Aramyllis Dae

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Aramyllis Dae
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Aramyllis Dae

Post by Aramyllis Dae » Sun Jun 15, 2008 4:49 pm

Name: Aramyllis Dae (ah-ra-MEE-lis DAY), or Myllis for short

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Gender: Female

Age: 21

Race: Half-human, quarter-elven, quarter-fae

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 125

Physical Description: Aramyllis' non-human heritage is not apparent in her outward appearance, being suggested only by the vague impression that her looks seem somehow exotic, although it is difficult to name in what way. She is long and lithe, with fair golden-toned skin and a slightly angled facial structure that falls just short of sharp. The precise hue of her barely slanted, almond-shaped eyes appears to change according to the light, varying from the deep shade of a pine forest at dusk to the brilliant sheen of illuminated emeralds. A mass of thick, nearly black curls sweeps down to just below her shoulders, covering ears that hint of points without appearing truly elven. Unless one stops to study her more closely or possesses an especially keen eye, the young woman easily passes for a full-blooded human.

Aramyllis tends to dress simply but somewhat femininely, preferring well-fitted leggings under supple boots and a short tunic, cinched with a plain belt. Additionally, she normally sports a leather cuff on her left lower arm, which serves to cover the uncanny eye-shaped birthmark on the inside of her wrist there.


Possessions: Among her meager belongings, Myllis carries an eight-inch dagger with a vampire bone hilt, along with its sheath which she wears strapped to her thigh. This once belonged to her biological father, whom she never met (see history). She also never goes without her pair of plain but sturdy throwing knives, one of which she keeps tucked into her boot, the other in the cuff on her left arm. Additionally, she bears a pan flute, a basic, fur-lined cloak, and around 50 bishani.


Strengths or Powers:
Proficiency with Dagger in Close Combat- Aramyllis carries her blade primarily for protection, and to warn off any who might think her an easy target. She has had enough lessons to know how to hold it properly, a few different strikes, and what vulnerable areas to attack. However, her successful use of a dagger depends on two key elements: surprise and speed. Due to her mixed elven and fae heritage, Myllis is relatively quick, but against a trained combatant who expects an attack, she would have little hope. In such situations, the dagger serves only as a means to distract her opponent long enough for her to flee.

Throwing Knives- Myllis is completely self-taught with these, mainly practicing against trees. Thus, while she could certainly hit a stationary person from within twenty feet, whether or not it would strike the exact body part for which she was aiming is questionable. Likewise, if a target is coming directly at her, there's a good chance she'll hit it somewhere; however, if moving laterally at much speed, it's unlikely that her throw will succeed.

Enhanced Exteroception / Sixth Sense- Since birth, Aramyllis has possessed the innate ability to perceive individuals around her in uncanny ways. On the most basic level, even closing her eyes, she could point out the location of any living organisms surrounding her within a radius of approximately 200 feet. If asked to explain how this was possible, she would likely compare it to one's ability to perceive what direction a sound was coming from, and whether the source was near or far away. If one then pointed out that there was no sound to hear, no tangible sensation to take in, Myllis would surely point out that there was something. Furthermore, she can decipher whether or not the source holds any capacity for magic of its own, due to the increased latent complexity and luminosity granted to subjects with any link to the astral plane.

This ability is further complicated by the racial ability of her fae heritage to perceive and manipulate the emotions given off by other creatures. Due to the dilution of this blood in Aramyllis, however, she can only sense a humanoid's sentiments if they are particularly strong, such as terror, jubilation, and hostility. Furthermore, the range of this sense is only 50 feet, and the farther the subject is, the stronger their fervor must be in order for Myllis to perceive it. This is still useful for her, though, as an individual with the intent to attack would likely give themselves away with their emotions before acting; on the other hand, a cold-blooded killer who performs such acts in a state of complete calm would clearly not alert her attention, nor would someone using projectiles from beyond this range.

Emotional Manipulation- As explained above (and in the racial profiles), many fae creatures also possess the ability to affect the sentiments of humans. While this is not a conscious talent in Aramyllis, it does occur occasionally. More specifically, due to her diluted blood, she can only alter emotions in susceptible individuals, and it is more a matter of persuasion than outright manipulation. For example, this might happen if Myllis (or someone else with whom Myllis feels closely connected) is attempting to charm or convince said individual through standard means such as conversation; simultaneously, Myllis might unconsciously sway the subject using more uncanny means, without realizing she is doing so.

