Post by Lilith Nevermore on Sept 30, 2019 8:27:03 GMT -8
Name: Lilith Nevermore
"That is Lady Nevermore to you, peasant."
Species: Human
"Do not mistake me for a mere mortal."
Age: 21
"Age matters not to a prodigy."
Gender: Female
"Do not get any ideas..."
Appearance: Lilith is a slender human girl with dainty features and a deathly pale complexion. She stands at 5'3" (161 cm) and weighs about 101 lbs. (46 kg). Her figure is petite without even a hint of muscle, a proof that she hasn’t had to work a day in her life. She has deep crimson with white pupils, an eerily gleaming gaze highlighted by just a touch of periwinkle makeup. Her mauve hair reaches below shoulders and curls at the ends. Often a large fringe covers one of her eyes. As a curious detail, she has unusually sharp teeth, only seen in the rare occasion that she smiles. Most of the time her features only reflect quiet disdain.
When it comes to outfits, Lilith dresses like a true witch. She wears long, dark robes and wide-brimmed hat, both decorated with a red belt. The robes flow over her hands and sweep the ground, adding to her ghostly appearance. Occasional traces of magic glimmer in the silken fabric. Fools who dare to pry underneath it will find refined noblewoman’s garments. And death. She always has a magic wand at hand, a metal rod with two prongs resembling devil horns. Additionally, she often carries a thick spell book decorated with her family name.
"By all means, gawk and drool like the brute that you are."
Personality: At first glance, Lilith is a quiet bookworm who loves to be surrounded by towering piles of ancient tomes. If there is a choice between social interaction and burying her nose into a book, she prefers the latter. However, quiet doesn’t equal shy or kind. Beneath the silent layer, she is snarky and cynical to the core. Enemies receive the brunt of her sarcastic remarks, but allies aren’t safe either, aside from very special exceptions. She is jaded to the point where she doesn’t fear dying. ...But she would still rather not.
Being wise beyond her years comes with being a witch, but so does a sense of arrogance. She considers herself above mere mortals by both power and birthright. Her huge ego doesn’t allow her to ask for help, just accepting if offered is humiliating enough. Rather, she views everything and everyone as resources to be used until they stop being useful. If there’s anything she bothers to outright hate, it’s all sorts of muscle heads. Adventurers, warriors and martial artists who openly admit their interests can forget about being her friends. Or even allies. Her bitter prejudice towards them is rooted deep and she certainly doesn’t hide it.
As a witch, she is mainly motivated by her endless thirst for magical knowledge, especially the forbidden kind. Thus she gets along better with Demons and other creatures that have a natural affinity for magic. Selfish by nature, she is not easily swayed by pleas, demands or even direct orders. Rather, dealing with her takes finesse, charm and a proper offering. She will go to any lengths necessary to learn something new about arcane secrets. No price is too steep and no sin is too great.
"The evil that men do is nothing compared to the evil that I do."
History: The thing about wicked witches is that their stories tend to have an unhappy ending... Though for Lilith it was more of an unhappy beginning really. The youngest heir of the Nevermore witch clan, she was blessed with a fine, rich upbringing. From magic to manners, she learned to be a witch first and a noblewoman second. Whatever her heart desired, she could extort from the feeble peasants. And all was right in the world.
Unfortunately the fun ended when some scruffy Belmont fellow paid the family a little visit. Hired by the local peasants, he declared his intentions to to bring down the entire clan. Despite the fierce resistance from the witches, his moonlit stroll through the castle was quick and messy. The guard monsters were destroyed, the magical artifacts stolen and the family elders slain. Incredibly rude, really.
However, Lilith was lucky enough to convince the murderous hobo that she was just an innocent child with little to no magical power. Having a frail frame came in handy for once. It was the most humiliating thing she had ever done, but it worked. The violent slayer gave her a stern speech about right and wrong before vanishing into the night. Thus she gathered her most important belongings and left her ruined home behind.
"Spare me your worthless pity, I need it not."
RP Sample:
Referred by: -
"That is Lady Nevermore to you, peasant."
Species: Human
"Do not mistake me for a mere mortal."
