against a hostile and uncaring world, it was when Millicent turned eight years of age and Margo ten, that things truly began to sour.
Their mother passed on, leaving the burden entirely in the lap of the father. Forced to take on the chore of sustaining his family only briefly, it was scarcely a few weeks before he was again wed. A woman as heartless as she was lovely, his new bride was quick to make changes within the Stokes household. No fool, she knew that fewer mouths to feed meant more pocket money for the rest, and so... she formed a plan.
Millicent began to feel ill, her appetite ever dwindling. This was true of all of the youngest, but it was Margolynn's illness that concerned Milly the most. Ever the frail one, Margolynn was the first to succumb to the mysterious illness that had afflicted the youngest amongst the Stokes household. It was Millicent who discovered the secret of the so called Stokes curse, when the family cat died from consuming the girl's frequently uneaten meals.
Alshline, a common local plant that their step mother had been grinding into their food.
She confronted her new mother with this knowledge, only to be thrown back against the wall of her father's workshop. A mere child of eight, weakened by weeks of poisoned meals and bereaved over the death of her only companion, she was no match for an adult. Struck about the head by a tinkerer's hammer, she fell unconscious to the ground. Her step mother claimed that she had fallen in her weakened state and injured herself mortally. And so it seemed when they sent for the apothecary.
Millicent Stokes stopped breathing in the middle of her examination. No tears were shed.
Hauled away in the death cart for a pyre, the two sisters road their last few minutes on earth together. Or so it would have been but for the screams when they threw Millicent upon the flames. Still alive, she rolled free, her back horribly burned by the pyre, her lungs had begun working again with a vengeance. With her sheltered childhood and her addled mind sluggish due to her head trauma, there were none who knew precisely which home she had come from. The plague was rampant in the lands and the dead numerous.
When the task of retracing their steps proved impossible, it was considered the proper and humane thing to put her up for adoption. It was also the most financially rewarding to the Row orphanage. After months of healing, she was taken in by a whore house in Vale, its mistress having a keen eye for beauty in an flower that had not yet blossomed. But there was more beneath the surface than even the Madam could see. The blood of kings and beasts flowed through her veins... and though it could not heal her wounds, it certainly tried.
One morning, hours before she was due to perform her chores, she awakened to Margolynn sitting at the foot of her bed. Her sister, dead for months, had miraculously come back to her! Depressingly it seemed she was the only one who could see her. Worse still, she began to see other things that simply could not be. Demons in the faces of the midnight callers. Shadows would caper and speak to her. And giant serpentine eyes would peer at her from outside the windows.
In short... she was going mad. There was an old saying, "If you were mad... would you know it?" In Millicent's case, the sad answer was a resounding, yes. A hard headed and stubborn young woman, she knew that what she was seeing were spectres of her damaged mind. And at the end of the day, she didn't entirely care. To some extent, her sister was returned.
It didn't matter that she was a figment of a broken mind. Well... it did matter, but it was the best solution to the aching hole that was left in Millicent's soul. Margolynn served as mentor and conscience to Millicent, whose viciousness grew on a daily basis. Strangely though, Millicent found through some fantastic trick of will, the spectre could move things. Though Margolynn had the tiny fingers of a ten year old, she could crush stone and rend steel at the behest of her "little" sister.
Millicent continued her life within the brothel, and as the years passed, her chores became ever more "adult". She learned much of the desires of men and had little interest in meeting them, beyond the money it provided. Not for the sake of greed did she grasp at gold, but for the sake of freedom. She could feel herself changing with the onset of puberty and not in ways that a mortal born should experience. Terrifyingly strong, she found that somehow she was much more powerful than a woman of so frail a form could possibly be. Unbeknownst to her, her latent telekinetic skills gave her a frightening strength, bolstering her own feeble physique with a power that was inhuman.
