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Post by Veladryssa Lily on May 20, 2019 1:34:28 GMT -7
Human name: Veladryssa Aconite
Birth/Faerie Name: Celestia Lorelei
Age: 20 years
Hair color: blue-black
Eye color: bright hazel
Height: 5'0 (152.4cm)
Weight: 135lbs (61.2kg)
Mother: Unseelie Faerie Queen
Powers: Hair and eye color change depending on mood or glamour needed to blend in. Faerie Glamour- Can cast illusions and manipulations on mortals, either by changing her appearance or disguising natural elements as things of value. Seismic scream- a banshee's shriek that not only deafens but shakes the ground within a one hundred yard radius. Enraged Obliteration- In a state of inconsolable rage, Vela's touch disintegrates/obliterates whatever lies in her path.
Minute backstory: Vela was born to the Unseelie Faerie Queen and a human male. Her father, knowing her fate with the fae would only lead to strife or worse, stole her from her crib at the age of two months old, on the run with her ever since. She has a brother, a half human, half draconic shifter named Tiberius. Their father trained them to hunt, fight, and scout, never keeping in one place for long as he always feared that one day, she would be tracked down. Their father passed when Tiberius was very young, leaving Vela to raise them both, taking odd jobs as a bounty hunter to provide income to keep them fed and clothed.
Why is it always the purebloods... Veladryssa groaned, staring at the bounty in her hands. A human crime lord wanted for the slaying of magical folk and Otherkin. Most humans didn't know about the existence of magic, too brainwashed by cartoons and tales of the extreme to believe it to be real. Which was why Vela and her brother were more content to remain in the other realm, the one that segregated itself from humans in means of preservation. But sometimes, just sometimes, she had to cross those paths. "Hey, you gonna stay up there or bring your short ass down?" Tiberius called up, pulling Vela away from the bounty she'd read over multitudes of times. "Make me," she huffed, tucking the bounty in her pack. Her brother was tall enough to grab the branch she'd perched on, but knowing what lay ahead, she was down before he could make a swipe at her dangling legs.
The sky was overcast, a threatening rumble of an oncoming storm swiftly approaching. Vela straightened, bringing her gaze up to her brother. Just under a full seven feet, considered a giant by over half their encounters, his appearance could be recognized anywhere. Stark white hair to envy fresh fallen snow, and eyes so ice blue, it seemed whatever he set his sights on would instantly become frozen. Often keeping his hair long, it was tied behind his head, the scar over his left eye resembling jagged lightning. "So what's the story on this one? Goblins? Thieving dwarves?" Having his greatsword slung over his back, Tiberius slung his pack over his shoulder and the two continued down the beaten path. Nothing to see except the desolate abandon of empty fields, ravaged by war or blighted by plague. "If only it were that simple," she sighed wearily. Pinching the bridge of her nose, her free hand fiddled with the hilt of a dagger. "You've gotta cross another realm."
It wasn't a question. As many times as Vela had to venture to the human plane, it was a wonder her half-brother never harbored any resentment against her. "Yeah," her voice was sullen, reaching for the skin of mead the two often split. Once open, she brought it to her lips, imbibing several swallows before handing it over, allowing Tiberius to finish it off. They'd reach the next town within a few hours. "How long is this one supposed to take?" Her brother belched, bits of mead freezing at the corners of his mouth, then cast his concerned stare to her. "Honestly? I don't know. The guy's some rich fuck, and he's been selling or killing magical creatures. He's wanted by the Council, dead or alive, preferably alive. Even his sketch looks smug." Vela pulled the bounty from her pack, handing that to him as well. Shifting the wineskin to his other hand, his frosting breath blew out in puffs, despite the fact that it was early spring. Frost powers were hell sometimes, as he always complained about the heat. "Phaugh, this guy looks as if he swallowed dung and asked for seconds." Snorting, she yanked the paper back and elbowed him. "What? Tell me I'm wrong!" Laughing, she shook her head and tucked it away. "No," her voice was heavily laced with mirth. "No, you're not wrong."
The hours passed by easily for them, despite the odd bandit assuming they were easy targets, both of them relishing the fights that came their way. A trait from their father, really, and the one thing that bonded them like no other. As it was, they had each other, and that was all they cared for. Once they'd reached town, some unknown place whose name was easily forgotten, Vela took her pouch of coins and tossed it to Tiberius. "Don't spend it all," she warned, double checking her inventory to be sure she had everything. "I don't wanna come back to find you'd starved to death because you blew the coin on mead or wenches." He threw his hands in the air, feigning offense. "Would I ever do such a thing?" Pale azure eyes twinkled merrily and she groaned, shaking her head. "Don't get me started. All right, I have to run to the other end of this place, down to the witch's hut."
