Post by Octavia Valhara Pawn on Apr 9, 2014 1:04:37 GMT -5
Character Image:
Image/Face claim: Anna Subbotina
Name: Octavia Valhara Pawn | Sarah Beth Basker
Gender: Female
Age: 240 (unaging)
Occupation: Seamstress | Enchantress/contract assassin or burglar (also a people collector)
Family: Kian (unborn child,/deceased), Tomaz Pawn (brother, deceased), Rosette Pawn (sister, deceased), Riah Pawn (mother deceased) Rahl Pawn (father, deceased), Miranda Moon (apprentice)
Friends: N/A
Enemies: N/A
Strengths: vicious, relentless, calculating, careful, sly, patient, precise, manipulative, seductive, intelligent, perceptive, master of disguise, ruthless when necessary, cruel, adaptable, confident, acrobatic, agile, skilled in some rather dark magics, steadfast, cool and collected, graceful, walks quietly, great actor, skilled cat burglar and assassin, high stamina, fleet footed, can temporarily absorb another's magical powers in greatly distilled doses through skin contact (much of this will be explained in her history), sets better traps than she fights directly, cannot be killed by most conventional means (poisons and most noxious items have little to no effect on her, when injured her body appears to react as though she were a stuffed doll instead of a flesh and blood being), can be extremely intimidating in her real form (her real body has had several parts replaced with the parts of monsters and mythical beasts), can untangle any knot (extremely useful for those pesky Christmas lights! For anything else, not so much), uncanny balance, skilled with subterranean landscaping/digging, smooth talker, careful listener, good at keeping secrets, greatly loyal to those she is close to, (absorbs some miniscule powers from her magical garments).
Weaknesses: covers her insecurities, malformed fingers (causes her aches and reduces manual dexterity when in her original skin), cowardly, callous, cold, disillusioned to true love, jaded, prone to ill fated fits of conscience/mercy, hates people touching her hands, can seem/be rather lazy, distrusting of others' intentions, somewhat addicted to kidnapping and brainwashing people to use as slaves and minions, arachnophobic but has power over spiders (it drives her mad, spiders tend to follow her and are drawn to her presence like moths to flame which can also give her away when using subterfuge), direct confrontation in combat, weak constitution, low physical strength, extremely protective of her servants, anything shiny, has a weakness for collecting things (particularly human skin), children, vain/insecure to the point of freaking out over even minor blemishes, very easily killed once you know how (can be killed by damaging her heart, inflicting a wound and unravelling her from it, breaking her horns, or destroying her head, burning also sometimes works, you can also wound her by damaging things she has not finished weaving with her magic), medicine and healing magic do not work on her (she has to heal herself in a rather particular fashion due to her magic), extremely flammable when not wearing the skin of a creature with a fire affinity, extremely jealous, possessive, vindictive, anyone who entirely distrusts Octavia is immune to her weaving magic and enchantments and cannot have magic absorbed from them.
Quote: Everything comes at a cost, make sure you know the price before you have to pay.
Personality: Octavia always seems as calm as a gentle breeze and as cool as ice. She is, in her various forms, a woman bent on breaking as many hearts as possible. She finds great sport in betraying lovers and even more in psychologically torturing her victims, though it does get boring after a while. She never does a job by halves and refuses to cut corners on her tasks. She rarely likes to take orders from anyone but she can do so easily. She rarely enjoys being controlled or owing anyone anything but she will do whatever is required
Everything she does has the look of being effortless for her; she has honed her grace, balance, and reflexes to the point that whenever she moves she does so almost like a living work of art. She is well versed in the arts of flirting with body language just as much as words and is equally skilled in enchanting and luring others to her. She has gotten very good at hiding herself and who she is when in disguise, almost always using an alias from a long list of names she's made up or stolen along with the faces she wears.
Octavia is not a simple person to figure out from a distance, she always has an impressive list of ulterior motives for most everything she does. She is very flexible with her time and adaptable to the situations she is in. While she likes to hold the cards she'll happily pretend to hand them over to others to let them think they have more control over her than they truly do. In everything she does she likes to be the one who pulls the strings, especially from the shadows. Whispering venomous half truths twisted to her purposes into the ears of those who hold power is only a pass time to her. While she could potentially cause more than enough chaos and ruination if she got a hold of the right person's ear she wouldn't be likely to do more than ruin relationships and get them to betray those dearest to them as she get rather lazy when she is comfortable.
More often than not she likes pretending to be a bit of a “pet” rather than seeming like someone who does things on their own. She enjoys finding kings and high ranking people who can give her a comfortable life for a while, luring them to her with enchantments, and then having them keep her in a cushy lifestyle until she feels stifled and decides to move on. She can sometimes do this several times within the same kingdom before she moves on to the next, she usually starts with low ranking nobles first before working her way into the favor of those higher up on the social ladder.
Octavia can be very shallow and superficial, she hides every last one of her deepest insecurities under a mask of stone cold confidence and a stringent beauty regimen. She fusses over even minor blemishes and begins to fret needlessly over her beauty/lack thereof. She considers inner beauty to be a lie, especially in regards to herself. She truly doesn't even consider herself attractive in her own skin (even though she could have been once) and because of this she is almost always covering up her physical flaws.
Octavia is a cruel mistress who likes to play mind games and shadow games with others but she loathes being lonely, yet she also loathes almost everyone she meets simply for being born without flaws as terrible as her own. She often becomes extremely vindictive if she feels she is in competition with another woman, she will even go so far as to steal that woman's skin and try to seduce her quarry with the illusions to test their fidelity. Even those that do prove faithful to her often end in misery because of the incident. These tendencies have tempered with time but they can still come through powerfully.