Astral Patron- Also since birth, Aramyllis has been alternately plagued and favored by a strange, god-like figure from the astral plane, whom she affectionately calls Gabi'Rel (gah-BEE-rel). Perhaps this is a result of her mixed heritage, with her human blood suppressing the innate magical abilities granted by her elven and fae ancestry, until they manifest in the form of a deity that is more easily comprehended by a worldly rationale (see history for more information). Whatever the reason, in extreme and desperate situations, this figure has sometimes been known to step in and aid Myllis, usually by granting her a temporary ability, slowing time, or some equally unpredictable deed. Note that although he always acts through her, Aramyllis herself has no control over this being, and he has just as often left her helpless in critical circumstances rather than become involved. In such cases, she has often heard him laughing at the chaos or congratulating her on her narrow escape. Myllis knows better than to count on him unless the need is truly dire.

Affinity for Animals- Being of elven and fae heritage, animals tend to be less wary of Aramyllis than of humans, sometimes even venturing out to investigate or greet her. In some circumstances, with prolonged exposure, she may even be able to make a friend of such an animal. However, she has absolutely no control over them, and it seems unlikely (though not impossible) they would rush in to help her in dangerous situations.

Pan Flute- Aramyllis can play the pan flute. From lively tunes to soothing melodies, she can make the average person want to dance, or perhaps just go to sleep. Nothing magical about it, nor particularly practical.


Weaknesses:
Physical Frailty- First and foremost, Aramyllis herself is relatively weak, physically speaking. In nearly all situations of confrontation, if she cannot talk herself out of it, her best chance is to run. She knows this quite well, and is not ashamed of fleeing. However, even given this opportunity, while she is moderately fast, her endurance is not exceptional and she cannot keep up a good speed for long. It is not that she is out of shape, her muscles just tire easily, and she is not built for such exertion. Up against a trained warrior with practiced stamina, her only hope is to appease said warrior, or hide, and hide well.

Lack of Control Over Magic- Except for her sixth sense, which is constant, Myllis has nearly no conscious control over her magic. As a matter of fact, most of her powers, she does not even realize she has. In all, she has little ability to control her environment, except through her own wiles and charm.

Fear of Crowds- Although this is not a full-fledged phobia, Myllis does not do well when stuck in the middle of a throng of people. Depending on the emotional level of the crowd, this can range anywhere from discomfort (when everyone is going about their business normally) to barely contained panic if the people start thinking—and acting—more like a mob, i.e. in states of extreme fervor. For one, she just didn't grow up around multitudes of people, and she doesn't like them; humans are too unpredictable. More importantly, it's borderline painful to her sixth sense, which has to deal with all the presences as well as the emotional level.

Mild Detachment from Reality- Aramyllis has had some bizarre experiences, and moderate bumps along the way. Nothing to be too upset about, but having a strange astral being follow your life and commentate upon it can get to you after a while. What started as strange dreams turned into an uncanny voice giving her nonsense suggestions, laughing at her ironic remarks, and creating a lot more questions than he ever answered. Then she started seeing him sometimes, wavering on the edge of her vision like a speck floating in your eye, and eventually having full-fledged hallucinations of him. Were they hallucinations? No one else could see him, but still, he seemed so real, could affect her, play with time even! It didn't help that her human half-sister mocked her and insisted she was just slowly going crazy. Finally, Myllis began to completely black out, sometimes for days at a time; during these fits of unconsciousness, she'd sometimes sit watching her own body, wondering how to get back in, and other times would hold elaborate conversations with the figure, but in what seemed like a whole different realm. It was so hard to be sure, when her memory of those times was so foggy and jumbled. If only she be certain she wasn't just going out of her mind, that it was real, and not just all in her head.

Distaste for 'Normal' Humans- In Aramyllis' youth, her human family had—for at least a time—come to consider her an outcast and burden due to her race and her abilities. Fearing her magic, abilities she couldn't even control, they shunned her, blamed her for things that she had nothing to do with, feared her even. To fear one's own daughter! Like many humans native to Thar Shaddin, and Marn in particular, they believed magic to be the root of all evil, a plague that corrupted the earth. And Myllis had believed them, too! For years, she had hated herself even more than they hated her, felt ashamed for the taint she introduced to their lives, and felt grateful to them for not putting her out altogether. How naive she had been! How foolish!

