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Bastet -> RE: When Heroes Fail - OOC (1/5/2016 16:27:00)
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Hello again. I attemped fixing Nilch'i and giving her a story, so I hope it's ok with you Kell. Feel free to push me back again if there are any issues. I edited the mind control and telepathy out and made telekinesis her only active trick (with a bump in power that could be cancelled if you'd like me to), with an emotional aura on the side that gives her no particular advantages.
Name: Nilch’i
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance: Nilch’i is rarely seen without her usual apparel, which consists of a hooded black leather coat with deep pockets and a deep-blue half-mask with no apparent features other than two slits that allow her to see through it. The mask ends just above her nostrils, allowing her to breathe through her nose with no obstructions and leaving facial features below it uncovered. Under all the layers that Nilch’i puts between herself and the real world, she appears as a fairly lithe girl with pale skin and messy, dark red waist length hair. Some of her unkempt hair pokes out of the front of her hood, though she prefers to hide it when she can: it is mostly due to the fact that it would be an annoyance to constantly keep it in check. Boots and gloves the same material and colour as her coat cover the rest of her features. While she isn’t particularly tall, she definitely isn’t too short, standing at 5’4.
Nilch’i rarely removes any clothing that would expose her to the outside world, therefore allowing most external observers to only pick up her hair and skin colour. Her voice is delicate, but rarely sweetens into compliments or other such examples of friendly conversation: harsh words and stern observations are the only thoughts she allows to leave her mouth, if she talks at all. Her half-mask is tied to the back of her head through a firm lace, knotted in such a careful way that it is impossible for it to fall off by accident. Six sheathes for throwing daggers appear on the outside of her coat, in the chest area, each containing an example of such weapons. A curious fact, however, is that none of these blades have handles, or anything that might let someone grasp them safely: these are merely shards of sharp metal, threatening to cut on any edge they are approached from.
Personality: A person of few words, molded by her past and abilities into somewhat of an outcast that, much for the same reason, is forced against her will to spend most of her time in a city she feels she doesn’t belong in. Nilch’i knows she wouldn’t survive well by herself in the wilderness, and makes no attempt to, rather living through theft, charities and simple work.
Living this way, after she managed to free herself, she grew up seeing others as little more than tools to further her own purposes. Deprived of the affection or care granted to those who were raised in normal familiar nuclei, she treats others much the same way she was treated while her abilities were still developing. The fact that she was left to find a place for herself in the world meant that she had no shoulders to cry on when she needed to, where the only support she had was her own. Her history leaves her as knowing little of standard etiquette or even the normal gestures that are used in the various sides of regular social life, besides what little she learned while spending her time making a living in Palora. Afraid to open up on one side and bearing a great hate on the other, to those who incur her wrath she’d come across as nigh-sadistic, finding satisfaction in inflicting torment on those who give her a reason to.
Abilities: Nilch’i is able to move objects around her with sheer force of thought. The speed at which an object can be thrown depends on its mass, and so does the range at which it can be done. As a rule of thumb, this ability is limited to the point that only small objects can be pushed at a speed at which they have any hope of damaging other beings. Also, objects that are heavier than one-and-a-half times Nilch’i’s weight, which would be about 75 kilograms, can’t be moved at all. To use this ability, Nilch’i has to maintain eye contact with the targeted object, though one that is already in motion obviously stays in motion. This ability has a myriad of uses, from utilitarian ones to serving both as her offense and defense during combat.
The next important fact is that Nilch’i’s mask doubles as an object that dampens the full potential of her telekinesis. Without it, she is able to even lift heavy objects or hurl people off their feet and send them flying a few yards, but she loses every control over its precision. She may be able to give the attack a vague sense of direction, but nothing more than that. It also leaves her exhausted whenever she makes use of this extra power, and stops her from using telekinesis at all for a day or more depending on usage.
Another trait she possesses is that she is particularly empathic, and easily influenced by the emotions of those around her. A cheery atmosphere inside a tavern might bring her to be a bit more talkative, while spending time close to someone who harbors great hate towards others would amplify her own. Since acquiring the mark, unfortunate events began happening to those around her, as if she carried an aura of bad luck. Nilch’i herself, however, is not aware of these abilities.
Nilch'i's physical condition isn't particularly impressive: possessing a lithe figure, she would never hold a candle in any kind of melee with someone stronger than a child. This is why she always avoids direct confrontation, working behind the backs of others or attacking from a distance.