Octavia does not merely practice dark magic, she aims to master it entirely. Her favored arts were not originally ones that a person would consider wicked, she has long twisted them into what they are now; hollow, dark mockeries of the good magics they once were. She delights in twisting many things to be like her, disfigured mockeries of what they could have been. She likes to surround herself with beauty but when it comes to people, anyone prettier than her is very likely to have their flesh stolen from them so that she can obtain that beauty for herself. All too often if she finds someone making her feel belittled in any way she is very likely to make it a mission to destroy their life with a whispering campaign if she isn't blinded by rage enough to go flay every living creature they ever had any inkling of affection for. If one slights her harshly enough they may even be subtly fed those creatures in a mystery stew and later told the ingredients before she vanishes from their life entirely.
Octavia doesn't like to bluff often, if she is going to threaten someone it will likely not be empty. She becomes much more keen on bluffing when frightened or needing a distraction to escape a situation she can't make it out of alone. She is quick to notice slights and will not forgive them nor forget them until she feels she has avenged herself. She will use any trick in her arsenal to get her way and crush her opposition whether her victims know they are her enemies or not.
One thing that remains always able to melt Octavia's icy heart is children. She cannot stand to have them cry or see them harmed and she will never take a contract that requires a child be killed. She will not even turn her head if a child's life is in danger but she most certainly will not go uninvolved. Young children in particular are her greatest soft spot and can easily be used to lure her into a trap.
While she isn't always friendly Octavia is loyal when she does bond closely with others. Once someone has proven they are worth sharing secrets with she will never lie by omission to them or let them be harmed. She is extremely possessive and protective of anything she deems hers, that includes people. She can get extremely jealous, jealous enough to kill if she feels her favor with anyone is jeopardized by another person's presence.
Octavia has an odd fascination with caves and tunnels, she enjoys the variety of glamorous and hidden marvels different environments create underground. She likes to dig as well, often searching out small crystals to use and gemstones in some places to keep or sell for more luxurious things. Most of her personal lairs all over could be found in caves or deep underground. She is particularly fond of shaping rock faces with her magic and reweaving the stones into her own shapes and designs.
History: Octavia was born to a semi normal family of poor folk. She grew up dreaming of a life in a palace filled with riches. Such daydreams, when uttered to her family, was met with brutal violence however. Much of her life went on this way, because of the disfiguring flaws she was born with in her hands and ears she was only kept in their home because her parents feared the consequences of discarding the child.
She grew up belittled and betrayed by many, including many pretending friends. She always felt like the butt of everyone else's jokes because of her physical imperfections. No matter how kind or good she was people feared her and many more hated her. Her family continually exacerbated the problems of her self esteem and self worth, finding any excuse they could to reprimand Octavia while her other two siblings seemed far more loved than her and even teased her themselves.
Her brother Tomaz was the cruelest tormenter she ever faced, not even second to her own father. Her brother took twisted delight in forcing Octavia to do anything and everything she didn't want to do. He used every trick he could, even blackmail to force her into doing things he knew she would not only be caught doing but get in severe trouble for. The years wore on with him controlling her this way until one night he pushed the line even further.
He swore that if she told anyone he would kill her and reminded her that nobody would miss her. She lived in absolute terror of him from that point on until finally she ran away when she was but a teenager. Tomaz found her and dragged her back home by her hair, beating her and cursing her until he left her to die in the field just outside their door.
She woke some time later in a stranger's home and for the first time felt kindness and love. The elderly weaver took Octavia in and raised her as if Octavia had been her own daughter all along. The woman had lost her husband and unborn child long ago and treated Octavia's presence as a true blessing. Slowly the weaver's kindness began to balm the wounds that were less physical. The weaver was much more than a simple seamstress, she was a witch who knew many minor magics to make her work easier. She imparted her knowledge of knot magic quite thoroughly to Octavia who showed an interest in learning. Octavia learned many other simple skills from the seamstress and always looked after her adoptive parent but time couldn't be on her side forever. The old witch grew less able to care for her every day.
It was several years after Octavia had been adopted that she ran into her brother again. As the witch had weakened Octavia took to tending the house and groceries, she became the one who took the trips into town with heavy scarves over her head and long sleeves that covered her hands. He spotted her in the crowd at the local marketplace and followed her back to her home. He waited and stalked her for days until she left again. Whatever happiness she had was brutally wrenched for her when she went to the market again. She returned home to find the old witch slain and her brother waiting for her.
The years had changed them both plenty. While Octavia had been healing and learning her crafts he had become a soldier of great merit and strength. She tried to defend herself but the simple magics the witch had taught her were not strong enough to keep him at bay. He forced her to bend to his will all over again. She waited until he had bound her in place and let him have the illusion of power before she reared her magic one last time and strangled him to death with the cords he thought he had tied well. She took such vile delight in watching him die while shocked to find himself helpless against her.
She would not end there. She kept his body and flayed him as the seamstress had taught her to do to animals so as to keep the furs for winter. This time instead of using the simple magic she began to work it in ways it was not meant for. She sewed his flesh over her own and broke and altered her bones with the weaving magics until she filled his skin with her own form. She had his face, his body. For a moment she was him and she felt disgusted by the very thought but it was necessary to accomplish what she would do. Her toiling with the magics in her brother's flesh began to quickly degrade and she did not have much time before his skin simply fell apart and left her revealed.
She went to her parents' home wearing her brother's face and lulled them into security. She gained their suspicion easily but they had let the game go too far already. As they turned in for the night Octavia began working the magic again. The screams were quickly muffled as she made their own bed cloths strangle and suffocate them. She smiled and fell asleep in the stillness of the house. She awoke with her brother's skin split away from her like rotten leather. She made a note that next time she would have to find a way to better preserve the flesh without treating it like leather.