Aramyllis knows better now. Although she has not dismissed the evil purposes for which magic can be used, she considers it only a tool, like so many other things in this world that humans point out as evil. In turn, the maltreatment from her family has left the young woman slightly bitter, and arrogant towards those who believe as they do—humans mostly, or half-elves who have lost track of the other side of their heritage. As for Myllis, she does not let the fact that she herself is half-human hinder her bias. To her family, her non-human half had been all that mattered. Why should she look at it any differently?


History:

It had all started with an affair. If only the woman would have been more prudent, rather than sleeping with some random man passing through the village. She didn't even have his race right, though she couldn't have known that until it was too late...

Aramyllis was born into a fully human family in Shim, four years younger than her only sister, and a welcome addition to a quaint home—safe here in Thar Shaddin from the corruption of any vile magics, they could instead devote their attention to more important things: the two beautiful little girls. The older was a spitting image of her mother, and the younger—well, the features were all wrong, but with hair and eyes the approximate shade of those of her supposed father, Joharin, it was good enough for him. Myllis was his little angel. That is, at least until around her seventh birthday, as it became increasingly clear that his precious little girl wasn't aging at quite the same rate as ever other human child. She was also having strange dreams, which she detailed every morning upon waking, featuring a laughing figure that watched her every move in delight—much like her own father watched her grow, proud and amused by her daily discoveries. Even more alarmingly, however, Aramyllis was babbling ever more frequently about certain things... Impossible things... Uncanny things.

She could tell what house her mother was in on the other side of the village when the woman had gone off to visit with some of the neighbors. Walking through the streets sometimes, Myllis would point to a building and prattle on about how that lady was in that room there, furious, probably at her husband, who was in that other room over there, feeling ashamed. At first, the girl’s dismissed it as a soaring imagination, the way she made up tales everywhere she went. It was her sister, Neria, who finally figured out the truth of the matter.

“Close your eyes,” she had instructed Myllis, “and cover them with your hand.” The younger had complied willingly, delighted to try this new game. As Neria snuck around as silently as possible with a couple of her friends, they made Myllis point out their location, over and over again. She never got it wrong.

“You're peeking!” Neria had shouted.

“No, I'm not!” the girl had insisted in turn, her tone defensive.

Protesting righteously against this clear example of cheating, the older sister had shouted back, “But you must be!”

So they had used a blindfold. And checked it three times. The results were the same.

The girls’ parents made them repeat the game while they watched. It was no game to them. It was an accusation of magic: not something to be joked about, but an evil force that would bring ruin to anything and everything it touched.

Seeing it, the mother had suddenly known, had realized something of the awful truth. She could clearly remember that day nearly eight years ago, when she had met a man traveling through the village on his way to Marn, with a mischievous glint in his eye and a bounce to his step like she had never seen before. He'd had those pitch black curls and emerald eyes, the same as Myllis, even if he had looked a normal human at the time. In any case, she'd been powerless to resist him; besides his good looks and charm, he'd had the uncanny seductive power of the fae on his side, though of course to the woman it all seemed natural enough. She was just another wife, a bit bored with her husband, that was all. Of course, it had never happened before, or again since, but still...

The mischievous man had said something afterwards, just before leaving, that she had dismissed at the time but that stuck in her mind now. "If you find yourself receiving quite a surprise down the road, think only of me, my dear." He had seemed to waver in her vision with the words, appearing—elfish, almost, but somehow even less humanoid than that. The woman had sworn the heat was getting to her.

Now, years later, the shock came as such a physical blow she thought she might be sick. Little Aramyllis, perceiving the emotion, had ripped off the blindfold and rushed towards her mother, arms outstretched, worry etched on her face—no, more than worry, the guileless despair of a child witnessing a parent in misery. "Mamma?"

Myllis felt it keenly as a wave of horror replaced her mother's stunned silence, followed by an even stronger surge of repulsion as the little girl drew nearer. "Don't touch me, you...!"

Stunned, confused, the girl drew back, shaking violently, tears welling up in her eyes. Her father looked equally dumbfounded, equally shaken, and scarcely handled it better.