These revelations of her flesh, she shared with no one but her sister. Her poor dead sister. No matter how old Millicent grew, Margolynn remained ever youthful. Eternally ten years of age. Millicent tried to imagine what sort of woman her sister would have grown to be, but the image of her companion remained ever static. With time, she came to accept this, and so the years passed, with Millicent learning the skills of a courtesan, while keeping her inhumanity and madness hidden from her peers. When Millicent Stokes did at last succeed and purchase her freedom, there was only one thing that motivated her...
Life was not fair. It was never meant to be, perhaps. But she felt that despite that, if she could balance the books, and make good upon the imbalances that had ruined her life, then maybe it would make life worth living again. As a woman tainted, she could not be allowed to join the paladial order of sword maidens. But that did not mean individual knights would not teach her for money and... favors. It was during this time she discovered her affection for the fairer sex, catching the fancy of a number of the "Most Revered" knights within the order. Though her time between the sheets with these pious harlots was spent to achieve a greater goal, she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it. She always insisted Margolynn stay outside, though sometimes she thought the girl was peeking through the keyhole.
With her own natural abilities coupled with paladial training, she rapidly became one of the more dangerous trouble contractors of Vale, finding great satisfaction in the dispensation of justice as she saw it. But ever was her eye upon the city of Row. Though almost a decade had passed, she remembered still the corruption that had blossomed in her home. Her studies were not limited to the blade and sex. She became well versed in herbology as well, and as such, she hatched a plan that would see justice met.
She sent a tainted vessel of wine to the Stokes forge, knowing the greedy whore that had supplanted her mother would take it for her own. It would not kill... that would be far too great a mercy. No, the herbs she mixed with the fermented grape caused the flesh to burn, the bones to sizzle, and the muscles to tear. Not literally, of course. The damage was entirely to the nerves. It was not fatal. Not even harmful. Most diabolically though, it was not temporary. Word of her step mother's suicide some weeks later came as no great suprise to Millicent, though Margolynn refused to talk to her for a few days.
She would have prefered to crush the woman's skull, but Millicent wanted to remain dead to her family. They had shed no tears for her passing, and so she felt she owed them nothing. Not even pride in the accomplishments of the youngest Stokes girl. They had contributed nothing to her life but disdain. Feeling there was little left to life now that she had had her final revenge, it was Margo who suggested to her that perhaps they were not the only ones who needed justice. There was always imbalance in this chaotic world. To just right it in only their own lives was selfish. In this manner she began her career as a righteous blade for hire, working as an accountant of sins, ever trying to make things more fair in this cruel and unjust land.
Two against this hostile and uncaring world.
Personality: Righteous to a fault, she sees the world without any moral grey area. Psychologically damaged from her upbringing, she has grown into a fierce woman, her willpower and determination forged by years of abuse. She lacks her full measure of fear, empathy and compassion, instead seeking only to punish. Dangerous in battle, she does not readily tolerate the company of men in social situations either, finding it difficult to be comfortable around them.
That said, she has progressed to the point that she recognizes why she feels as she does, and is able to reign herself in up to a point. She is not naive in the ways of immorality, feeling that human's baser needs, though entirely natural, must be policed by those who are strong willed and beyond reproach. Thusly, she only resorts to lethal force when faced with the truly irredeemable. Most often she prefers permanent injury or crippling. She likes more than anything to prove a point to those she finds lacking, believing that only through such forced attrition will people become greater. Millicent seeks to teach more often than punish, though the two often seem to be too tangled together to separate.
To speak of her constant companion, Margolynn is not the ghost of her departed sister, but rather a hallucination that embodies much of Millicent's empathy and compassion. Brought about by her traumatic injuries (physical and psychological) as a coping device, Margolynn serves as Milly's conscience and confidant. Protective of her "big sister", Milly often takes Margolynn's council though she may not always agree entirely with it.
It is also Margolynn through which Milly most effectively utilizes her telekinetic powers. When called upon, Millicent's "sister" is a terrifying force to behold. Despite her nature as a mere figment of Millicent's fractured mind, the dragon kin's impressive telekinetic abilities lend a physical presence to her hallucinations. Though no one else is able to see Margolynn... they can certainly feel the "elder" Stokes sister, when she is called upon in battle.