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Character Bios / Re: Beast of a Thousand Torments
« Last post by RandomRabbit on November 28, 2023, 03:56:49 pm »Amusing Fiends
Bellindra face lit up as the ice cream sundae arrived. Her face though was a pale flesh tone, wings were missing, hair and general facial structure was the same but to all observers she looked like a somewhat goth girl with torn fishnet leggings, round rim glasses, and a leather jacket. To her left sat the large and burly warrior who called himself Varlon, wild brown locks framing his face as he looked at the sundae with casual interest. He had declined to get ice cream, but he did receive a hotdog. His axe was resting on the back of his chair. To her left sat Simon of Legacy Chain. The arcanist was glancing at her sundae with a faint level of disdain. He had stated this wasn't the time for ice cream. And then, across from her sat a man named Devon, also of Legacy Chain, he patiently eyed the sundae, he appreciated the offer but he had already eaten, his brown hair and neatly trimmed beard were half way towards gray. Past the only slightly dingy storefront and an expanse of water the Golden Giza of Saint Martial caught the light of a low hanging sun, shinning with brilliance.
Bellindra savored the first spoonful of ice cream. The first bite was always the best, the explosion of fudgey creamy vanillay flavor delivering a spike of bliss, "The first bite is always the most divine" she said a beat later, "Thank you for letting me chose the venue. I had read the reviews on the place and it lives up to them. It's unfortunate they suffer on the business front because of..." She gestured past the window, a few rough looking men with improvised cybernetics were loitering between the shop and the water's edge. "...not the best neighborhood. Hoodlums and spiders."
Devon gave a slightly bemused smile, "I thank you for agreeing to see us. Varlon has spoken well of you."
Bellindra glanced towards the burly man as he shifted in the seat that barely contained him, "I can't imagine why. Though the way he's been following me since Mercy Island I suppose he sees something." The warrior only responded with a grin as he munched on a mouthful of hotdog.
Devon nodded, "I was unaware you could assume a mortal guise."
Bellindra shrugged casually, "I wasn't aware I could either until recently. Makes sampling the local flavor much easier."
Devon cocked his head to the side, seemingly measuring her response, "Where do you get the budget for that if you don't mind me asking."
Bellindra idly swallowed yet another spoonful before answering, "Odd jobs. No shortage of people paying to rough up someone else. Whole island is at each other's throats. And then there's people like Sgt. Schorr." She wasn't sure if name dropping the Wyvern operative was the best choice or not. She heard Chain and Wyvern worked together now and then. Half the time when she was doing brute work though she'd wait until Varlon was off on one of his little side crusades, she wasn't sure how he felt about merc work, and she didn't feel like dragging him into the mud.
"Interesting." Devon responded, "Interesting indeed, to find an old fiend content with sundae's."
"That's exactly the point." She said, pointing with her spoon, "Do you know what eternity is like? The years blend together. The past is a blur. I just simply was. I existed the beast of a thousand torments in some ruined ramparts where at one time I had a legion before I stopped caring about much of anything. This though." She pointed at the ice cream with her spoon, "This life of momentary pleasures. The now-ness I am experiencing." She gestured in a circular fashion with her spoon. "I was wrong about things. These simple pleasures, living day by day. The charm of it grows on me."
"Very interesting." Devon said as he leaned back in his chair. He stared right through Bellindra pondering.
It was clear to the demon he was measuring her worth. She was honestly surprised he wasn't more defensive around her. "You are aware demons are rather good at lying and manipulating people yes?"
"Yes." Devon responded with a smirk. She could feel Simon eying her with a bit more suspicious intent, but Devon remained relaxed, "Your actions speak quite loudly for you though."
"You never went out of your way to cause needless anguish." Varlon offered, having long finished his hotdog.
Devon nodded, "Your actions can be rather, capricious." He added, she got the feeling he was more aware of all her activities then Varlon, "But you aren't very maliceful."
She shrugged, "What's the point of it? Where does it get me?"
"You tell me 'Lament of Tyrone.'" Devon shot a sly smile at her.
Bellindra shifted uncomfortably. She remembered that one through the fog of her past. It was her best coup on corrupting and seizing a soul, turning a crusader from a warrior of god to a malice filled man by playing on and encouraging his sadistic and vengeful qualities. Though in time that which that soul earned her in hell passed, like all things did, and her actions felt hollow in retrospect, "My how low the mighty have fallen." She offered with a smile, "I have wondered if I am me or simply the concept of me as imagined by someone summoning me. I appear to be me though... how else would I remember things like that."
