((Okay, first of all, I want to warn anyone tuning in for the first time that this is not how to make a character directory post. For references, look up. Or down. But not at me.))
I've been here for...a while now. The nautilus slowly grows.
A gateway, a massive arc of featureless white catching the eternal sun. Beyond the arc, scrub forests give way to seaside cliffs and beaches, antarctic waters, beneath it the glass and plastic domes of my house.
I am Yone, Wonderworker of the Wheel, and I claim this directory post as my own!
I had more names before, 'Reyezuela Reindhez Gonzales', but this all started because I don't get along with my family.
Aliases are something I have no need for, not yet.
The Gender: field here is filled in with 'Woman'. Species: Vasoril The body I have now is female, and so was the one I had before.
No point in getting all bent out of shape about it like some people.
But 'coeurl' might be more helpful to you. A big cat with tentacled shoulders. Long neck. Horns.
Or maybe 'fairy' would be more important?
No elves and goblins here; those are left for the Earth Court. We stick to the same ancestral form we've always had.
'Alignment' From monogrammed pillows and little signs, one can extract a Lawful Neutral
If you were rooting around in journals, letters, and private papers, you would find the writer's outlook to be White (Black secondary)
Buried in the bottom of a cabinet, medical papers would confirm a B Blood Type (from some time ago when she dwelt in a human body)
In the study, astrological charts showing false-stars never seen here would show a birth under the Sign of the Lovers
These places had
We're ageless, undying.
But for the court, I'm very young.
Something about the Nexus
Outside the house, glowering on the edge of the property. A workshop.
Class/Profession: Artificer. Our term for it is 'Wonderworker'. The forging of Charities into artifacts, magical items, that is the innovation of the Outer Court, and I feel sure it holds the secret to the Veldt. It is my calling, and in it I far surpass the one who once taught me.
Power Rating: In combat? I couldn't beat Places in a fight, so I guess that makes me C- at best. I don't even have a blade yet, so it's probably less. But I can do a lot of useful things that aren't fighting! Purely in terms of power, you'd want to put me at a 6.
A glimpse among the tall grasses is nevertheless enough for a full Description: Those cerulean eyes, without iris or pupil, pools of blazing color seeing without sight, set into a panther's face. Two tentacles, smooth ropy limbs outstretched from the shoulders, were holding the grass apart. Her tail ends in a big tuft of long fur, with a decorative clip of jade and ormolu. Not entirely unlike something snakey. The body is subject to constant refinements as the wheel turns, slow divergences from the original copy of BC.
Personality: In this field you kind of have to take a good look at yourself.
If I might say so myself, I'm friendly, and even though it isn't our purpose, I love helping people. Maybe there's a bit of showing off involved.
I don't like fighting; I don't like conflict. You have to push me pretty far to get me to snap back. But I can, well, feel jealous.
Equipment: When they're not in use, they return here, devoked.
Among the celestial charities, there are two that I lack: the Blade of conflict, and the Map of teaching.
In my left ear there is an earring, black metal, and a little rainbow orb at the bottom of the hoop. The Ring of desire, of course, I know well. It was the first thing that came to me, even before the areas of my expertise. It was more colorful, once.
A paintbrush, with banded in silver and attached made of fever-wood. The Pen of creation, of course, is what I am, and it I have mastered to great heights.
A little hand mirror unfolds. The left lens shows the past, the central, normal reflections, and the third, our futures. The Glass of learning came third. It was with the glass that I really left my humanity behind.
We have all sworn to the Oath of Refounding, and it manifests as golden chains about our head. The Staff of diplomacy of mine, the contract itself appears as a golden hammer with curiously placed claws.
A simple bowl of red clay, handmade, but smooth and polished. The Cup of definition, only in making this place has it filled so full.
A chariot pulled by a team of flightless birds. The Wheel of space, my membership in the Outer Court. It is quick transit, but mostly confined to roads, a world already ordered for it. Luckily a road already opens before it, a lesson on the corruptibility of all things.
The hair clip used to be a fellow student, a friend. The pressures of their dreams compressed them to this useful decoration, unable to wake, unable to die.
A gun that she really doesn't know how to use. A wide trapezoidal stock with four barrels in parallel. It shoots some sort of rays.
Abilities: Reality is as I say it is. Unless contested by another mind. Besides knowing the shape of things, Yone is but a weak, unskilled worker of grammar-magic, though a prodigy in one thing: the construction of magical items.
Backstory: Disowned by her family for past sins and barely scraping by in a dead end job Inside, Yone was one of several students drawn by the Bureacat's promise of power and a better life. While a significant number of her fellow students died, she is one of the two to truly succeed and complete the lessons, reshaping her body and taking hold of great magical power. Besides briefly helping Mara and harassing the Earthly Court and their friends, she has been working to build a new home for the new Outer Court here in the Nexus.
Miscellaneous: Forgotten things, scattered here and there.