Age: 21
"Age matters not to a prodigy."
Gender: Female
"Do not get any ideas..."
Appearance: Lilith is a slender human girl with dainty features and a deathly pale complexion. She stands at 5'3" (161 cm) and weighs about 101 lbs. (46 kg). Her figure is petite without even a hint of muscle, a proof that she hasn’t had to work a day in her life. She has deep crimson with white pupils, an eerily gleaming gaze highlighted by just a touch of periwinkle makeup. Her mauve hair reaches below shoulders and curls at the ends. Often a large fringe covers one of her eyes. As a curious detail, she has unusually sharp teeth, only seen in the rare occasion that she smiles. Most of the time her features only reflect quiet disdain.
When it comes to outfits, Lilith dresses like a true witch. She wears long, dark robes and wide-brimmed hat, both decorated with a red belt. The robes flow over her hands and sweep the ground, adding to her ghostly appearance. Occasional traces of magic glimmer in the silken fabric. Fools who dare to pry underneath it will find refined noblewoman’s garments. And death. She always has a magic wand at hand, a metal rod with two prongs resembling devil horns. Additionally, she often carries a thick spell book decorated with her family name.
"By all means, gawk and drool like the brute that you are."
Personality: At first glance, Lilith is a quiet bookworm who loves to be surrounded by towering piles of ancient tomes. If there is a choice between social interaction and burying her nose into a book, she prefers the latter. However, quiet doesn’t equal shy or kind. Beneath the silent layer, she is snarky and cynical to the core. Enemies receive the brunt of her sarcastic remarks, but allies aren’t safe either, aside from very special exceptions. She is jaded to the point where she doesn’t fear dying. ...But she would still rather not.
Being wise beyond her years comes with being a witch, but so does a sense of arrogance. She considers herself above mere mortals by both power and birthright. Her huge ego doesn’t allow her to ask for help, just accepting if offered is humiliating enough. Rather, she views everything and everyone as resources to be used until they stop being useful. If there’s anything she bothers to outright hate, it’s all sorts of muscle heads. Adventurers, warriors and martial artists who openly admit their interests can forget about being her friends. Or even allies. Her bitter prejudice towards them is rooted deep and she certainly doesn’t hide it.
As a witch, she is mainly motivated by her endless thirst for magical knowledge, especially the forbidden kind. Thus she gets along better with Demons and other creatures that have a natural affinity for magic. Selfish by nature, she is not easily swayed by pleas, demands or even direct orders. Rather, dealing with her takes finesse, charm and a proper offering. She will go to any lengths necessary to learn something new about arcane secrets. No price is too steep and no sin is too great.
"The evil that men do is nothing compared to the evil that I do."
History: The thing about wicked witches is that their stories tend to have an unhappy ending... Though for Lilith it was more of an unhappy beginning really. The youngest heir of the Nevermore witch clan, she was blessed with a fine, rich upbringing. From magic to manners, she learned to be a witch first and a noblewoman second. Whatever her heart desired, she could extort from the feeble peasants. And all was right in the world.
Unfortunately the fun ended when some scruffy Belmont fellow paid the family a little visit. Hired by the local peasants, he declared his intentions to to bring down the entire clan. Despite the fierce resistance from the witches, his moonlit stroll through the castle was quick and messy. The guard monsters were destroyed, the magical artifacts stolen and the family elders slain. Incredibly rude, really.
However, Lilith was lucky enough to convince the murderous hobo that she was just an innocent child with little to no magical power. Having a frail frame came in handy for once. It was the most humiliating thing she had ever done, but it worked. The violent slayer gave her a stern speech about right and wrong before vanishing into the night. Thus she gathered her most important belongings and left her ruined home behind.
"Spare me your worthless pity, I need it not."
RP Sample:
Somewhere in the vast, vaguely charted wilderness a lonely dirt road snaked through a thick forest. Barely wide enough for a wagon, it was the kind of road that only the most desperate travelers chose, a road that heroes braved with their hands on their weapons. Towering trees greedily hogged the sunlight, forcing everything below into a gloomy shade even in the middle of a day. Nothing grew on the ground aside from the prickliest brambles and the strangest mushrooms. Predators prowled in the shadows, eager for a careless prey to stray off the beaten path. Worse yet, in the nearby villages persistent rumors whispered of a wicked witch by the name of Nevermore living in the woods...