"You are most definitely Bellindra." Simon shot back with some vitriol in his voice.
She shrugged, "Surely you didn't request this meeting simply to probe my worth?"
Devon nodded, "Are you familiar with the Wheel of Fortune?"
She looked up from the sundae she was picking apart, "That green with the boardwalk and the circus?"
"Yes" Said Devon, "Are you familiar with that circus, the Carnival of Shadows."
"Not deeply. I saw some masks that reminded me of Venice."
"Venice?" Varlon asked.
"Yes Venice." Bellindra responded, "Venetian carnivals have been an occurrence for centuries. The Italians have much prettier costumes though. Actually, it's a little jarring how much flesh they expose compared to how little Venetian carnival costumes do."
Devon looked thoughtful, "You sound familiar."
"An Italian magician had called upon me... I forget how long ago, the past is a blur. I do remember his name 'Uriel di Inferno'. I wasn't the only one mind you. Got bored with demons when he found this woman, I forget her name.." She shook her head, "Probably unimportant. They are all long dead. What of this Carnival?"
Devon, "They sprang up in Paragon city and spread to other places, like the Isles. At first it seemed like some ribald Carnival that catered to the rich. That's when people started dying. After various mystics and heroes of Paragon probed into the matter it became apparently the life force of people was being supped upon. Tried stamping them out, but they moved to the shadows. Various powerful and rich people answer to the Carnival. We're pretty sure they're up to the same here. We're more interested in getting a better reckoning of what they have there and what they are doing. Legacy Chain is a known rabble rouser in these parts. You, less so."
Bellindra nodded, "I see, before you get offering payment I got something in mind already."
The older mage raised a brow, "Oh?"
The demon nodded, "Can you arrange the paperwork that would let me enter the United States without having to duck legal scrutiny."
Devon smirked at that answer mulling the thought in his head, "I'll see what I can do."
She nodded, "Then I'll see what I can do."
It was well into evening when she arrived. Masked entertainers were offering fliers, promising an evening of entertainment. It was hard to miss the circus tents. In any other city a Carnival with this rep wouldn't operate so openly. Then again St. Martial wasn't most cities. Bellindra wasted no time acquiring a funnel cake. She feasted upon the sweet treat as she drifted from tents to shows. As a demon who dealt with souls she had a feel for such things. All the performers were gnawed upon in some fashion, at least spiritually. All of them had souls weakened as if something had been nibbling away at them. A few of them were little more then hollow shells acting out someone else's will.
The tent Bellindra was currently in had a mesmer in a lovely dress making audience members behave like barnyard animals and other tricks. As she sat there taking in the show she couldn't help but feel like she was in some vast spider's web. All the soul-worn entertainers were like flies stuck in that web. Even the audience members caught up in the show. The heightened emotion, the link of control, something was taking a nibble right in front of her. She didn't know what though, but she could feel that presence permeating the air, hanging about the masks acting like tethers for its web, feel it's idle gaze passing across her and the rest of the audience.
She left the show taking a breath of the cool evening air as she tried poking more towards the back tents. Burly men were guarding them. Their bodies bore wounds and bruises, what took her aback though was she sensed no spirit within those men. They were little more then meat puppets. Bellindra turned to leave back towards the more crowded areas of the event, a woman in a mask dressed in a licentious jester's motley blocked her way. The woman cocked her head, "Nosy little devil huh?"
Bellindra wasn't sure if she was digging at her nature of just using an expression, she flashed a disarming smile. "I don't suppose you know where a woman can relieve herself?"
The woman drew a rapier, it glint with more light then what the evening lights were casting upon it, she held it with the grace of an olympic fencer, "If you are looking to relieve yourself of some of that demon blood, I think I can arrange that."
Bellindra put her arms up disarmingly, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm not looking for a fight."
"I am though!" Cried out the fencer as she lunged at Bellindra, it was a graceful jab that would have found purchase in Bellindra if she hadn't stepped aside at the last moment. Catching the woman's arm with a hand wreathed in hellfire. The woman pulled free with surprising strength. He arm was singed but she scarcely paid the injury any heed as she came in for another strike. Bellindra knew this behavior, it's just like when she'd suppress pain and empower her allies to power through their injuries. Except this woman was naturally in this state. Bellindra let out a shrill cry, the sound jostled her assailant to her core, forcing her to recoil as her body recalled what pain was, a barrage of hellfire from the fiend later and the girl's bravado melted to an anguished cry as she dropped to the ground, rolling out the flames. The soulless hulks were starting to move her way, she noticed a shift in the entertainers to her other side, they were beginning to throng her way. Bellindra snatched the fencer's dropped blade, removed her jacket, and leapt the railing, wings sprung from her back as her skin took on a violet tone, horns rose from her head as she stopped suppressing her fiendish nature and flew off.