She returned to her own home to gather her belongings after burning her birth home to ash. She fled her land for a place far far away where she would be enigma to the people there. She had hoped it would be the last time cruelty would appear in her life, she only wanted solitude and peace with possibly a hand full of friends. She didn't believe she'd find love but eventually she did. She spent many a day in the company of the young man she fancied only to find out he fancied someone far prettier than she. In a fit of jealous rage Octavia tracked the other woman down and skinned her alive, the remaining skin she hung across a skein and left to dry as any other hide the tanner had. Once again she fled the home she had made for herself.
As she immersed herself in learning magic from any tome or scroll that she could find she began to twist herself and her being irrevocably into something far less than human. Many of her wounds stopped bleeding after so many years, instead appearing as a tear in fabric would. She began to test these odd reactions by subjecting herself to immense amounts of pain and minor injury. She found the more she twisted the magic she'd learned from the weaver, the more it in turn twisted her.
She found that no matter what horrible pains she subjected herself to for the most part she was incapable of truly wounding herself in most of her extremities. She also found that only she could fix the rips she created in her being, medicine and healing magics no longer worked upon the mockery of her flesh. She learned how to repair herself from injury in these fashions at amazing speed when she discovered that if a wound was opened and a thread of it caught her entire being began to unravel.
She eventually learned how she could use the skins of her victims almost indefinitely with the proper upkeep. She had to keep the victim alive in the same fashion as her twisted magic kept her so very close to immortality. It was but dancing upon the edge of it however, like a drop in the ocean she could not fathom the true power she played with. Knot magic is a powerful magic indeed but it can also be dangerous when used for dark purposes. She played too much and altered herself permanently, in losing the last vestige of her humanity she grieved. She was little better than a magical, living doll now and she could never return to the way she was.
She began collecting skin from corpses to sate her dark desires to learn more about the magic's uses on human skin. She even took enough of a liking to working with human flesh as to tan it and use as upholstery for her little lairs each time she moved to a new land. As she traveled more and more she began hunting less human prey for skins and targeted beasts of every kind.
Her undertakings had begun with great guilt, time had taught her not to begrudge herself her desires and dulled the voice of conscience like a sword left to rust in the rain. The more monstrous she felt herself to be when she had begun the more she would hunt to quiet the sickening urge to kill. She grew cold and callous over the years, adding the parts of monsters she'd defeated into her own being. While she gained no powers from such additions to her body beyond the immediately physical functionality they might have (dragon scales and talons for instance).
She spent years making herself a perfectly monstrous tapestry until only her heart remained human. The very last scrap of her own humanity was all she had left. Instead of replacing it as she had almost everything else of herself she clung to it desperately. She wanted a happy ending despite everything she was and all she had done. She hid herself in the flesh of others, always a ghost and barely a whisper wherever she went.
She took to people quite easily when they knew nothing of what or who she was. She learned the language of well aimed whispers, the subtle art of implication and omission, and as well the power of lust. She began shaping herself into the images she wished to imitate. Her acting skills became increasingly better until they were almost flawless and she took her false skins off less and less. She eventually found that human skins were frail and far less able to withstand such routines. She found herself quickly burning through her disguises as she refused to take them off and let the souls in the living flesh rest from the strain of being woven into her, the magic was too dark for mere mortal skin to handle on such a basis.
She soon settled into alternating skins, lives, and identities. It was not uncommon for her to lead seven different lives almost simultaneously without notice from others. She eventually fell in love again, while wearing the skin of a very beautiful maiden. They were ready to elope, especially when she shared the news she was with child to her lover. As they made ready to run she felt it was time he knew the truth, she split the skin she wore and revealed herself for what she was to him. His love had not been true enough, he attacked her and ripped a knife through her gut before she could defend herself against him. She felt her child's life unravel instantly and the loss was too much. She was not human enough for him anymore. She strangled her beloved with the unwinding skeins of her own body and carefully rebound herself only to find some of the wounds were truly irreparable.
Her heart was missing pieces, the last of her humanity she felt had slipped away with such heartbreak. She grieved hard for many years and hid away from the world as she found every scrap of cloth she could use to patch up the broken heart that her magic had finally begun to take root in. She tried using pieces from other hearts only to find they would rot within seconds of contact with her own poisonous one.
The years were not kind to Octavia but she became strong again in her own way, eventually learning the art of enchantment and bending others to her will with glamours and charms. She expanded her magical repertoire and learned even darker magics while continuing on her path of twisting herself until she was barely even passable as partially human in her own skin. No matter how short she had hoped her existence as a gnarled mockery of life would be, it wasn't. She lived for years passed when she should have aged and then withered away.
She took to following her childhood dream of making her way into the palaces, mansions, and castles and living in luxury. Albeit she lived quite vicariously, through the wealth of people she either seduced or ensorcelled to let her in. She frittered away most of her time between exercising her magic on her current beneficiary and lazing about with stories and maps.
A century passed and she simply shuffled on through her multiple lives on the edges of the kingdoms and courts, often returning to a kingdom after one monarch died and new heir claimed the throne. It was becoming droll and she felt it a strain to get out of bed. Her existence became increasingly miserable and ones sided as she grew lonelier within even while her enchanted prey sought to soothe her. She still never quite worked up the courage to try and kill herself to end her existence though.
