O'er fields of vellum
Mabel
Ophelia Athanasia
Emissary

Age: 29 | Height: 5'3 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 8 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 5 - Int:
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 188 | Total: 6,168
MP: 9427
#15
Ophelia

Murdered. A sister. Ophelia’s hands spasm with sudden, crystal clear rage, and the book in their hand shreds at the spine, leaving two halves in each clawed hand.

“Who?” It’s a snarl, deeper and more feral than their voice should reasonably sound, so serene and dreamlike as it normally is. Ophelia’s loyalty to family is perhaps their singular quality, and with the death of their birth family that loyalty has transferred to the Ascended one they’ve found. There is no heart to stutter and beat, but their veins seem to heat instead, nails sinking into leather binding.

It is a mantle they intend to help shoulder, and though their eyes are pale flecks of ice, as they turn to Mabel there is a yawning pit of hellfire inside them. Murder is the only solution in their opinion, and they have no moral qualms to hold them back. Even before Ascension their parents had looked askance at them, intimidated and deeply concerned by the ease with which Ophelia had slaughtered livestock or dug the graves for their siblings. Now? Now there’s even less to hold them back.
With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?
Mabel Occidendum


Age: 23 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#16
All expectations make her heart feel numb
Who was a defining impact; and she might’ve growled, might’ve howled, alongside the sudden influx of Ophelia, but some amount of civility within a library, ripping up parchment after parchment, kept her tethered to the coil. “A tall, dark-haired man in the Temple.” Which could fit a multitude, but she’d find them, him, from the depths of desecration and ensure he never saw the light of day again. Maybe not even enjoy the sanctity of Mort’s Realm. He didn’t deserve it. To cut and slash and rip and tear. To break everything apart, cycle by cycle, moment by moment.

“That’s all I know,” and she shrugged, even if it was deeper, far more meaningful thing to have the information at all. A way into the known, breaching past constant confusion; something to latch on. “But they deserve to be destroyed,” she whispered. “They all do.”

They encompassing so many things, a broad spectrum of villainy and hatred.
MABEL


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