The second meeting with Devon was far less involved. Meeting at a street corner. Bellindra was back in her goth human disguise, "The whole lot of them is like a spider web writhing with flies all partially drained. From my experience, passion makes the soul burn bright and flare up, makes it easier to sup from the essence. That's why the Carnival, the fear and passion both work to make the crowd susceptible to a sip. I tried getting towards some of the back tents but they started coming at me. Had me pegged as a demon through my disguise.
Devon mulled it over, "I suppose if someone is dealing with souls they'd learn to feel out a demon."
Bellindra nodded, holding out the blade, wrapped in canvas. She handed it over, "Swords of this craftsmanship are not easily made. Even in this day and age, you might find something tracking the source of this down."
Devon took it but shrugged, "Probably another addled craftsman who doesn't remember why they are making these blades or who they are sending them to."
Bellindra cocked her head, "That common?"
Devon nodded, "Not the first time tracing their supplies ended like that."
Bellindra, "The brutes are soulless."
"Tracks with what we've heard."
Bellindra nodded, folding her arms thoughtfully, "And the servants are... hard to described, they are cranked up, pain suppression, adrenaline, these are things I do to comrades in arms in short bursts to help them power through combat. If this is done constantly however, this will greatly shorten their life spans..."
"Their own do tend to turn up dead. It would explain their prowess while they live."
She nodded again, "Honestly the whole thing infuriates me."
Devon glanced at Bellindra a moment, "Not the sort of reaction I expect from a demon."
"Yeah, my recent time on earth has been a whirlwind of new experiences. I don't think I expected to be in this position."
"How do you feel about it though Bellindra?"
"You can't improve if you don't change. I'm happy with where I'm going. I'm not aiming to be anything grand, I'm just living life one step at a time."
Devon smiled faintly, "Not a lot of information, but I think I can get you enough papers to enter the States. Be aware though, if you play loose with the law there you'll regret it in short order."
She nodded, "I'm aware."
Bellindra face lit up as the ice cream sundae arrived. Her face though was a pale flesh tone, wings were missing, hair and general facial structure was the same but to all observers she looked like a somewhat goth girl with torn fishnet leggings, round rim glasses, and a leather jacket. To her left sat the large and burly warrior who called himself Varlon, wild brown locks framing his face as he looked at the sundae with casual interest. He had declined to get ice cream, but he did receive a hotdog. His axe was resting on the back of his chair. To her left sat Simon of Legacy Chain. The arcanist was glancing at her sundae with a faint level of disdain. He had stated this wasn't the time for ice cream. And then, across from her sat a man named Devon, also of Legacy Chain, he patiently eyed the sundae, he appreciated the offer but he had already eaten, his brown hair and neatly trimmed beard were half way towards gray. Past the only slightly dingy storefront and an expanse of water the Golden Giza of Saint Martial caught the light of a low hanging sun, shinning with brilliance.
Bellindra savored the first spoonful of ice cream. The first bite was always the best, the explosion of fudgey creamy vanillay flavor delivering a spike of bliss, "The first bite is always the most divine" she said a beat later, "Thank you for letting me chose the venue. I had read the reviews on the place and it lives up to them. It's unfortunate they suffer on the business front because of..." She gestured past the window, a few rough looking men with improvised cybernetics were loitering between the shop and the water's edge. "...not the best neighborhood. Hoodlums and spiders."
Devon gave a slightly bemused smile, "I thank you for agreeing to see us. Varlon has spoken well of you."
Bellindra glanced towards the burly man as he shifted in the seat that barely contained him, "I can't imagine why. Though the way he's been following me since Mercy Island I suppose he sees something." The warrior only responded with a grin as he munched on a mouthful of hotdog.
Devon nodded, "I was unaware you could assume a mortal guise."
Bellindra shrugged casually, "I wasn't aware I could either until recently. Makes sampling the local flavor much easier."
Devon cocked his head to the side, seemingly measuring her response, "Where do you get the budget for that if you don't mind me asking."