An endless cycle of doldrums she almost doomed herself to until she realized how much more she could do to keep herself amused in the endless years of her strange life. She took to hunting beasts for an entirely new purpose, clothes. Not just any clothes, garments that would provide her a way to absorb the powers of the beasts she wore. Wherever she went she found she soaked up minor pieces of magic from others (who possessed it) when she made skin contact with them. After a fashion it was almost like a hand rag soaking up a small few drops of the ocean but the revelation proved quite useful. It was all the knowledge she needed to truly begin her work. She crafted a garment of preserved dragon skin and stolen phoenix feathers, binding the beasts' souls into their very flesh as she had done with countless humans before them. That was power, she glowed with pride as she welcomed her new companions into her being.
Being able to breathe fire wasn't a bad trick she thought, being able to resist it was even better; it was most useful when one found themselves rather wont to light up like dry parchment at the merest lick of flames unless they took the care to avoid candles and rub themselves with fire retardant ointments. She made no other outfits for herself as she found her original the most useful to ward away that particular bane of her thin existence.
Time wore on in a marching drum of monotony and she slithered through the motions of life as always, a familiar ache creeping into her heart slowly. She settled into yet another kingdom and flitted about as a shadow of his court, taking a liking to the queen's personal seamstress. With a few bittersweet promises and some begrudging help from the girl, Miranda, Octavia bound a unicorn into a pair of gloves. She wove them into Miranda's being and unwound the girl's humanity as she had her own. It was a different change than Octavia's transformation and far kinder on the girl. She kept her new creation close, nurturing the girl as she had longed to be for too many years. A semblance of joy slowly crept back into her existence and she avoided too much cruelty in front of her new apprentice.
The problem was that Miranda turned out to be much more powerful than Octavia with her magic. Where some of Octavia's magic required some form of trust to work upon another Miranda could dazzle her way around almost anyone she met. It seemed the difference was somewhere between the wearer and the garments but Octavia found Miranda's almost complete lack of control over her magic be the saving grace against her jealousy.
She spent many years traveling with her jovial and abominably naive apprentice, teaching her the crafts and magics she knew the girl had the heart to handle. She seemed to excel in her own pursuits as well and Octavia encouraged Miranda's studies of less questionable arts. It hadn't been long before Octavia considered Miranda to be family. As Miranda grew stronger and refined her power Octavia found herself quietly seething at the thought that she might one day have to fight and kill Miranda as well.
But how to avoid hurting someone you cared about even if they wanted to hurt you? Octavia plotted and schemed and finally found a way to settle the issue. She could use Miranda's own nature against her. She asked for a piece of Miranda's heart and some hair which she rewove into a tiny doll and put into her pocket, a single straight needle serving as a horn in the newly made string doll. She then unwound a part of her heart and used her own hair to fashion a miniature doll of herself for Miranda to have.
Upon those dolls they each swore to protect the other's lives and Octavia bound Miranda's oath into the doll she had made of her apprentice. Octavia, however, did not bind her personal oath into her doll, leaving herself holding the only charm that truly worked. Instead, into her doll Octavia bound Miranda's life with her own heart. If Miranda ever found someone to destroy her she would take her apprentice with her. Somewhat satisfied with her work Octavia and Miranda wandered on in careful companionship through several more years. Over time Miranda began talking Octavia out of ensorcelling victims into letting them have their way. Miranda never asked Octavia what she did when she left after they began making their own lairs underground. Octavia never bothered to let her know how she got anything she brought back while she was away, she was content to take care of Miranda as she'd bespelled others to do for her for now.
Likes: sewing, weaving, taxidermy, skin, flaying, leather, playing mind games, destroying people she feels are prettier than her, lazing about in luxury, children.
Dislikes: people being prettier than her, not getting her way, people whom she can't manipulate, being confronted, loudly angry people, letting slights go unpunished.
Roleplay Example: Can be an old roleplay.
Lastly... Where did you hear about us? TYOS which I shut down lol
Image/Face claim: Anna Subbotina
Name: Octavia Valhara Pawn | Sarah Beth Basker
Gender: Female
Age: 240 (unaging)
Occupation: Seamstress | Enchantress/contract assassin or burglar (also a people collector)
Family: Kian (unborn child,/deceased), Tomaz Pawn (brother, deceased), Rosette Pawn (sister, deceased), Riah Pawn (mother deceased) Rahl Pawn (father, deceased), Miranda Moon (apprentice)
Friends: N/A
Enemies: N/A
Strengths: vicious, relentless, calculating, careful, sly, patient, precise, manipulative, seductive, intelligent, perceptive, master of disguise, ruthless when necessary, cruel, adaptable, confident, acrobatic, agile, skilled in some rather dark magics, steadfast, cool and collected, graceful, walks quietly, great actor, skilled cat burglar and assassin, high stamina, fleet footed, can temporarily absorb another's magical powers in greatly distilled doses through skin contact (much of this will be explained in her history), sets better traps than she fights directly, cannot be killed by most conventional means (poisons and most noxious items have little to no effect on her, when injured her body appears to react as though she were a stuffed doll instead of a flesh and blood being), can be extremely intimidating in her real form (her real body has had several parts replaced with the parts of monsters and mythical beasts), can untangle any knot (extremely useful for those pesky Christmas lights! For anything else, not so much), uncanny balance, skilled with subterranean landscaping/digging, smooth talker, careful listener, good at keeping secrets, greatly loyal to those she is close to, (absorbs some miniscule powers from her magical garments).
