Fizh
Empress of Puns
[Name]
Johnathan Lockess
[Age]
18
[Sex]
Female
[Race]
Manticore
[Date of Birth]
Unknown, her father picked August 25
[Occupation]
Bouncer, although she will still occasionally stand one of the tables and conduct the drunker of the patrons like an orchestra. Most of the time even the sober ones will join in singing. Most would argue that's what the stage is for, but John is a firm believer in using her environment to her advantage. Besides, she really isn't that great of a singer...
[Appearance]
Johnny stands at a healthy 5'6", and has a leaner build with some decent curves. Her nails are sharp and her teeth perhaps more pointed than the average Joe's, but overall she seems about as human as they get. Her whiteish hair is often kept tied of to prevent it from getting in the way in the inevitable fights that were to happen. Her eyes have this certain piercing quality to them, that causes the patrons' skin to crawl when she's watching them. On her right hand, she only has half of her ring finger. She hides this by wearing special gloves to give her back the functionality of that finger. For this reason she shakes hands with her left, not her right.
[Personality]
John is an odd one, to say the least. She wanders between pessimism and realism, although spends a good amount of time on the apathetic side of situations. She rarely takes interest in people unless they truly intrigue her, either in looks, abilities, or personality. She doesn't care much about death, and during a fight will often go for the kill if it is more convenient. That is, if she isn't on the clock. At work she generally tries to refrain from causing too many casualties. Johnny can be quite affectionate, and generally gets along somewhat well with people she meets. She is mainly money-driven, and isn't against pick-pocketing the occasional drunk, let alone putting on an act to scam someone out of their earnings. She likes to drink (probably a little too much), and can hold her liquor. She tends to sneak a few mugs of beer now and then, but the employees generally let it slide. Really, it's amazing she even has a job at this point.
[Biography]
John's mother was just like her -- a manticore with certain properties which allowed her to take on a human form. And so, of course, with the rarity of her species, it was inevitable she would instead fall in love with a human male. At first, they were happy. He was a fisherman living a simple life, she was the commander of an army just returned from war. The were infatuated with each other, him with her beauty and power, her with his kindness and simpler way of life. And he never found out what she really was. A year went by, they lived in joyful harmony, grasping on to each moment and preserving it like a perfect dream.
Ah, but dreams end, do they not? And this one was bound to take a crash landing the second it began. War called again, she packed her bags and left his village. He fell into debt, so distraught with the thought of his lover being slain in battle. Four years went by. There was no sign of them ever reuniting.
And then, one day in late August, the man got up to go catch that night's dinner, only to open his front door and find a little girl, sitting there in the early morning cold, shivering and sniffling to herself. She could only have been three, at the most, and a note sitting next to her with his name on it in her same, lilting handwriting only confirmed what he thought -- this was his lover's child... it was his child, their child. Their child, his responsibility.
He took the girl in, named her Tara, and taught her how to fish. The little girl brought back some of the joy in his life, and he managed to pick up his act, if only to make her life a happy one. Slowly, slowly, the girl's memories of her mother were erased and replaced by the warming memories of her father. He was Tara's everything, and she was his. The people of the village took a particular liking to her, and the elders taught her some helpful spells -- but something was wrong. She could see the looks of worry in their eyes when she got irritated or hungry, she could feel their harsh glares as she practiced the spells she had learned.
Everything fell apart all at once, if they weren't crumbling away from day one.
It had started out simple. She was practicing a small fire spell, one that produced a small flame on the tip of her fingers. Tara was doing quite well, for just learning the spell. She could smell smoke surrounding her, and thought nothing of it. It was a fire spell after all. But when the screaming started, her instincts told her to go see what was happening.
Who would have thought such a small, impoverished village would be the victim of such a large band of raiders? They galloped through the village on horses, holding torches in one hand and crossbows in the other. An old man tried to negotiate with one of them. Tara knew what would happen, and ran to push him out of the way just as the villain's fell. She was too late, and the elderly man fell to the ground, his blood painting the dirt road an angry red. She looked on in horror as he coughed up blood, finally falling silent.
The girl's eyes widened, her fingers balling into fists. All around her was carnage. There was blood decorating the roads and the buildings like a festive paint. There were cries and shrieks and screams. Her father, he had a dagger, he was slashing out at them, he didn't see her, he didn't see her, but the raider did. He planted his boots firmly, his dark eyes taking in her small form, his rough hands grabbing her arm, his hand caressing her back, then going lower, too low. She let out a yelp and he smiled at her, breathing deeply, his disgusting breath hitting her in waves. He bent over, whispering what he would do to her in her ear.
Her father cried out her name, just now seeing her, but too far away to help. The raider picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder and carrying back to one of their caravans. He had barely made it five steps before she snapped. Her eyes wild, she stopped kicking and yelling out. Tara stopped struggling. Her mind went blank. And then she changed.
The stench of death finally woke her up. There was no movement around her, nothing but silence.
Her whole village, massacred.
[Equipment]
- An old, rusted dagger that John calls Tenebrose. It's not very strong, but it is a good, trustworthy blade she received from her father at an early age and has never let go of. She both loves and hates the blade, as it once belonged to her mother.
- Kingmaker - A heavy, two-handed longsword with a bright silver shine. The blade is sharp enough to cut through most things when enough force is applied. On the end of the bland, black hilt, dangles a silver cross on a black chain. Johnathan looted the sword from a body about four years prior. She swings the blade about in one hand with impossible ease.
[Abilities]
- Enhanced Self - Insanely boosted strength, heightened speed, prolonged life.
- True form - She can shift into a lion-like creature with large leathery wings and three poison-spiked tails at will. In this form her skin is nearly impenetrable, and she is about the size of a sports car.
- Magicks - John knows many basic magic spells, such as healing or concealment spells. She uses the latter most often, seeing as her monstrous aura is overpowering, and if she didn't, monster hunters would be swarming the place. She knows a few particularly powerful spells, such as one to freeze people where they stand and another to corrode their skin. However, these spells sap her energy and make her particularly irritable -- and dangerous. She only uses magic as a last resort.
- Rampage - Sometimes if she is overly hungry and someone starts to bleed out in front of her, she'll transform and go on a mad rampage until her hunger is satisfied or she is sedated. Having a diet of human flesh is a tricky thing, really...
[Weaknesses]
- Her hunger, for one thing. Having such an appetite all the time wears her out and eventually drives her mad. You can see it in her eyes -- a certain tinge of crazy. It's around these times that one would not want to spill another's blood.
- Cold. She absolutely despises it and is the tavern is for some reason below fifty-seven degrees, she'll put on a jacket and complain about for the rest of eternity. Oh, and it makes her physically weaker. She isn't heat tolerant, either, just majorly prefers it.
- People who put up a good fight. Johnny has a soft spot for those people that keep trying to hurt her but don't succeed, and might let her guard down on purpose for a special few.
- Alternate spells really tick her off. Because her "freezing" spell physically and chronologically paralyzes her victims where they stand, but does not effect their minds at all, a counteracting restoration spell (a strong one) or a time-reversal spell could be the key to saving their lives. That is, if the spell can be cast without a chant of any kind. Her corrosion spell can be counteracted by a simple, but fortified, body-armor spell, and is easily given away by a yellowish pulsing light emminating from her hand. This gives her opponent a tad of time to prepare themselves. Although, not many know the weaknesses to these spells.
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