Fluffy's Hub of Stuff

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Thu, 2016-07-21 09:31
fluffyDeathbringer
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"There's slurry of words and thoughts and feelings moving around in me and when I vomit it out, I hope the stream comes out as solid things. I try to make the stains make shapes and patterns."

Sets

Mious (community set)

Radurdum (abandoned)

Kaleidoscope (complete)

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Thu, 2016-07-21 15:26
fluffyDeathbringer
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Characters

Rheila Rachy

Homeplane: Alara (Jund)
Species: Viashino
Gender: Man
Age: 32
Specialty: Manipulation of lifeforce
Colors: WBG
Sets appearing in: Vis, Plane of Death, Kaleidoscope

Born as a weak-bodied runt due to mutations from the Maelstrom’s energy, the elders of Rheila’s home pack - the Carrion Thrash - decided to have him put down. But before the warrior responsible could strike the killing blow, the infant viashino instinctively shot out a blast of magic to try to defend himself - and healed the warrior’s grievous wounds nigh-completely. Realizing Rheila’s vast potential could benefit them greatly if honed, the thrash reneged and let him live as one of its own. He was trained rigorously in the arts of healing and became one of the thrash’s best at a young age, his native white mana making his savantesque life-manipulating prowess even sharper and more diverse. Rheila lived for his work, acutely aware that he’d only been spared based on his capabilities - but even within this high pressure, he had solace in his friendship (and later romantic relationship) with his thrashmate Dajaman.

It was, relatively speaking, a good life… so of course it was not to last. One day, Dajaman returned from battle in a near-death state, and sheer shock and panic overwhelmed Rheila’s ability to save his mate - Dajaman died in Rheila’s arms, and this ignited his spark. His life thrown off kilter completely, he clung to what he knew to suppress his grief: medicine. He became a healer’s apprentice in Dominaria and glutted himself on all the new healing knowledge he could, ascending ever higher and working hard as a doctor. But even though he had cobbled together something of a new life in Dominaria, he yearned for more strength, more wisdom, more people whose doctor he could be; and so Rheila he left for the Multiverse, vowing never to fail again.

Rheila went on to become an interplanar miracle worker thanks to his extensive studies on life and death themselves and his readiness to do anything for his work. Seven years later, he was reunited with Dajaman and resumed his work with his obsession with being as perfect as possible (slightly) tempered; but later, a freak accident tainted the structure of Rheila’s magic, locking away his ability to heal. Not being able to devote his all to what had been his purpose for existing broke Rheila, and in this crisis his mind settled on a new purpose - to help those in need and defend those who can’t defend themselves. After a brief period of mental transition, he decided to settle down as a pharmacist-cum-vigilante in Ravnica for its vast population - a vast population would surely have vast amounts of helpless.

Rheila’s core word is “focus”. When he concentrates on a task, Rheila won’t rest until it’s done well, pushing himself to the brink and putting aside all else. An inveterate workaholic, he can’t stand being idle for long and needs to always be doing something with his time. On the surface level, Rheila is a polite, albeit emotionally subdued gentleman who enjoys helping and keeping away from needless conflict… but behind this (partially affected) presentation lies a hard, coldly pragmatic heart. Although genuinely devoted to helping and protecting those in need, Rheila ruthlessly uses any means necessary to reach results; his sympathy for anything outside his sphere of interest is limited, and he’ll readily ignore any guilty conscience and cross any threshold for the sake of completing his self-assigned purpose. Despite this, when he finds himself in a more relaxed time, he can be genuinely affable and considerate of others, if not very empathetic. The one weakness of Rheila’s mental fortitude is his beloved mate, Dajaman - he trusts Dajaman implicitly and tries to be more merciful to spare Dajaman from upset, and his generally calm and collected demeanour falls apart when Dajaman’s safety and well-being become compromised.