Weaknesses: covers her insecurities, malformed fingers (causes her aches and reduces manual dexterity when in her original skin), cowardly, callous, cold, disillusioned to true love, jaded, prone to ill fated fits of conscience/mercy, hates people touching her hands, can seem/be rather lazy, distrusting of others' intentions, somewhat addicted to kidnapping and brainwashing people to use as slaves and minions, arachnophobic but has power over spiders (it drives her mad, spiders tend to follow her and are drawn to her presence like moths to flame which can also give her away when using subterfuge), direct confrontation in combat, weak constitution, low physical strength, extremely protective of her servants, anything shiny, has a weakness for collecting things (particularly human skin), children, vain/insecure to the point of freaking out over even minor blemishes, very easily killed once you know how (can be killed by damaging her heart, inflicting a wound and unravelling her from it, breaking her horns, or destroying her head, burning also sometimes works, you can also wound her by damaging things she has not finished weaving with her magic), medicine and healing magic do not work on her (she has to heal herself in a rather particular fashion due to her magic), extremely flammable when not wearing the skin of a creature with a fire affinity, extremely jealous, possessive, vindictive, anyone who entirely distrusts Octavia is immune to her weaving magic and enchantments and cannot have magic absorbed from them.
Quote: Everything comes at a cost, make sure you know the price before you have to pay.
Personality: Octavia always seems as calm as a gentle breeze and as cool as ice. She is, in her various forms, a woman bent on breaking as many hearts as possible. She finds great sport in betraying lovers and even more in psychologically torturing her victims, though it does get boring after a while. She never does a job by halves and refuses to cut corners on her tasks. She rarely likes to take orders from anyone but she can do so easily. She rarely enjoys being controlled or owing anyone anything but she will do whatever is required
Everything she does has the look of being effortless for her; she has honed her grace, balance, and reflexes to the point that whenever she moves she does so almost like a living work of art. She is well versed in the arts of flirting with body language just as much as words and is equally skilled in enchanting and luring others to her. She has gotten very good at hiding herself and who she is when in disguise, almost always using an alias from a long list of names she's made up or stolen along with the faces she wears.
Octavia is not a simple person to figure out from a distance, she always has an impressive list of ulterior motives for most everything she does. She is very flexible with her time and adaptable to the situations she is in. While she likes to hold the cards she'll happily pretend to hand them over to others to let them think they have more control over her than they truly do. In everything she does she likes to be the one who pulls the strings, especially from the shadows. Whispering venomous half truths twisted to her purposes into the ears of those who hold power is only a pass time to her. While she could potentially cause more than enough chaos and ruination if she got a hold of the right person's ear she wouldn't be likely to do more than ruin relationships and get them to betray those dearest to them as she get rather lazy when she is comfortable.
More often than not she likes pretending to be a bit of a “pet” rather than seeming like someone who does things on their own. She enjoys finding kings and high ranking people who can give her a comfortable life for a while, luring them to her with enchantments, and then having them keep her in a cushy lifestyle until she feels stifled and decides to move on. She can sometimes do this several times within the same kingdom before she moves on to the next, she usually starts with low ranking nobles first before working her way into the favor of those higher up on the social ladder.
Octavia can be very shallow and superficial, she hides every last one of her deepest insecurities under a mask of stone cold confidence and a stringent beauty regimen. She fusses over even minor blemishes and begins to fret needlessly over her beauty/lack thereof. She considers inner beauty to be a lie, especially in regards to herself. She truly doesn't even consider herself attractive in her own skin (even though she could have been once) and because of this she is almost always covering up her physical flaws.
Octavia is a cruel mistress who likes to play mind games and shadow games with others but she loathes being lonely, yet she also loathes almost everyone she meets simply for being born without flaws as terrible as her own. She often becomes extremely vindictive if she feels she is in competition with another woman, she will even go so far as to steal that woman's skin and try to seduce her quarry with the illusions to test their fidelity. Even those that do prove faithful to her often end in misery because of the incident. These tendencies have tempered with time but they can still come through powerfully.
Octavia does not merely practice dark magic, she aims to master it entirely. Her favored arts were not originally ones that a person would consider wicked, she has long twisted them into what they are now; hollow, dark mockeries of the good magics they once were. She delights in twisting many things to be like her, disfigured mockeries of what they could have been. She likes to surround herself with beauty but when it comes to people, anyone prettier than her is very likely to have their flesh stolen from them so that she can obtain that beauty for herself. All too often if she finds someone making her feel belittled in any way she is very likely to make it a mission to destroy their life with a whispering campaign if she isn't blinded by rage enough to go flay every living creature they ever had any inkling of affection for. If one slights her harshly enough they may even be subtly fed those creatures in a mystery stew and later told the ingredients before she vanishes from their life entirely.
Octavia doesn't like to bluff often, if she is going to threaten someone it will likely not be empty. She becomes much more keen on bluffing when frightened or needing a distraction to escape a situation she can't make it out of alone. She is quick to notice slights and will not forgive them nor forget them until she feels she has avenged herself. She will use any trick in her arsenal to get her way and crush her opposition whether her victims know they are her enemies or not.
One thing that remains always able to melt Octavia's icy heart is children. She cannot stand to have them cry or see them harmed and she will never take a contract that requires a child be killed. She will not even turn her head if a child's life is in danger but she most certainly will not go uninvolved. Young children in particular are her greatest soft spot and can easily be used to lure her into a trap.
While she isn't always friendly Octavia is loyal when she does bond closely with others. Once someone has proven they are worth sharing secrets with she will never lie by omission to them or let them be harmed. She is extremely possessive and protective of anything she deems hers, that includes people. She can get extremely jealous, jealous enough to kill if she feels her favor with anyone is jeopardized by another person's presence.
Octavia has an odd fascination with caves and tunnels, she enjoys the variety of glamorous and hidden marvels different environments create underground. She likes to dig as well, often searching out small crystals to use and gemstones in some places to keep or sell for more luxurious things. Most of her personal lairs all over could be found in caves or deep underground. She is particularly fond of shaping rock faces with her magic and reweaving the stones into her own shapes and designs.