A pensive expression settled on her brother's face, his jaw set and curtly nodded. Vela felt a knot in her throat, having to leave her brother again. She knew they'd see each other again, maybe even wreck a few nomadic clans. Exhaling a heavy shaking breath, she went to her brother and embraced him, only for his arms to tighten, causing the plate of his armor to crush into her. "Air!" Vela smacked the cerulean armor repeatedly, knowing he was messing with her, and coughed briefly upon release. "Ass." But her eyes glittered, faintly flashing green and aqua in her humor. "Bring something back," Tiberius waved her off, heading to the tavern and allowing her to make the rest of the journey.
Several upon passing knew she and her brother were bounty hunters, but whereas she remained stealthy, silent even, her brother could have been mistaken for a berserker with the way he'd often charge into battle. Systematic really, because while a target's focus on one of them, by the time they realized the other, it was usually too late. Keeping her head high, despite her short stature, she passed through without incident, making her way to the end of town, toward a small seclusion of houses that led to a forest. A few yards within the forest and the flora had become decayed, rotting the closer she ventured to the witch. Not even the frogs could be heard, sensing the malevolence and keeping their distance.
Vela vaguely heard the hissing of predators, and the unmistakeable rustling of something within the reeds of the swampy marsh. The hut was on stilts, but how it remained standing, she couldn't be sure. It was as if sheer nefariousness kept the rotting wood above the festering water. Groaning creaks could be heard as the broken door opened on its rusted hinges, a woman stepping out that Vela knew was anything but frail. Appearances were the ultimate deceiver, and this hag radiated the same malignance as the area surrounding. "What manner of business does a halfling have coming to my cottage?" The hag croaked, one indicator of her impressive age. Blind in one eye, scarred and with wrinkled, hanging skin, the good eye she possessed bore into Vela with scrutiny. "You seek passage."
"That I do, crone," the half-fae replied sternly. She knew not to show fear, else the witch would detect it. "And why not just weave your own path, faerie? Is it because your magic is misleading at best?" I don't have time for this. "That sass will get you nowhere, princess. Come inside before the wretches start salivating. The fae always makes for appetizing morsels." Hazel eyes glanced to the marshy part of the forest, then she stepped silently to the witch's hut, climbing the ladder that she was sure would snap under her weight. Once inside, she did her best not to gag and covered half her face with the cloth around her neck. Vela's eyes watered from the putrescence as the hag kept her back to her. "What business have you in the realm of mortals?"
Vela's eyes became chartruese with the state of her nausea, but she swallowed the bile threatening to rise. "My business is my own," was her simple reply. Grunting, the hag turned her leering stare to the fae, still studying her avidly. "Very well, child, but know this," she hobbled to Vela and roughy grabbed her face, making her stare into ancient eyes. "The bounty in which you seek is troublesome, and you shall find yourself in more peril than you know. Peril that will, in time, follow you back." Releasing her, the hag shifted toward the table, grinding something in the mortar and slipped it into a small vial. After placing a cork to seal it, a gnarled hand thrust the vial toward her rapidly. "You'll need this," she gruffed. "Mends iron wounds." The hag didn't delve further into what she knew or how, but allowed Vela to take the thing and tuck it in to her pocket. She then gestured for her to join her outside.
The acrid scent of rot only seemed to thicken outside, mixing with arcane magics as the witch uttered runic incantations in her ancient tongue. The air was hazy with old powers, drawing Vela closer to the center in which she would have to be sent through. She knew the risks, she knew the game. In moments that seemed to quicken and still simultaneously, an opening made itself present, which looked to be nothing more than a vision of alien architecture. Metropolis. Vela could already smell the iron emanating from the structures beyond and once again, swallowed the nausea bubbling within. Peering back, just before leaving everything familiar, the hag smiled, exposing rotting gums and missing teeth, seemingly anticipating potential carnage. Unsuccessfully attempting to clench the knot of dread in her core, she stepped through the gateway, the cackling from the hag reverberating in her ears.
The scent of iron was unholy, and Vela retched in the alleyway she'd stepped to. The gate had closed behind her, but thankfully, she knew enough magic of her own to make it back. She had to, considering it was an unspoken job requirement. Pulling out the parchment, it appeared to have adapted to her current state. Instead of it appearing to be a simple wanted poster, it had now taken the form of a gala invitation, where her current target was the host. Vela read through it, memorizing the minute details as she left the alley, stepping around her unceremonious mess, head swimming from the iron surrounding her.
