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↘ xxxx Ҟale ᾌstaria ζucien xxxx ↙
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↣ The Axe of Lucien ↤
"Of which do you enjoy most? The taste of FLESH....or the taste of BONE?"
The candles on my cake add up to Sixty Nine
I am a Fallen Roc and affiliated with Malandaia
Team Two will win with me as a Player
Females suit my fancy more than males do
I have a few nicknames
Luck of the Bone - The Axe of Lucien - Mistress of the Bones
But I would rather you call me Kale
Fully Transformed: Astaria
↣ A b i l i t i e s
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¯ ¯ ↘ What shall I say about my abilities? I can be your bad luck or your nightmare. Which do you prefer? With a roll of 2, 6-sided dice tells my victim's fate. The number from 2 to 12 determines the power level for bad luck and realisticness for hallucinations of the victim.
For Hallucinations: 2-5 is slightly unrealistic and weak (from 1min-5min), 6-10 is a short but very realistic hallucination(15 mins to an hour), 11-12 is a long (2 to 3 hours)and very realistic hallucination.
For Bad Luck: 2-5 will miss the target but cause damage to nearby area to get in their way, or fall upon them. Weak power. 6-10 is a much more powerful attack, causing something unfortunate to happen, like the sword slip out of the target's hand. It still might miss the target & destroy the nearby area. 11-12 Is the strongest and most accurate blow. It could cause a snake to bite the intended victim, or begin to strangle them. It could also cause time space to rip open a black hole and swallow the intended victim.
The victim also has a play in this as my power affects everyone differently. Still, I posses the sight, the smell, the reasoning, and the wings like an eagle, but as a Fallen Roc, I have hid my wings... only to be revealed with innumerable pain and a surge of Adrenaline in my blood as I transform into a black magic winged predator. As more adrenaline pumps my blood, I become even stronger and quicker than even most Roc. Also when I transform into her, my chances increase by 2, but my energy becomes very depleted. I have learned well how to keep the dark side mostly at bay, until I need her: Astaria.
With much meditation or through Lucid Dreams, I can foresee some parts of the future, but only about my own future, it seems.
↣ P e r s o n a l i t y
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¯ ¯ ↘ Righteous. I know I am right all of the time, and I will fiercely back my opinion in case anyone else has something to say about that. It's almost better to just go along with me and trust that I have the right information. How I intend to use that information is where most people might disagree with me. What they don't know is the amount of reading I have done in my sixty nine years well prepared my mind with pure intelligence. However, just as anyone else, I have my dark side. Of course I used to have three of me in my head: Good, Neutral, and Evil. I used to have dreams about my evil side as a child and She, Astaria steadily became a larger force in my mind as even my Neutral side began to despair. At one point in my life, Good's entrapment of Neutral and Evil led to a mutiny within my mind.
My Father, a very high Councilman in Ithus, calls it Multiple Personality Disorder, but since birth, he had brainwashed me to know what Good vs Evil is, and thus forced out all parts of me. The first time I transformed in Astaria was also the first time that Good and Neutral were able to talk and begin to understand who Good was: a weakling, ill-prepared for the duties of war, as my Father described it. That night, I saw it in myself as well, but Astaria knew otherwise, she knew what I could become. I wanted to fight, so Astaria took control and I transformed into a white eyed, black winged beast hungering for death. Indeed, the taste of blood and flesh is my fetish, and to this day, it only takes enough adrenaline and thirst to bring her out.
When I am Neutral, I usually seem distant, maybe even shy, but it is just because I'm shut up in my own head. Of course, like I said before, I have no problems what-so-ever in speaking my mind when I feel obliged. I am alright working in a team, but I do not like leaders who are overreaching in the power they think they have. I have no problem with doing whatever the ******** I want instead. If I agree with them, I will gladly work with them.
↣ M y x S t o r y
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¯ ¯ ↘ There was once a time that I had great, expansive white wings upon my back and light hair paired with my green eyes: I was considered beautiful ever since my birth in Ithus. For fifty years I suffered under my Father's sexist rule. I began sneaking out with a mask and hood to train with the other boys- and they were the only ones that treated me humanely. I spent the days reading and the nights fighting. I became who I wanted in those moments of pulverizing other men til their blood stained everything I wore. What freedom.
The day my Father said those simple words, and my mental instability fell through the cracks letting out the white eyed, black winged huntress. I attacked my Father with all my anger- an emotional break and big mistake. With much more strength than I, he quickly gained leverage, but the dice had already been thrown, double sixes. As he choked me, a boom sounded through our ears and a gravitational pull began to force upon us, stronger and stronger into the black hole that I created. He looked behind him at the white and black and translucent tear in space time. Right as he looks back to me, my two fingers plunge into his eyeballs and his grip drops to my wing, now holding even tighter. A Black tongue stretches out from the hole, wraps around him and drags him in screaming until his face tears off of my fingers which were still stuck in his sockets, and my wing tears off my back leaving nothing but a stub.I feasted on what was left of his brain matter and flesh. I licked his Skull clean and now I wear it for all to see what has become of Ithus.
That night, I ran as far as I could to the only person I had read about who might be able to help me: Lucien. I'm not sure how far I had traveled, but He did not come to me until I lay face down in the dirt from loss of blood. I wake up, back to my white wings: now tattered bloody and torn. What a most terrifying experience to wake up to as a Roc. Lucien helped me. He offered to help get back my wings and subdue my Good side which I had been trying to do for quite a long time. He placed a spell over my dark wings so that they would grow from my back when I have enough energy to sustain it. Otherwise, the spell would subside and I would go back to my Neutral self. As for my Good side, I chained her up in my mind, changed my last name to Lucien, Tore off my other white wing so that only 2 stubs on my back is the remnant of them. Until I transform, then magnificent, purple and black wings formed with the entwining dark magic that projects from the old stubs upon my back.
What pain I have endured, and as a prize for my willingness to see the truth of Lucien, I was given His Double Headed Axe and an array of poison dipped daggers now hidden around my body.
↣ H o w x I x G o t x H e r e
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¯ ¯ ↘ After training with Lucien, becoming antiquated with the arts of weaponry, meditation, and murdering, things got a bit murky when He crossed my line of respect once. I ran away again, further into the swamps of Malandaia. I came upon a small town at the edge of the forest who had even heard about my travelings as The Axe of Lucien. They just didn't know I was a girl. Everyone thought the Councilman of Ithus had a son, and I was able to pass as a human for a short time and entered into the contest as a fighter. I defeated one person after another with ease because of my sharp senses and ability to fight. I didn't even need to use my weaponry. Now they know I'm not human because of my fighting wonders them...they have yet to meet Astaria. I hope I run into my old fellow Ithus'ians.