Dajaman

Homeplane: Alara, Jund
Species: Viashino Zombie
Gender: Man
Age: 42
Specialties: Pyromancy, geomancy
Colors: BRG
Sets appearing in: Skyrim Remastered

Born amidst Jund’s savage landscape and struggle to survive, Dajaman quickly developed the strength, toughness and warrior’s instinct he needed to fight back against his homeland’s ferocity - but never the guile. His earnest and sensitive nature made him well-liked among his hunting thrash, but also easy to manipulate. When murmurs spread amongst Jund’s people of forming a posse to take on Karrthus, its supreme dragonlord, perhaps a more prudent viashino would’ve left well enough alone… but Dajaman, swayed by sympathy for his fellows and righteous anger for the tyrannic Karrthus, joined the cause with fiery determination. Soon enough, the group of valiants made its move… and was slaughtered to the last.

The raid had gone just as envisioned by the devious Grixis necromancer who’d orchestrated it from the shadows - now, they had strong and fresh corpses to test their new experimental techniques upon. Dajaman’s was one of the corpses they strove to reanimate with an entirely different way of undeath. Although the procedure was a success, they could not celebrate their triumph for long - for the resurrection had not only retained Dajaman’s dormant planeswalker spark, but ignited it as his soul was re-joined to his body. In his initial shock of being thrown into an entirely different world, Dajaman rampaged across Theros in a blind, fearful rage - but as he calmed down and realized what he had become, he was beset by sheer delight at the prospect of having an entirely new universe to explore. Dajaman lived in Theros for a few months, making amends and friends, but eventually his longing for his lover Rheila bade him return to Jund - where he discovered that Rheila, too, had sparked like he had. Stricken by worry, he leaped into the infinite planes to find his mate - as well as to take in and enjoy as much of the Multiverse as he could.

Now, eight years later, Dajaman lives with Rheila in Ravnica, working as a circus performer and supporting his mate’s cause of helping Ravnica’s needy and defenceless. Dajaman’s core word is “sentimental”. Sensitive to mood swings to and fro and quick to get carried away by whatever he’s feeling at the time, Dajaman is a man led around primarily by his instincts and emotions rather than any deeper reasoning. He knows this, and embraces his simple-minded nature. His general temperament towards other people and the world at large is one of sympathy and optimism; he prefers to push through life’s twists and turns with carefree confidence, and “it’ll all be alright” is his favourite phrase. However, his sensitivity also makes his negative emotions that much more intense when they come, and he has a jaded streak that he sometimes succumbs to. Dajaman has problems with patience and restraint, acting largely on impulses and snap decisions without much forethought. He has no particular life goal beyond living an enjoyable second life while trying to be a good person. Although Rheila's harsher side and more callous deeds upset Dajaman, he ultimately sees beyond them to Rheila's selflessness and determination and loves him in both good and bad.

*yes I know Doug's said that undead things can't have sparks, but I'm too lazy to retcon it

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

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Thu, 2016-07-21 15:30
ZephyrPhantom
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Just want to say I really love that Rheila art! Big smile


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Thu, 2016-07-21 15:33
fluffyDeathbringer
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Thanks! I saw that art and it was like... destiny.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Thu, 2016-07-21 15:42
thehuw
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not called Fluffy's Hub of Stuffy, 0/10

I second Zephyr's praise of the art, and this version of Rheila's card is probably my favorite so far.

Red mana symbolWhite mana symbolBlack mana symbol
Set Huwb
They/them pronouns, please.
Praise Vectron.

Thu, 2016-07-21 15:57
fluffyDeathbringer
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I didn't go back and dig up the old Lifebender Supreme card because I'm embarrassed by my writing at that point in time.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Sun, 2016-07-24 10:35
fluffyDeathbringer
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Characters 2

Bahum

Homeplane: Mious
Species: Human
Colors: WBG
Sets appearing in: Worldfire, Mious

Bahum's latent affinity for destructive power blossomed soon after birth, killing their parents and destroying their home. Clerics of Bahet, the God of Destruction, saw their potential and took them in to be raised in worship of the Mother of the End. Bahum, rechristened such as part of their acolyte training, grew to be strong and dutiful in the sacred work of destroying for the sake of planar balance in Mious.