History: Octavia was born to a semi normal family of poor folk. She grew up dreaming of a life in a palace filled with riches. Such daydreams, when uttered to her family, was met with brutal violence however. Much of her life went on this way, because of the disfiguring flaws she was born with in her hands and ears she was only kept in their home because her parents feared the consequences of discarding the child.
She grew up belittled and betrayed by many, including many pretending friends. She always felt like the butt of everyone else's jokes because of her physical imperfections. No matter how kind or good she was people feared her and many more hated her. Her family continually exacerbated the problems of her self esteem and self worth, finding any excuse they could to reprimand Octavia while her other two siblings seemed far more loved than her and even teased her themselves.
Her brother Tomaz was the cruelest tormenter she ever faced, not even second to her own father. Her brother took twisted delight in forcing Octavia to do anything and everything she didn't want to do. He used every trick he could, even blackmail to force her into doing things he knew she would not only be caught doing but get in severe trouble for. The years wore on with him controlling her this way until one night he pushed the line even further.
He swore that if she told anyone he would kill her and reminded her that nobody would miss her. She lived in absolute terror of him from that point on until finally she ran away when she was but a teenager. Tomaz found her and dragged her back home by her hair, beating her and cursing her until he left her to die in the field just outside their door.
She woke some time later in a stranger's home and for the first time felt kindness and love. The elderly weaver took Octavia in and raised her as if Octavia had been her own daughter all along. The woman had lost her husband and unborn child long ago and treated Octavia's presence as a true blessing. Slowly the weaver's kindness began to balm the wounds that were less physical. The weaver was much more than a simple seamstress, she was a witch who knew many minor magics to make her work easier. She imparted her knowledge of knot magic quite thoroughly to Octavia who showed an interest in learning. Octavia learned many other simple skills from the seamstress and always looked after her adoptive parent but time couldn't be on her side forever. The old witch grew less able to care for her every day.
It was several years after Octavia had been adopted that she ran into her brother again. As the witch had weakened Octavia took to tending the house and groceries, she became the one who took the trips into town with heavy scarves over her head and long sleeves that covered her hands. He spotted her in the crowd at the local marketplace and followed her back to her home. He waited and stalked her for days until she left again. Whatever happiness she had was brutally wrenched for her when she went to the market again. She returned home to find the old witch slain and her brother waiting for her.
The years had changed them both plenty. While Octavia had been healing and learning her crafts he had become a soldier of great merit and strength. She tried to defend herself but the simple magics the witch had taught her were not strong enough to keep him at bay. He forced her to bend to his will all over again. She waited until he had bound her in place and let him have the illusion of power before she reared her magic one last time and strangled him to death with the cords he thought he had tied well. She took such vile delight in watching him die while shocked to find himself helpless against her.
She would not end there. She kept his body and flayed him as the seamstress had taught her to do to animals so as to keep the furs for winter. This time instead of using the simple magic she began to work it in ways it was not meant for. She sewed his flesh over her own and broke and altered her bones with the weaving magics until she filled his skin with her own form. She had his face, his body. For a moment she was him and she felt disgusted by the very thought but it was necessary to accomplish what she would do. Her toiling with the magics in her brother's flesh began to quickly degrade and she did not have much time before his skin simply fell apart and left her revealed.
She went to her parents' home wearing her brother's face and lulled them into security. She gained their suspicion easily but they had let the game go too far already. As they turned in for the night Octavia began working the magic again. The screams were quickly muffled as she made their own bed cloths strangle and suffocate them. She smiled and fell asleep in the stillness of the house. She awoke with her brother's skin split away from her like rotten leather. She made a note that next time she would have to find a way to better preserve the flesh without treating it like leather.
She returned to her own home to gather her belongings after burning her birth home to ash. She fled her land for a place far far away where she would be enigma to the people there. She had hoped it would be the last time cruelty would appear in her life, she only wanted solitude and peace with possibly a hand full of friends. She didn't believe she'd find love but eventually she did. She spent many a day in the company of the young man she fancied only to find out he fancied someone far prettier than she. In a fit of jealous rage Octavia tracked the other woman down and skinned her alive, the remaining skin she hung across a skein and left to dry as any other hide the tanner had. Once again she fled the home she had made for herself.
As she immersed herself in learning magic from any tome or scroll that she could find she began to twist herself and her being irrevocably into something far less than human. Many of her wounds stopped bleeding after so many years, instead appearing as a tear in fabric would. She began to test these odd reactions by subjecting herself to immense amounts of pain and minor injury. She found the more she twisted the magic she'd learned from the weaver, the more it in turn twisted her.
She found that no matter what horrible pains she subjected herself to for the most part she was incapable of truly wounding herself in most of her extremities. She also found that only she could fix the rips she created in her being, medicine and healing magics no longer worked upon the mockery of her flesh. She learned how to repair herself from injury in these fashions at amazing speed when she discovered that if a wound was opened and a thread of it caught her entire being began to unravel.
She eventually learned how she could use the skins of her victims almost indefinitely with the proper upkeep. She had to keep the victim alive in the same fashion as her twisted magic kept her so very close to immortality. It was but dancing upon the edge of it however, like a drop in the ocean she could not fathom the true power she played with. Knot magic is a powerful magic indeed but it can also be dangerous when used for dark purposes. She played too much and altered herself permanently, in losing the last vestige of her humanity she grieved. She was little better than a magical, living doll now and she could never return to the way she was.
She began collecting skin from corpses to sate her dark desires to learn more about the magic's uses on human skin. She even took enough of a liking to working with human flesh as to tan it and use as upholstery for her little lairs each time she moved to a new land. As she traveled more and more she began hunting less human prey for skins and targeted beasts of every kind.