History & Broken Oath: Not much is known about Nilch’i’s early years, and she couldn’t tell you much herself if she wanted to. Her earliest memory brings her back to the cell where she spent most of her life, being experimented upon by some cult she has only hazy memories of. Her days were simple cycles of being allowed to sleep a few hours, only being fed minimal amounts of food when she completed tests that pushed her telekinetic abilities further and further. She wasn’t allowed to pursue her own interests, the only distraction she was provided with being some kind of chanting that she occasionally heard. Never knowing what the incomprehensible words in the distance meant, she didn’t think much of it, especially after being subjected to it for so long that she stopped paying attention to it.
She had no memories of being anywhere else than the facility she lived in, being able to observe the outside only when she was taken through certain parts of the building. Nilch’i only knew her name because it was hung on a plaque outside her prison, but she had never seen anybody that wasn’t dressed in the same black robe that she herself wore. The mask she constantly wears was forced on her when she utterly lost control of her abilities during an event she barely holds any memory of, waking days later to find it tied to her with a knot that she had no hope of being able to untie herself. A man stood in front of her, explaining what it was for and threatening punishment should she ever remove it. The girl didn’t think much of it, taking it as one order like the others, but she remained as clueless as the day she was born as to why she had the abilities that made her interesting to those who took care of her.
Then, one day, she sat expecting her usual routine of being tossed around between various people who wanted to see how her abilities would fare against certain obstacles, but nobody came. The chanting in the background was silent. Nilch’i waited an amount of time that could’ve well just been a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity in a place where measuring time was impossible. Eventually, she took advantage of her telekinesis to open the rusty door that separated her from one of the many hallways of the building, and adventured alone into rooms that she had only walked when accompanied by the robed figures.
As she walked, she eventually began finding corpses. Brutally mangled corpses. She didn’t think much of it, besides gaining a tendency to jump every time she heard a noise, rather distracted by the thought that she might’ve found a way to the outside world. The corpses never stopped appearing, rather increasing in number the closer she got to the exit she eventually discovered. Nilch’i remembers little of the rooms she passed, because she was so focused on finding a way out. Eventually, a door led her to a rather anonymous exit in the side of a peripherical building to a settlement she would come to know as Palora.
Many years later, Nilch’i had become used to living in the city that eventually became her home: most of her resources went to granting herself a meal and a warm bed, taking advantage of any charitable operations around town. In the souther part of the town, she became somewhat known by tavern keepers as a frequent visitor: not for alcohol, but for work that would allow her to continue living as comfortably as she could for another day. She wasn’t immediately trusted because of her attire, but she spent years building helpful relationships with those who were willing to give her a chance.
One day, she found herself travelling to a small temple close to the Ram’s gate. She was curious to understand the religions of those around her, because she was never allowed to gather any knowledge about them. This meant that she generally regarded gods as being little more than superstition, mostly becauswe such culture was entirely left out of her upbringing. She had previously visited the location because of the help the green-robed ones would hand out with little discrimination, but never with the intent of learning more about the spiritual words that many of the denizens of Palora were so invested in. Observing from a corner of the building, she found a rather small amount of people in it, and they were mostly located close to a central altar from which one of the priests seemed to be dispensing blessings to the faithful. Not thinking much of it, she waited until she would be alone with the holy man before making her move and approaching him.
That was the day her life changed, because she immediately recognized the voice of the man who faked ignorance when he saw her wearing the robes he had once worn himself. The two stared at each other for a very brief moment before a frown appeared on Nilch’i’s forehead: it was the man who had been in her cell so many times before; the same one who explained to her what the mask she still donned was for. She felt no anger, but it wasn’t long before she hurled a blade at him without even raising a hand. Murdered in cold blood, though Nilch’i herself didn’t think much of it. What forced her to face the consequences of her actions, however, is the strange mark that appeared on her left hand as she leaved the building before someone could uncover the murder. She had broken the oath of sanctity that is accepted by those who entered religious buildings, violating one of the most central rules of such safe havens. She still didn’t think much of it, or understand why it happened, but all those she knews quickly began refusing to even speak with her. Considering that her comfort of life depended on the favors of others, she “borrowed” a set of gloves and moved away from those who had already observed the mark. Being unable to ask about it left her in a hard spot, but she attempted her own research as best as she could, even occasionally venturing into the Northern quarter in her pursuit for knowledge.
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