"What's going on here?" he demanded, choking out the words as if he didn't want to hear the answer.

"Can't you see?!" his wife shrieked back, hands clawing at her hair in dread. "This magic... It lurks everywhere, spoils everything! Nothing is clean here! Can't you see?! It must have penetrated my womb, violated me, produced this abomination. Ooh, my poor body." She hugged her stomach as if physically injured, even now lying to cover her own guilt. To admit she had played a part in this abhorrence was unthinkable to her.

Aramyllis' father had taken Neria and left them both, his wife and formerly beloved daughter—he wanted nothing more to do with her, with either of them. They were contaminated, toxic.

Myllis' mother, bereft and seething in her own hatred—towards her own daughter, towards the world, towards anything she could direct it at—bided her time abusing the terrified girl, harrying her day and night for the pleasure of having an outlet. The two of them lived alone now in a one-room shack, destitute. After just over two years, the woman finally pulled herself far enough out of her wretched state to drag Myllis to Marn, determined to track down the cause of her anguish: that man. She did not even know his name, but she remembered him well, not only his human form but his true one, too: the details seemed to come back to her the more she thought about it, like a fog lifting, or perhaps a spell, she thought with a shudder. She could never forget those eyes, glowing green with mirth and, now that she reflected upon it, trickery. Yes, what he had done to her was evil. She would see this fixed, or he would pay.

The woman rented a room in a cheap hotel, where she left her daughter, now ten years old, locked in by herself all day long, as her mother roamed the city in search, a lunatic cast to her features. Aramyllis began hearing the man's voice on only the second day, keeping her company, telling her that her mother was just a bitter, ignorant old woman who would mistake a gem for a speck of dirt and throw it out with the kitchen scraps. He made jokes for her, laughing when she laughed, a bright tenor peal, and he told her stories about brave girls who'd turned into dashing, brilliant young woman, singular in all the world.

By the time her father arrived nine weeks later, Aramyllis seemed delirious, laughing at seemingly thin air, nodding emphatic agreement to no one. Stunned by the condition of his daughter—no, not his daughter, he reminded himself, but the daughter of a stranger—Joharin left Neria with the girl, his intentions for the older to keep the younger company, and went off in search of the woman. How was he to know what bitter spite Neria had developed for her sister since they were parted? For the next two days, Myllis was kept company by the accusations and animosity of her big sister, who blamed Myllis for the absence of their mother from the older girl's life. She mocked Myllis' stories of the mirthful man who had filled the hole left when their family fell apart, calling Myllis crazy and insisting she would be sent to the asylum.

Meanwhile, their father's timing could not have been better—or worse, depending on how you look at it. Joharin found his wife just in time to witness her confront her onetime lover, but left again shortly thereafter to collect Neria, having seen enough.
When the woman returned to Aramyllis' room later that evening, it was with a knife in her hand, stolen from that trickster man's house. Silently, she stole into the room, eyes glued to her daughter who was staring off into space with a lopsided smile on her features, giggling and nodding emphatically. Better to be rid of this curse and have it done with.

But Myllis had indeed noticed when her mother entered this space that had become a kind of haven for her—certainly it was not happy and carefree like before, but it was better than the world outside it. The girl perceived her mother's malevolence, her hostility, but stared only at the solid figure before her in unwavering trust. She had begun calling him Gabi’Rel (ga-BEE-rel), meaning Brother of Laughter, for that tenor peal as of bells that she so loved. Now, as he smiled at her in reassurance and swept his fingers softly across his forehead, time seemed to stop. Myllis watched in awe as a series of popping noises rent the air, the bones of her mother's hand and wrist shattering, the knife dropping from her now disfigured grip. Guided by the gentle words of Gabi’Rel, the girl picked it up, staring at it; the blade was long and wicked, just barely curved, with a hilt of glistening white bone engraved with tiny figures, dancing and playing instruments.

“It is yours, my sister,” he whispered into her ear, gently holding back her black curls with hands seemingly strong enough to shatter metal. “It is my gift to you.”

Directed once more by his chiming voice, she settled herself in front of her mother as time resumed. The woman's scream cleaved through the tranquility of the room, but Myllis waited until she had fallen silent, eyes wide in terror, breath ragged as she clutched her mangled hand to her breasts.