Her undertakings had begun with great guilt, time had taught her not to begrudge herself her desires and dulled the voice of conscience like a sword left to rust in the rain. The more monstrous she felt herself to be when she had begun the more she would hunt to quiet the sickening urge to kill. She grew cold and callous over the years, adding the parts of monsters she'd defeated into her own being. While she gained no powers from such additions to her body beyond the immediately physical functionality they might have (dragon scales and talons for instance).
She spent years making herself a perfectly monstrous tapestry until only her heart remained human. The very last scrap of her own humanity was all she had left. Instead of replacing it as she had almost everything else of herself she clung to it desperately. She wanted a happy ending despite everything she was and all she had done. She hid herself in the flesh of others, always a ghost and barely a whisper wherever she went.
She took to people quite easily when they knew nothing of what or who she was. She learned the language of well aimed whispers, the subtle art of implication and omission, and as well the power of lust. She began shaping herself into the images she wished to imitate. Her acting skills became increasingly better until they were almost flawless and she took her false skins off less and less. She eventually found that human skins were frail and far less able to withstand such routines. She found herself quickly burning through her disguises as she refused to take them off and let the souls in the living flesh rest from the strain of being woven into her, the magic was too dark for mere mortal skin to handle on such a basis.
She soon settled into alternating skins, lives, and identities. It was not uncommon for her to lead seven different lives almost simultaneously without notice from others. She eventually fell in love again, while wearing the skin of a very beautiful maiden. They were ready to elope, especially when she shared the news she was with child to her lover. As they made ready to run she felt it was time he knew the truth, she split the skin she wore and revealed herself for what she was to him. His love had not been true enough, he attacked her and ripped a knife through her gut before she could defend herself against him. She felt her child's life unravel instantly and the loss was too much. She was not human enough for him anymore. She strangled her beloved with the unwinding skeins of her own body and carefully rebound herself only to find some of the wounds were truly irreparable.
Her heart was missing pieces, the last of her humanity she felt had slipped away with such heartbreak. She grieved hard for many years and hid away from the world as she found every scrap of cloth she could use to patch up the broken heart that her magic had finally begun to take root in. She tried using pieces from other hearts only to find they would rot within seconds of contact with her own poisonous one.
The years were not kind to Octavia but she became strong again in her own way, eventually learning the art of enchantment and bending others to her will with glamours and charms. She expanded her magical repertoire and learned even darker magics while continuing on her path of twisting herself until she was barely even passable as partially human in her own skin. No matter how short she had hoped her existence as a gnarled mockery of life would be, it wasn't. She lived for years passed when she should have aged and then withered away.
She took to following her childhood dream of making her way into the palaces, mansions, and castles and living in luxury. Albeit she lived quite vicariously, through the wealth of people she either seduced or ensorcelled to let her in. She frittered away most of her time between exercising her magic on her current beneficiary and lazing about with stories and maps.
A century passed and she simply shuffled on through her multiple lives on the edges of the kingdoms and courts, often returning to a kingdom after one monarch died and new heir claimed the throne. It was becoming droll and she felt it a strain to get out of bed. Her existence became increasingly miserable and ones sided as she grew lonelier within even while her enchanted prey sought to soothe her. She still never quite worked up the courage to try and kill herself to end her existence though.
An endless cycle of doldrums she almost doomed herself to until she realized how much more she could do to keep herself amused in the endless years of her strange life. She took to hunting beasts for an entirely new purpose, clothes. Not just any clothes, garments that would provide her a way to absorb the powers of the beasts she wore. Wherever she went she found she soaked up minor pieces of magic from others (who possessed it) when she made skin contact with them. After a fashion it was almost like a hand rag soaking up a small few drops of the ocean but the revelation proved quite useful. It was all the knowledge she needed to truly begin her work. She crafted a garment of preserved dragon skin and stolen phoenix feathers, binding the beasts' souls into their very flesh as she had done with countless humans before them. That was power, she glowed with pride as she welcomed her new companions into her being.
Being able to breathe fire wasn't a bad trick she thought, being able to resist it was even better; it was most useful when one found themselves rather wont to light up like dry parchment at the merest lick of flames unless they took the care to avoid candles and rub themselves with fire retardant ointments. She made no other outfits for herself as she found her original the most useful to ward away that particular bane of her thin existence.
Time wore on in a marching drum of monotony and she slithered through the motions of life as always, a familiar ache creeping into her heart slowly. She settled into yet another kingdom and flitted about as a shadow of his court, taking a liking to the queen's personal seamstress. With a few bittersweet promises and some begrudging help from the girl, Miranda, Octavia bound a unicorn into a pair of gloves. She wove them into Miranda's being and unwound the girl's humanity as she had her own. It was a different change than Octavia's transformation and far kinder on the girl. She kept her new creation close, nurturing the girl as she had longed to be for too many years. A semblance of joy slowly crept back into her existence and she avoided too much cruelty in front of her new apprentice.
The problem was that Miranda turned out to be much more powerful than Octavia with her magic. Where some of Octavia's magic required some form of trust to work upon another Miranda could dazzle her way around almost anyone she met. It seemed the difference was somewhere between the wearer and the garments but Octavia found Miranda's almost complete lack of control over her magic be the saving grace against her jealousy.
She spent many years traveling with her jovial and abominably naive apprentice, teaching her the crafts and magics she knew the girl had the heart to handle. She seemed to excel in her own pursuits as well and Octavia encouraged Miranda's studies of less questionable arts. It hadn't been long before Octavia considered Miranda to be family. As Miranda grew stronger and refined her power Octavia found herself quietly seething at the thought that she might one day have to fight and kill Miranda as well.