Bellindra idly swallowed yet another spoonful before answering, "Odd jobs. No shortage of people paying to rough up someone else. Whole island is at each other's throats. And then there's people like Sgt. Schorr." She wasn't sure if name dropping the Wyvern operative was the best choice or not. She heard Chain and Wyvern worked together now and then. Half the time when she was doing brute work though she'd wait until Varlon was off on one of his little side crusades, she wasn't sure how he felt about merc work, and she didn't feel like dragging him into the mud.
"Interesting." Devon responded, "Interesting indeed, to find an old fiend content with sundae's."
"That's exactly the point." She said, pointing with her spoon, "Do you know what eternity is like? The years blend together. The past is a blur. I just simply was. I existed the beast of a thousand torments in some ruined ramparts where at one time I had a legion before I stopped caring about much of anything. This though." She pointed at the ice cream with her spoon, "This life of momentary pleasures. The now-ness I am experiencing." She gestured in a circular fashion with her spoon. "I was wrong about things. These simple pleasures, living day by day. The charm of it grows on me."
"Very interesting." Devon said as he leaned back in his chair. He stared right through Bellindra pondering.
It was clear to the demon he was measuring her worth. She was honestly surprised he wasn't more defensive around her. "You are aware demons are rather good at lying and manipulating people yes?"
"Yes." Devon responded with a smirk. She could feel Simon eying her with a bit more suspicious intent, but Devon remained relaxed, "Your actions speak quite loudly for you though."
"You never went out of your way to cause needless anguish." Varlon offered, having long finished his hotdog.
Devon nodded, "Your actions can be rather, capricious." He added, she got the feeling he was more aware of all her activities then Varlon, "But you aren't very maliceful."
She shrugged, "What's the point of it? Where does it get me?"
"You tell me 'Lament of Tyrone.'" Devon shot a sly smile at her.
Bellindra shifted uncomfortably. She remembered that one through the fog of her past. It was her best coup on corrupting and seizing a soul, turning a crusader from a warrior of god to a malice filled man by playing on and encouraging his sadistic and vengeful qualities. Though in time that which that soul earned her in hell passed, like all things did, and her actions felt hollow in retrospect, "My how low the mighty have fallen." She offered with a smile, "I have wondered if I am me or simply the concept of me as imagined by someone summoning me. I appear to be me though... how else would I remember things like that."
"You are most definitely Bellindra." Simon shot back with some vitriol in his voice.
She shrugged, "Surely you didn't request this meeting simply to probe my worth?"
Devon nodded, "Are you familiar with the Wheel of Fortune?"
She looked up from the sundae she was picking apart, "That green with the boardwalk and the circus?"
"Yes" Said Devon, "Are you familiar with that circus, the Carnival of Shadows."
"Not deeply. I saw some masks that reminded me of Venice."
"Venice?" Varlon asked.
"Yes Venice." Bellindra responded, "Venetian carnivals have been an occurrence for centuries. The Italians have much prettier costumes though. Actually, it's a little jarring how much flesh they expose compared to how little Venetian carnival costumes do."
Devon looked thoughtful, "You sound familiar."
"An Italian magician had called upon me... I forget how long ago, the past is a blur. I do remember his name 'Uriel di Inferno'. I wasn't the only one mind you. Got bored with demons when he found this woman, I forget her name.." She shook her head, "Probably unimportant. They are all long dead. What of this Carnival?"
Devon, "They sprang up in Paragon city and spread to other places, like the Isles. At first it seemed like some ribald Carnival that catered to the rich. That's when people started dying. After various mystics and heroes of Paragon probed into the matter it became apparently the life force of people was being supped upon. Tried stamping them out, but they moved to the shadows. Various powerful and rich people answer to the Carnival. We're pretty sure they're up to the same here. We're more interested in getting a better reckoning of what they have there and what they are doing. Legacy Chain is a known rabble rouser in these parts. You, less so."
Bellindra nodded, "I see, before you get offering payment I got something in mind already."
The older mage raised a brow, "Oh?"
The demon nodded, "Can you arrange the paperwork that would let me enter the United States without having to duck legal scrutiny."
Devon smirked at that answer mulling the thought in his head, "I'll see what I can do."
She nodded, "Then I'll see what I can do."
It was well into evening when she arrived. Masked entertainers were offering fliers, promising an evening of entertainment. It was hard to miss the circus tents. In any other city a Carnival with this rep wouldn't operate so openly. Then again St. Martial wasn't most cities. Bellindra wasted no time acquiring a funnel cake. She feasted upon the sweet treat as she drifted from tents to shows. As a demon who dealt with souls she had a feel for such things. All the performers were gnawed upon in some fashion, at least spiritually. All of them had souls weakened as if something had been nibbling away at them. A few of them were little more then hollow shells acting out someone else's will.