When they received the honour of communing directly with Bahet herself instead of her angelic proxies, the experience triggered Bahum's spark. Now, they wander the planes, maintaining their cosmic balance and well-being by destroying everything (and everyone) that causes inequilibrium.

Bahum's core word is "love": they destroy and kill because they love the world, and they're unrelentingly forgiving and charitable to everyone around them because they love all who dwell on its surface. This conflict between caring for the world at large and caring for its people causes the priest great pain; but they bear up silently, never allowing themself to falter in either of these driving graces.

Gulaisha

Homeplane: Ravnica
Species: Loxodon
Colors: WB
Sets appearing in: None yet...

Sold to the Orzhov to repay a debt as an infant, Gulaisha grew up in its folds as a true believer. Under the illusion that Orzhova’s work was truly the path of virtue, she trained in her inborn photomantic talents fastidiously and without complaint. After all, it was all for the sake of devoting herself to something good and worthwhile, something greater than herself. Holding on to this, Gulaisha persevered in her devotion and suppression of her own needs in name of piety…

…until one day, she saw the truth of the Church of Deals. Although Gulaisha initially didn’t want to believe it, reality set in cruelly when one of those superiors attempted to permanently silence her. In panicked self-defence, she killed him, an act that pushed her to a breaking point and hurled her into grim Innistrad. Stranded in a foreign land and wracked with all she’d known falling apart around her, Gulaisha desperately sought shelter in a nearby church, a symbol of comfort and safety even here - but was rebuffed for her bizarre appearance. This last straw crushed all vestige of faith in Gulaisha’s heart, and she could stave off her most cynical and selfish feelings no longer - they came flooding in to fill the emptiness inside. “There is no selflessness.” “There is no virtue.” “There is no order, or justice, or good god.” As these thoughts and more like them, familiar from her acolyte days, began to coalesce inside Gulaisha, a new resolve filled her, one that felt oh so right: live only for yourself. Think only of yourself. Care only for yourself. Take all that you desire. Nothing else matters. With this, her latent connection to black mana joined with her power over light, and she released her emotions in a spell that covered the church in darkness. With a triumphant cackle, she followed the tug of the Multiverse, leaving Innistrad - and her old self - behind.

Now, Gulaisha presents herself as an interplanar businesswoman, trading from her extensive collection of curios and offering her power to any cause that asks - but never for free. Gulaisha’s core word is “privilege”, and she lives up to it in all aspects of her life - she indulges her desires with no shame or expense spared and is driven to be in a position above those around her, whether it means direct dominance over them or just having no obligations to abide to. Highly dishonest and callous, Gulaisha will use any means necessary to gain more and more profit for herself, except for murder; due to the event that made her what she is, she has a phobia of corpses and seeing others die. What Gulaisha hates the most in the world is people who try to help others, decrying them as “hypocrites” or “deluded”. If she feels she can afford it, Gulaisha likes to show her friendly side to those around her, taking delight in relaxing and having a comfortable, carefree time.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Sun, 2016-07-24 21:38
ZephyrPhantom
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Ayyy mixtape person!

Gulaisha actually makes me think of Sorin in some aspects for some reason. Maybe it's the former innocent nature turned into Black mana symbol hedonism resulting in an questionable balance of White/black mana symbol after further circumstances.


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Sun, 2016-07-24 21:42
fluffyDeathbringer
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Was Sorin ever really white, per se? I haven't read that much into his lore. I hope Gula doesn't resemble him too much ^^;

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

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Sun, 2016-07-24 21:49
Vunik
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I don't think Sorin was ever mono-white, and only recently did he become white/black. After all, he's a vampire with a case of nihilism. I'd be surprised if he was ever white in the first place.