The gala was a charity auction and masquerade ball, auctioning rare and priceless items to help those less fortunate. She scoffed with knowing certainty. Those items for auction would be illegal, items humans said would be part of the 'black market.' Her realm held similar events, but were more open about the items in question. As it was, meddlings in her own realm were more often than not met with hostility. Biting back the inconsolable urge to groan, Vela checked over the attire requirements. Mandatory black tie, formal in every sense of the world. Oh, if only her mother could see her now. After the musings from her father, she was eternally grateful to not have the moment to know such a vile creature. Unseelie Queen or not, there were some deeds that were just unacceptable.
"What are they using now for currency?" She mused quietly, eyes still chartruese as ever in her nausea and gazing to the onslaught of civilians. Suits and ties, expensive by the looks of it all, and each of them almost curling their noses upon seeing her. She knew her ears had a slight point, but they weren't too far from human ears and she kept her chin up, forcing her way through lest she be walked over. Small though she was, it was fairly manageable to meander through the sea of people. This was the area most considered 'high society' from her understanding and several boutiques aligned the streets. Designer brands of scented water and oils, jewels that sparkled with the painstaking process of refinement, silks and satins and other materials that made exquisite dresses her mother would have been overly fond of. Flicking her gaze through one window in particular, she saw a payment transaction being made with what looked to be no more than a card.
Something easily replicated. Vela glanced to those around her, manipulating the one coin in her pocket to resemble the same thing she'd seen used inside. Complete with numbers and her human name. Satisfied, she entered the boutique, met with the same repulsed expressions as those outside. "Miss, are you lost?" A woman approached, sable haired and perfectly coifed, her stride unsure as if Vela were diseased. Holding the manipulated coin in the air, expression smug, she mustered up the sweetest voice possible. "Afraid not, ma'am. I have an invitation to the gala and find myself in need of a gown." The saleswoman stared in disbelief before plucking the card from her fingers, no doubt to test the authenticity of the item in her hand.
Checking it over, apparently bewildered yet appeased, the card was placed in Vela's waiting hand while the woman's face unrelentingly turned apologetic. "My apologies, Miss Aconite. Were you looking for something in particular for the event?" With a contented hum, she clicked her tongue, putting on airs that would rival the tales of her own mother, one dress in particular caught her attention. Plunging neckline, backless, sleeveless, emerald green and mermaid cut. With matching heels and a chain of jewels that offset the look perfectly. "That one," she nodded to it, eyebrows raised. "I want the entire thing. By chance, do you happen to possess Venetian masks?" The blonde nodded eagerly, snapping her fingers to have the dress, heels and necklace brought to the counter immediately. "We do," she replied, beckoning with a slender, manicured finger to follow to the counter.
There, Vela was presented with a variety of masks, each more suitable than the last. Finally, once her nausea seemed to be more tolerable, her entranced stare fell on one in particular. Pale gold and encrusted with diamonds, delicate enough to rest on her nose without leaving so much as an imprint once removed. "This one," her own slender fingers lifted the delicate mask, thoroughly inspecting it as if ensuring it was the finest quality. The attendant still seemed unsure if she could afford something so extravagant. "That is the finest Venetian mask we possess, Miss Aconite. One of a kind, crafted by hand-" Vela waved her off dismissively. "Yes, and I wish to buy it. Unless you don't want my money, then-" "No, wait!" Once again, her expression became smug. "Only the finest for such an appreciated customer," the saleswoman almost bowed her head, turning to the machine she could only assume would be responsible for charging the manipulated coin.
With the items wrapped and packaged with the utmost care, the card was swiped. Seconds passed like hours until a delicate chirping sound filled her ears. "Transaction approved, Miss Aconite. Do come back and see us again." The blonde was smiling brightly at her, and Vela almost sneered. She nodded curtly, slender hand taking the large bag in which the items had been placed, then left the boutique. Pack still slung over her shoulder, she hurriedly looked for a place in which to retreat from the assailing scent of iron. The masquerade would be later in the evening, after dusk, and she would need to get her act together before that time.