Tucked away under the mighty trees lurked a small hut, round in shape with a pointy hat for a roof and a tilted chimney. From a distance it really resembled a violet mushroom. A single window by the side overlooked the stone path leading to the door. Peering through it into the murky darkness, one could barely make the outlines of a single chair, a table, a shelf of sorts and a beaten bed at the back. The center of the simple living space was occupied an enormous cauldron hoisted on stones. It was certainly modest. Compact. A frugal sort of person might’ve even called this place cozy. And the owner absolutely loathed it... To the former noble this pitiful shack was a home only in the sense that she came here to hide, or to lick her wounds as it were.
Speaking of whom and which...
The door creaked open on its own, pushed by a trembling hand. Lilith limped in with unsteady gait, clutching her wand in one hand and a bag of hastily gathered necessities in the other. "I call forth the fury of flames... Ignite..." The tired utterance summoned flame to the numerous candles strewn about. Stains of dirt and blood clung to her ruined robes. She barely managed to slouch on a small wooden chair without toppling over. One mumbled spell summoned a great cauldron filled with water and another lit a fire beneath it. Her foggy gaze drifted onto the bag. With great effort she got back onto her feet and began pulling carefully selected herbs to soak. Slowly the concoction started turning green and gained an unnatural glow.
Softly the dirty robes fell on the ground and the young lady shuddered at the touch of cold air. With tender steps she climbed into the cauldron just like one would slide into a bathtub. The glowing mixture seeped into her skin, soothing the pain and washing the exhaustion away. Honestly the hot herb bath was meant just as much for mending her soul as it was for her body. Humiliation burned a hundred times worse than her open wounds. To think a mere mortal could best the greatest Nevermore witches who ever lived... To bring ruin to her entire clan... Gritting her teeth at the infuriating thought, she swallowed her bitter tears and sank deeper into the healing bath. At least here she could recuperate in peace...
Without any so-called heroes trying to impose their self-serving justice on her....
Tucked away under the mighty trees lurked a small hut, round in shape with a pointy hat for a roof and a tilted chimney. From a distance it really resembled a violet mushroom. A single window by the side overlooked the stone path leading to the door. Peering through it into the murky darkness, one could barely make the outlines of a single chair, a table, a shelf of sorts and a beaten bed at the back. The center of the simple living space was occupied an enormous cauldron hoisted on stones. It was certainly modest. Compact. A frugal sort of person might’ve even called this place cozy. And the owner absolutely loathed it... To the former noble this pitiful shack was a home only in the sense that she came here to hide, or to lick her wounds as it were.
Speaking of whom and which...
The door creaked open on its own, pushed by a trembling hand. Lilith limped in with unsteady gait, clutching her wand in one hand and a bag of hastily gathered necessities in the other. "I call forth the fury of flames... Ignite..." The tired utterance summoned flame to the numerous candles strewn about. Stains of dirt and blood clung to her ruined robes. She barely managed to slouch on a small wooden chair without toppling over. One mumbled spell summoned a great cauldron filled with water and another lit a fire beneath it. Her foggy gaze drifted onto the bag. With great effort she got back onto her feet and began pulling carefully selected herbs to soak. Slowly the concoction started turning green and gained an unnatural glow.
Softly the dirty robes fell on the ground and the young lady shuddered at the touch of cold air. With tender steps she climbed into the cauldron just like one would slide into a bathtub. The glowing mixture seeped into her skin, soothing the pain and washing the exhaustion away. Honestly the hot herb bath was meant just as much for mending her soul as it was for her body. Humiliation burned a hundred times worse than her open wounds. To think a mere mortal could best the greatest Nevermore witches who ever lived... To bring ruin to her entire clan... Gritting her teeth at the infuriating thought, she swallowed her bitter tears and sank deeper into the healing bath. At least here she could recuperate in peace...
Without any so-called heroes trying to impose their self-serving justice on her....
Referred by: -