The tent Bellindra was currently in had a mesmer in a lovely dress making audience members behave like barnyard animals and other tricks. As she sat there taking in the show she couldn't help but feel like she was in some vast spider's web. All the soul-worn entertainers were like flies stuck in that web. Even the audience members caught up in the show. The heightened emotion, the link of control, something was taking a nibble right in front of her. She didn't know what though, but she could feel that presence permeating the air, hanging about the masks acting like tethers for its web, feel it's idle gaze passing across her and the rest of the audience.
She left the show taking a breath of the cool evening air as she tried poking more towards the back tents. Burly men were guarding them. Their bodies bore wounds and bruises, what took her aback though was she sensed no spirit within those men. They were little more then meat puppets. Bellindra turned to leave back towards the more crowded areas of the event, a woman in a mask dressed in a licentious jester's motley blocked her way. The woman cocked her head, "Nosy little devil huh?"
Bellindra wasn't sure if she was digging at her nature of just using an expression, she flashed a disarming smile. "I don't suppose you know where a woman can relieve herself?"
The woman drew a rapier, it glint with more light then what the evening lights were casting upon it, she held it with the grace of an olympic fencer, "If you are looking to relieve yourself of some of that demon blood, I think I can arrange that."
Bellindra put her arms up disarmingly, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm not looking for a fight."
"I am though!" Cried out the fencer as she lunged at Bellindra, it was a graceful jab that would have found purchase in Bellindra if she hadn't stepped aside at the last moment. Catching the woman's arm with a hand wreathed in hellfire. The woman pulled free with surprising strength. He arm was singed but she scarcely paid the injury any heed as she came in for another strike. Bellindra knew this behavior, it's just like when she'd suppress pain and empower her allies to power through their injuries. Except this woman was naturally in this state. Bellindra let out a shrill cry, the sound jostled her assailant to her core, forcing her to recoil as her body recalled what pain was, a barrage of hellfire from the fiend later and the girl's bravado melted to an anguished cry as she dropped to the ground, rolling out the flames. The soulless hulks were starting to move her way, she noticed a shift in the entertainers to her other side, they were beginning to throng her way. Bellindra snatched the fencer's dropped blade, removed her jacket, and leapt the railing, wings sprung from her back as her skin took on a violet tone, horns rose from her head as she stopped suppressing her fiendish nature and flew off.
The second meeting with Devon was far less involved. Meeting at a street corner. Bellindra was back in her goth human disguise, "The whole lot of them is like a spider web writhing with flies all partially drained. From my experience, passion makes the soul burn bright and flare up, makes it easier to sup from the essence. That's why the Carnival, the fear and passion both work to make the crowd susceptible to a sip. I tried getting towards some of the back tents but they started coming at me. Had me pegged as a demon through my disguise.
Devon mulled it over, "I suppose if someone is dealing with souls they'd learn to feel out a demon."
Bellindra nodded, holding out the blade, wrapped in canvas. She handed it over, "Swords of this craftsmanship are not easily made. Even in this day and age, you might find something tracking the source of this down."
Devon took it but shrugged, "Probably another addled craftsman who doesn't remember why they are making these blades or who they are sending them to."
Bellindra cocked her head, "That common?"
Devon nodded, "Not the first time tracing their supplies ended like that."
Bellindra, "The brutes are soulless."
"Tracks with what we've heard."
Bellindra nodded, folding her arms thoughtfully, "And the servants are... hard to described, they are cranked up, pain suppression, adrenaline, these are things I do to comrades in arms in short bursts to help them power through combat. If this is done constantly however, this will greatly shorten their life spans..."
"Their own do tend to turn up dead. It would explain their prowess while they live."
She nodded again, "Honestly the whole thing infuriates me."
Devon glanced at Bellindra a moment, "Not the sort of reaction I expect from a demon."
"Yeah, my recent time on earth has been a whirlwind of new experiences. I don't think I expected to be in this position."
"How do you feel about it though Bellindra?"
"You can't improve if you don't change. I'm happy with where I'm going. I'm not aiming to be anything grand, I'm just living life one step at a time."
Devon smiled faintly, "Not a lot of information, but I think I can get you enough papers to enter the States. Be aware though, if you play loose with the law there you'll regret it in short order."
She nodded, "I'm aware."