She found a small reprieve. A garden, filled with greenery and hardly any iron within. Trying not to run inside for immediate relief, she couldn't quell the relieved sigh upon entrance. Almost immediately, her nausea abated, eyes returning to their normal hazel hue. She was thankful her hair didn't also reflect upon her queasiness. Vela spent the better part of an hour within the garden, admiring the flora within when she decided it was time to leave. Having to once again bear the sickening scent of that foul metal, she walked briskly to the gala's location, finding a nearby inn, or what the humans referred to as a hotel. Doubting she'd need it til morning, she still proceeded with the formalities, once again using the manipulated coin to transact a room for the evening.
Even the lodgings were more than accommodating. Vela, however, barely paid them any mind, swiftly undressing to prepare for what would potentially be the biggest payout she'd ever seen. The shower was standing, glass doors to prevent water from spraying on a marble floor. The handles to control the temperature of the water were made with a material she hadn't encountered, but it made little difference. She hadn't been burned and she bathed with oils and soaps that were so lavish in their presentation, it was a wonder these humans could even afford to eat. Afterward, wrapping a plush linen around her curving frame, she began with fixing her hair, drying it in an updo, ringlets framing her oval face. Her makeup was minimal, khol rimming her eyes and the faintest application of beeswax to her lips to keep them hydrated. It was only then she proceeded to dry the rest of her figure and don the gown.
Fit as if it were custom tailored to her and her alone, the jewels offset the appearance as she thought they would, all that remained were the shoes which she thought could have been less lengthy. Once she'd finished, all that remained was her equipment. Blades of silver and steel that were sheathed on a band that resembled a garter, Vela slipped the band up to mid thigh, placing the smallest blade beneath the plunging neckline in front. She refused to go in blind. Fully prepared, she held onto the mask and the illusioned bounty, then left to attend the gala.
Just before arriving, the mask was tied comfortably over her eyes and she could detect the distinct strings of violins among other instruments being played, along with the heavy beat of drums. Vela took a handful of her skirt, lifting just enough to walk without making any blunders, and proceeded to the doors, handing the doorman the slip to show her invite when he handed it back and allowed her entry. Her first encounter could have resembled a ballroom in grandeur, crystalline chandaliers, golden or granite beams enscribed with roaring lions and fallen deer, among things that could be considered obscene had one looked close enough. Cherubim adorned the peaks of the beams in question, some possessing miniscule bows with pointed arrows.
Several heads turned to take in her appearance, but not once did she show how it affected her. Quite the contrary. Vela simulated pure confidence and arrogance, head high as her curls bounced with each step. Murmurs of approval could be heard upon her passing. She knew no one there, not a soul. Most of these in attendance could be considered nouveau riche, most of them only recently acquiring wealth. Still, she hadn't spotted her target. Among all the perfumed insolence, she had not detected him yet. A flash of someone broad framed could be seen passing into a restricted area, but the invitation looked as though she was allowed access anywhere. Vela followed, finding her target at the end of an interminable hall, speaking with a few men in similar suits, his mask removed from his face. Pacing herself, she turned a corner and found herself in another hall, but this one allowed her to be closer without being seen.
Baritone pitch could be heard, the low murmuring of hushed voices. "Be sure tonight sees no mistakes," one spoke. Vela could only assume it was her target, as several 'Yes sir's could be heard before footfalls indicated the group was dispersing. With a delicate plot slowly coming to fruition, she played the powerless female, chewing her lip and attempting to be as demure as possible. "Oh, ouch!" Her voice was breathy in its feigned distress and, as she'd anticipated, her target came directly toward her. She had to resist the urge to smile triumphantly. "Miss? Are you quite all right? Have you been hurt?" Though his voice bore only concern, she could immediately detect his intentions. Fake it. Remember the money. Smiling in what she'd hoped was a shy manner, she nodded faintly. "I... I think so, but... I-I seem to have found myself lost. Tell me, would you happen to be returning to the ball?"
He smiled, nodding in response and offered his arm, which she took without seeming too eager or reluctant. "Why, yes, I am. And pray tell me, what is a woman such as yourself called?" Vela clicked her tongue. "Ah, ah, the sole purpose of a masquerade is mystery, is it not, monsieur?" He laughed heartily, guiding her toward the unmistakeable chatter of the fellow guests and opened the door for her. The ballroom was even more grand than the entrance, adorned with gold, marble, and polished stone. "If I might excuse myself?" His eyes found hers and became a bit perplexed, but nodded. "Certainly, Miss, but you will return, will you not?" Vela gave her best curtsey and inclined her head. "That I will," she promised, then calmly stepped around to survey the surroundings and potential escapes should anything go awry.
Word Count: 3710 Fiore