Bettie Bandy
Bettie Bandy
Human
5th Vhalar 697
5' 2"
dark hair
dark eyes
slim build
Human
5th Vhalar 697
5' 2"
dark hair
dark eyes
slim build
.
"But the thing is-- what I'm trying to say, I mean, is just that... you realize it's all very... complicated. Like-- like a million-- no, no... a billion. More than that, even. Maybe... mabye many many billions. An uncountable and unknowable amount of billions. That's just-- that's how many possibilities there are. How many things can go--- you know, go... wrong. Go a way that's different than the-- than the one you that you --I?-- well... than the one I want. And that-- it's just so vast. It's the heart in the center in the-- the middle of-- of everything. It's what I've been trying to say:
The world is horrifying."
The world is horrifying."
WHO
A little bit of timid but not so of much shy. A head of skeptic's questions and far too many why's.
A smile to avoid a fight, a laugh to calm her nerves,
A sense of never knowing quite right how to say her words.
A hint of magic's tampering, a gallon of foresight,
A sigh and an 'I Told You So' clipped out after fight.
A lack of wonder for the things that wonder often claims,
But easily replaced by hunger for eccentric gains.
A knowing fear of all the things the world may seek to give,
Yet knowing too that fear of such makes life a bane to live.
A want to become better, a fear of being whole,
A dread akin to fetter with comfort as its toll.
A girl who understands that knowing isn't understanding,
And would seek epiphany... were it not so demanding.
WHEN
A bastard is just a bastard as a goose is just a goose,
Or so they say such things should be, and yet for some blood reigns king.
A dull servant's life was set before her, plain and grey and bleak,
Then He, a mask of savior dawned, descended down to claim her.
"My Child, My Heart," He'd said so softly, warm purring in her ear,
"I've come to bestow upon you all the things our blood demands."
Rose tinted words they surely were because what she was granted
Was a role as substitute should his true blue heir be wasted.
Books and studies, histories and family genealogies,
She sometimes wondered if her life would be better scrubbing floors.
But such passings thoughts required time she rarely often had,
For mostly she applied herself to keeping her position.
Her "brother", whom she never called as such given her station,
Was lazy, indolent, and lewd, but still her match through talent.
They learned, together, of the spark and of Emea's power,
And why He had thought it prudent to procure another heir.
There was no telling who would return from that looming trial
Where one is cast into abyss and gain new strength or perish.
Her usefulness existed only in His fear of failure,
If her "brother" passed the test, she'd no longer have value.
And for a time that gnawing worry ate away within her,
Until she realized fate was more than just something one received.
For fate was merely outcome of things done with a goal in mind,
And she refused to be cast aside nor wallow hopelessly.
So she chose to study harder, and she shut herself away.
She trained her mind and body in hopes to gain the upper hand.
And when that fated day arrived, a looming cloud of darkness,
Both she and he emerged out from the other side victorious.
Elated as she should have been, her work at last bearing fruit,
He sent her on her lonely way, her service now at an end.
A purse of coins and head filled stuffed with knowledge to the brim,
No family any longer nor name suited for its lacking,
That waking nightmare left behind a single pervasive task:
To see the world not through her eyes but magic's cloying guidance.
Or so they say such things should be, and yet for some blood reigns king.
A dull servant's life was set before her, plain and grey and bleak,
Then He, a mask of savior dawned, descended down to claim her.
"My Child, My Heart," He'd said so softly, warm purring in her ear,
"I've come to bestow upon you all the things our blood demands."
Rose tinted words they surely were because what she was granted
Was a role as substitute should his true blue heir be wasted.
Books and studies, histories and family genealogies,
She sometimes wondered if her life would be better scrubbing floors.
But such passings thoughts required time she rarely often had,
For mostly she applied herself to keeping her position.
Her "brother", whom she never called as such given her station,
Was lazy, indolent, and lewd, but still her match through talent.
They learned, together, of the spark and of Emea's power,
And why He had thought it prudent to procure another heir.
There was no telling who would return from that looming trial
Where one is cast into abyss and gain new strength or perish.
Her usefulness existed only in His fear of failure,
If her "brother" passed the test, she'd no longer have value.
And for a time that gnawing worry ate away within her,
Until she realized fate was more than just something one received.
For fate was merely outcome of things done with a goal in mind,
And she refused to be cast aside nor wallow hopelessly.
So she chose to study harder, and she shut herself away.
She trained her mind and body in hopes to gain the upper hand.
And when that fated day arrived, a looming cloud of darkness,
Both she and he emerged out from the other side victorious.
Elated as she should have been, her work at last bearing fruit,
He sent her on her lonely way, her service now at an end.
A purse of coins and head filled stuffed with knowledge to the brim,
No family any longer nor name suited for its lacking,
That waking nightmare left behind a single pervasive task:
To see the world not through her eyes but magic's cloying guidance.
HOW
transmutation | 25 | 4endurance | 25 | 1
detection | 25 | 0
[fast track: acrobatics]
fluent in common
endurance -
reading through sleepiness
transmutation -
the steps
identity
corrosion
brilliance
50 sp 25 rb | -25 sp transmutation | -25 sp endurance | -25 rb detection |
WHAT
5 sets of clothing
backpack
journal [heirloom]
pencil
fountain pen and inkwell
wealth tier 5 - 66backpack
journal [heirloom]
pencil
fountain pen and inkwell
housing - tier 5 house in Na'haer
WHERE
threadsWHIMSY
witchmark - the tips of Bettie's fingers always look perpetually burnt, as if her skin was made of papermutations - none