And a bit of research confirms, he has never been mono-white. (Here's all his iterations: Sorin Markov, Sorin, Grim Nemesis, Sorin, Lord of Innistrad, and Sorin, Solemn Visitor.)

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TWOK is the best!

Sun, 2016-07-24 21:53
ZephyrPhantom
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My bad. I didn't mean to imply that Sorin himself was formerly White mana symbol, just that his pre-spark self seemed innocent enough to be White mana symbol.


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Sun, 2016-07-24 22:02
Vunik
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Ah, yeah, I can see that. It sucks that we don't know much about his past. I think it would be cool to see a mono-white Sorin, maybe one that sparks into his mono-black planeswalker form.

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Sun, 2016-07-24 22:19
Cajun
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Sorin is White mana symbol because extreme-term Black mana symbol looks very similar. Avacyn protecting the humans seems White mana symbol except it was done so Sorin and friends wouldn't run out of humans to eat, fairly Black mana symbol.

Cajun's Explorations
Planeswalker Template Overhaul
fluffyDeathbringer wrote:
I dunno, Cajun has a habit of doing Dubiously Working new rules stuff

Sat, 2016-09-24 08:51
fluffyDeathbringer
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Changed Dajaman's second ability to a -3 Loyalty, since that's pretty powerful for someone with that starting loyalty (what were you thinking, past me?). Also updated his bio.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Sat, 2016-11-05 04:31
fluffyDeathbringer
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who wants a drabble that makes little sense outside prior context? no one? TOO BAD HERE WE GO

Changes

An undefined amount of time in the future...

On a midnight rooftop, Dajaman hangs his feet off the edge and stares into the sprawling Ravnican horizon with a smile. As always, a mosaic of city noise permeates the characteristic darkness spotted with artificial light - a darkness that, on other worlds, would be filled with nothing but silence. Not that he'd really mind that, either, in the right mood. Sometimes, silence can be a man's best friend. But all in all, he thinks, we couldn't have picked a much better place to settle down in. This place is so diverse, so vibrant, so...

A familiar feeling surfaces again inside, as it has more and more frequently lately; and with a sigh, the smile gives way to the frown of a man fatigued. So samey.

It's a feeling Dajaman's known many times; the wanderer's weariness of familiarity, amplified by the sheer range of a planeswalker's map. An old acquaintance from his vagabond days before finding Rheila again, knocking once more on his door and tinting the house grey upon crossing the threshold. Of course, it would require legal blindness to call Ravnica a place where nothing happens; but shifting down from an exponentially more eventful place such as the Arena was just enough of a difference for that old acquaintance to slowly edge its foot into the door.

On some level, Dajaman knows that there's always going to be something different tomorrow. But the new horizon's glow can't dispel the dull, creeping grey in his mind that seeps more and more into Ravnica's offerings the more he sits still and lets his mind relax. Performing at the Rakdos revues is starting to feel grey. Walking around town is starting to feel grey. Even being the friendly neighbourhood hero, going out there and doing good by the world... even that's starting to feel like a routine wound and tinkered into a repetitive construct.

You know what you need? murmurs another voice inside, not using words but still speaking oh so clearly. You need a break. Not just a quick nip where you'll be back for dinner - I'm talking months. Even a year if you need to. Just jump blind into the Eternities, ending up somewhere where you've never been before. A real adventure with a real new horizon. You know you want to. Rhei will understand - hell, he might even join in if you're really lucky. And the people here who need help can pull their own weight without you for a while, they'll be strong and smart when the chips come down, right? You believe in them, right? It's okay. You deserve to treat yourself. Just get out there, have a good time, and when you come back, everything will be fresh as dawn again.

The more the voice speaks, the more it starts to make sense, and the more Dajaman's posture begins to alight with energy. That's right. It's so simple. Just let go for a while. It'll all be allright. No regrets.


On an operating table, Dajaman lies still - like he has been for the past hour - and regrets.