“If you ever think of hurting me again,” the girl drawled, slow and firm as she repeated the words as Gabi’Rel intoned them to her, her eyes never leaving her mothers', “I'll kill you.”
Last edited by Aramyllis Dae on Fri Apr 24, 2009 11:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Feathers on the fall.

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Aramyllis Dae
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Name: Aramyllis_Dae
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Re: Aramyllis Dae

Post by Aramyllis Dae » Mon Apr 20, 2009 10:18 pm

Description of Home and Farmstead:

At a small, grass-lined turnoff delineated with parallel rows of rocks, the elder girl pulled the younger to a stop and unlaced her arm. "Here we are."

A gateway had been built of pale stones, fitted together expertly without even the aid of cement, and yet no fence barred it. Fifty meters on, the boundary rocks gave way to three pairs of small crab apple trees. Every spring, their buds burst forth with blossoms of virgin white and deep pink, but now was the time of the berry. Birds--dark finches mostly but also small, quick thrushes and brilliantly plumaged blue jays--dotted the trees, gorging themselves on its sour fruit. Often the animals' presence was detectable only by their merry singing and by the periodic droppings that fell from the berry-laden branches to the scattering of overripe crab apples littered in the grass below.

Flocks erupted from the trees as the two girls passed, darting and diving through the air and around each other in a spontaneous ballet that defied gravity. A few stray birds zipped by only inches from the Shimians' heads, catching up breeze-blown strands of hair in the powerful thrusting of small, delicate wings and making them dance. The elder girl's eyes followed the birds' movements unerringly; always it was the same pattern, but she never got tired of watching. After the first startled explosion subsided, the flock would resettle itself onto another crab apple further along, only to repeat the display when the humans grew nearer once more. Eventually, when they were flushed from the final pair of trees, the birds would return to the beginning again. Nothing could distract them from their feast for long. Before long, the last of the berries would be rotting in the dirt, and the birds would press on south in their migration to escape the first icy breath of winter.

The front of the house was rimmed with dog rose bushes, currently heavy with crimson rose hips. The structure's ground level was constructed of the same creamy stone as the gateway out front, with a second floor of whitewashed wood paneling. Steps led up to a small front porch made of local timber, its dark reddish grain distinct to those familiar with the area's resources. A single wind chime hung next to the entrance. Between the resonant pealing of its hollow tubes in the breeze, another set of chimes could be heard, faintly, somewhere around the house.

The front door itself was, as usual, unlocked, and Aramyllis pushed it open with a twitch of her hip before waving Alyson in. Inside, the furnishings were basic but immaculate, with rugs strewn strategically over the hardwood floor to evoke a feeling of homeyness. A few unnecessary decorations on the wall added a touch of personality. Myllis led Alyson through the house, gesturing as she explained the layout. A long wall pierced with a single door divided the ground floor into two sections: in front, a living room, featuring firm sofas and a large fireplace; and in back, a kitchen, including a dining table to eat at, simple, four-legged stools for sitting on, and a recessed pantry. Another door in the kitchen opened to the backyard, revealing an acre of grassy land interrupted by smallish plots of vegetable and herb gardens planted in neat rows. Green stalks and fluttering leaves reached up out of the earth towards the life-giving sunshine. Off to one side of the lawn crouched a true apple tree, ancient limbs heavy with fruit, and an equally old mulberry tree; several younger fruit trees dotted the yard. A medium-sized barn was situated on the opposite corner of the lawn, double doors propped partway open.

Younger girl still in tow, Aramyllis returned to the front of the house and then up the flight of stairs that were tucked away into a corner. The second floor was comprised of three bedrooms, all quite small, although one was slightly larger than the other two. In one of the smaller rooms, Myllis threw open the windows, revealing another wind chime hanging from the eaves. This one produced a faint and delicate tinkling as the wind stirred the set of tiny glass bells strung along a fiber. The girl sucked in a deep breath and let herself fall, sighing, back onto the firm mattress. It was narrow and her toes poked off the end.

---
Feathers on the fall.

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Frug
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Re: Aramyllis Dae

Post by Frug » Wed Apr 22, 2009 4:57 am

Les changements; sont-ils finis?
The world is an arena, not a stage. RP is a stage, not an arena.

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