But how to avoid hurting someone you cared about even if they wanted to hurt you? Octavia plotted and schemed and finally found a way to settle the issue. She could use Miranda's own nature against her. She asked for a piece of Miranda's heart and some hair which she rewove into a tiny doll and put into her pocket, a single straight needle serving as a horn in the newly made string doll. She then unwound a part of her heart and used her own hair to fashion a miniature doll of herself for Miranda to have.
Upon those dolls they each swore to protect the other's lives and Octavia bound Miranda's oath into the doll she had made of her apprentice. Octavia, however, did not bind her personal oath into her doll, leaving herself holding the only charm that truly worked. Instead, into her doll Octavia bound Miranda's life with her own heart. If Miranda ever found someone to destroy her she would take her apprentice with her. Somewhat satisfied with her work Octavia and Miranda wandered on in careful companionship through several more years. Over time Miranda began talking Octavia out of ensorcelling victims into letting them have their way. Miranda never asked Octavia what she did when she left after they began making their own lairs underground. Octavia never bothered to let her know how she got anything she brought back while she was away, she was content to take care of Miranda as she'd bespelled others to do for her for now.
Likes: sewing, weaving, taxidermy, skin, flaying, leather, playing mind games, destroying people she feels are prettier than her, lazing about in luxury, children.
Dislikes: people being prettier than her, not getting her way, people whom she can't manipulate, being confronted, loudly angry people, letting slights go unpunished.
Roleplay Example: Can be an old roleplay.
A shadow swept across the field and the witch went scurrying behind the headstone as someone approached. A human, a human, A HUMAN! She ducked and curled before he had a chance to get close. Delicate hands quickly coiled into a digger's pose and she scooped at the dirt furiously to coil in a shallow dent she'd made. For what little good it would actually do if they had a light or sharp eyes it felt safe. At least she was clad in dark clothes, they resembled a school uniform of sorts but she couldn't be entirely sure, she'd taken the outfit with the skin. Her breathing eased even as her chest constricted while the soft crunch of footsteps drew nearer. How close was this intruder? Where would they be stopping? Would they pass her by? Please let them pass by her without noticing her. The footsteps halted as did her breath when she realized how close the person was. She had to know just how close.
A pair of dulled mahogany eyes peeked at him from her hiding place. Another rustle came from behind the tombstone as her head peered around tentatively. Those eyes blinked at him owlishly as the witch's pulse rocketed yet again to catch crimson orbs staring directly into her own. A soft keening rose in her throat that she just couldn't stifle. She'd been caught, they'd come after the corpse stealing 'demon' for sure now wouldn't they? Up until they found out she was a witch but even then who would dare let one such as her exist in peace? She'd have to kill him or run away now and changer her- dark eyes swept over him and her thoughts rushed in a far different direction. People who patrolled graveyards at night, let alone the grounds keepers, did not carry shovels to dig the corpses up again when no one else was around. Who would he tell? He'd have to explain why he was in the graveyard with a shovel at this hour himself if he was to convince anyone of her presence and wrong doing. Therefore for this moment they could have an agreement to simply not bother each other's work. He was quite obviously here for the same purpose as her.
She stared at him, adjusting round glasses on a much more youthful looking face than was true to her age, even as a witch. Her 'disguise' was that of a far younger woman who's skin she'd stolen long ago. Long braids slithered over her shoulders as she leaned to inspect him with cool curiosity. He was going to be digging up the grave she wanted. She sniffed with distrust and wrinkled her nose at the sharp dressed man who dared disturb her target. "This one is mine. Go get your own grave. There's plenty more." She scowled at him and made a shooing motion with one hand as if he'd simply go away with her desire. If he wanted to get violent she could do so as well. He was likely just a regular human as it were. If he was here for plunder he could have it, she just wanted the skin. She sniffed again and stared him down unassuaged by such a thought that he would be so willing to leave. "If you want to loot it that's fine. Just leave me the skin."
A pair of dulled mahogany eyes peeked at him from her hiding place. Another rustle came from behind the tombstone as her head peered around tentatively. Those eyes blinked at him owlishly as the witch's pulse rocketed yet again to catch crimson orbs staring directly into her own. A soft keening rose in her throat that she just couldn't stifle. She'd been caught, they'd come after the corpse stealing 'demon' for sure now wouldn't they? Up until they found out she was a witch but even then who would dare let one such as her exist in peace? She'd have to kill him or run away now and changer her- dark eyes swept over him and her thoughts rushed in a far different direction. People who patrolled graveyards at night, let alone the grounds keepers, did not carry shovels to dig the corpses up again when no one else was around. Who would he tell? He'd have to explain why he was in the graveyard with a shovel at this hour himself if he was to convince anyone of her presence and wrong doing. Therefore for this moment they could have an agreement to simply not bother each other's work. He was quite obviously here for the same purpose as her.
She stared at him, adjusting round glasses on a much more youthful looking face than was true to her age, even as a witch. Her 'disguise' was that of a far younger woman who's skin she'd stolen long ago. Long braids slithered over her shoulders as she leaned to inspect him with cool curiosity. He was going to be digging up the grave she wanted. She sniffed with distrust and wrinkled her nose at the sharp dressed man who dared disturb her target. "This one is mine. Go get your own grave. There's plenty more." She scowled at him and made a shooing motion with one hand as if he'd simply go away with her desire. If he wanted to get violent she could do so as well. He was likely just a regular human as it were. If he was here for plunder he could have it, she just wanted the skin. She sniffed again and stared him down unassuaged by such a thought that he would be so willing to leave. "If you want to loot it that's fine. Just leave me the skin."
Lastly... Where did you hear about us? TYOS which I shut down lol