Above his cut-open chest cavity, the primary source of his regrets is weaving yet another protective enchantment on the core that keeps him in his body, dead silent and focused solely on that work. You could already be out there adventuring and having fun if you'd just left a note for him to wake up to instead of telling him directly, Dajaman finds himself thinking, but he shakes his head at that thought (mentally, of course - if he moved too much now, there's a good chance Rheila would start all over again). No. There's no telling what'll happen. I already made him watch me die once. I'm not going to do it again if I can help it. And so he lies still, and patiently waits. But not patiently enough not to eventually whine out another "are ya done yet?"

"This will be the last one. It's almost complete." responds his husband in that detached tone he gets when he's in the zone. The sight of that familiar determination that Dajaman so loves almost drowns out his aggravation at having to stay still for way too long when he could be galloping across a strange land already. Almost.

"Ya said that fifteen minutes ago..."

"Other deficiencies occurred to me and demanded amending." A glowing wisp of white and black filigree descends from Rheila's fingertips, mingling into the intricate patterns already there. "It is hardly my fault that whenever I try to check up on your protection, all I get for a response sometimes is 'it's fine'."

"It is fine a lot of the time though! Ya worry too much." They've had this argument before. It's an old favourite. One that Rheila doesn't humour with a response this time, instead concentrating on delicate final touches. Dajaman groans at the lack of stimulus as Rheila looks over the work and nods to himself, finally deeming it adequate. With practiced movements, he reseals Dajaman's gaping front and lifts the temporary blocker on his pain receptors.

"Finally." barks out Dajaman as he eagerly gets up, having crammed more pent-up frustration into that one word than nature intended. "Ya done now?" He's not even really looking at Rheila, already staring off out of a window as if he's about to disappear into the air outside, which is in fact the case.

"Actually... there is one more thing." The softer tone and the sensation of a hand resting atop his own snap Dajaman out of his anticipatory fugue, and the tender smile on his mate's face takes the rest of his attention. "And I hope it'll make up for all the rest." In a practiced movement, Rheila tip-toes closer and presses his snout against Dajaman's; Dajaman, in turn, wraps his arms around Rheila and gently pulls him into a kiss, all previous consternation forgotten. Some blissful moments later, the kiss seamlessly transitions into an old favourite position; Rheila's face nestled between Dajaman's head and shoulder, and Dajaman nuzzling the back of Rheila's head in turn.

"You know I can't help but worry, don't you?" says Rheila after an indeterminate period of silent comfort, voice ringing with vulnerability only Dajaman is permitted to hear. "Especially when the one I love's about to head off into the unknown."

"I know." murmurs Dajaman, punctuating with a kiss on Rheila's temple. "An' I promise, with all I've got and all I am, I'll come back."

"In the end, that's all I ask."


In the backyard, Rheila watches the fading shimmers of Dajaman's planeswalk with blurry eyes. He wipes the tears away...but the blur remains.

With a scowl, he heads back inside, taking extra care not to hit any furniture. The visual affliction was mercifully absent during the operation before, and other symptoms have been easy enough to hide from Dajaman - who, notes Rheila ruefully, would most definitely have stayed behind out of worry despite his malaise - but the time for denial has been over for some time now.

His body has been slowly deteriorating, a combination of stress, stimulant abuse and the naturally weak constitution of a mutant having brought him closer to expiration. That plan has so far been on the back burner, a concern for the future; but fate has brought it on his doorstep. It will have to be initiated soon, while his body can still be primed for the moment of transformation.

Daja. When you return, I won't be the same. And I may even have done things you'll abhor.

But I promise. With all I have and all I am.

I will live to see you again.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Wed, 2017-04-26 10:51
fluffyDeathbringer
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Updated the hub with sets, updated some character profiles.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

Avatar by rickenfe13. goats are gay

Wed, 2017-08-16 17:51
fluffyDeathbringer
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Since I'm gonna be using this as a hub in earnest, here's a dump. Also updated some bios above.

Characters 3

Suvia

Suvia

Species: Vampire
Gender: Man (transgender)
Age: 19
Home plane: Elama
Specialties: Draining negative emotions, heightened empathy, superhuman strength and endurance
Sets appearing in: Evolution of the Lahessi

On the world of Elama, all things have the spark of life: parts of nature, objects, even emotions. A capricious land with capricious magic... including curses. One such curse befell Suvia's parents while he was in utero, resulting in a strange child indeed; Suvia would not nurse during infancy, but neither would he starve or sleep, and holding him had a strangely soothing effect that went beyond mere adoration of an infant. However, all concern and creeping dread that might be expected to have come from that seemed to melt away as soon as it came, and so Suvia was merely accepted as a miracle child and loved all the same. As Suvia grew, he became quite popular with child and adult alike due to this almost-uncanny influence and his charmingly biting wit, although he always seemed to have an air of sadness behind it -- but when he was around, none could maintain their worry for long. Perhaps, a few minutes after he'd left, the things he'd said seemed to be actually quite vicious, and perhaps he was sometimes suspected of stealing children's toys and pushing people off the high cliffs... but eventually, he'd always be either free of suspicion or forgiven.

In truth, Suvia had been born not as human, but as a kind of vampire; but rather than thirst for blood, his sustenance came from devouring the negative emotions of those around him. Everyone felt happy and comfortable around him because he ate away everything else... but he could never eat his own "sorrow". As ordinary food was venom to him, he inflicted pain and misery in order to survive; his high empathy let him know well what remark would scathe the most or what deed would harrow the deepest, but it also made him sympathize with them to the point where his life was a constant struggle between letting himself die and clinging to life for fear of death. Inside, he truly and deeply loved his village; but he knew other way to live, and received no counsel due to keeping his secret close to his chest. One day, unable to take it anymore, he attempted to end his own life; but as he hurtled down the cliff he'd broken so many other bones with, a shock of terror ignited his spark and tossed him through the Eternities into the wartorn land of Valla. A far cry from pastoral Elama, the ambient sorrow in Valla's many battlefields was enough to sustain Suvia without him having to add to it, and he was exuberant: at last, he could be at ease and truly live. Thanks to Suvia's superhuman vampiric strength and exceptional ability to bolster morale, many sides of battle courted his favour as a soldier; but, unable to pick a side due to empathizing with them all, harrowed Suvia was finally driven to leave Valla. Now, he wanders the Eternities, seeking a world where he can at last fit in and live in peace.

Fennel

Species: Human
Gender: Woman
Age: 24
Home plane: Innistrad
Specialties: Runes
Colors: U
Sets appearing in: None yet

Fennel had difficulty with understanding others since childhood; often, she thought that she'd been thrust into a world of nonsensical rules where everyone else was in on some universal truth she wasn't privy to. Put off by this (and putting others off with her overly literal and blunt mannerisms), she kept to herself, seeking answers for that truth in the arcane; magical runes especially called to her, and she found in their rigid forms so very many things: a talent to call her own, a way to finally understand the world, and consequently, a source of confidence and hope in a world from which she always felt out of sync. Fennel grew into a skilled runechanter indeed, sought by many and gaining a reputation of a wunderkind in Innistrad's magical academia. Sadly, it wasn't to last; witnessing the events of Eldricht Moon ignited Fennel's sparked and tossed her into the Eternities. Out of house and occupation, Fennel now seeks a place of employ where her talent and want for understanding the world can flourish.

Fennel's core word is "direct". She speaks what she thinks very literally -- even when silence would be more prudent or polite -- and expects everyone else to do the same. She's prone to doing things her own way without explanation or announcement, rarely remembering beforehand that such elaborations are even necessary. Despite this, she's far from unkind; although she can't quite understand why people who aren't her do things differently, she still puts in effort to not cause any hard feelings to her peers. Unbothered by solitude, Fennel often sequesters herself into a quiet corner and falls into hours-long fugues of focus that makes her forget to even eat.

Plane info to come.

Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.

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