Riisa vel Siefreet

by **Walpurgisnacht** Fri Jan 03, 2020 7:15 pm

Name: Riisa Vel Siefreet

Race: Antitheus

Racial Attributes: Ghostly white skin, black irises, arms coated in something resembling metal or carapace, all the way down to the hands.

Age: Around 200. Appearance of 40s.

Gender: Female

Personality: Fundamentally, a thing that is incapable of empathy. Because her perception has been modified, Riisa can never view other people as being anything similar to her. A wholly separate existence that perceives itself as “the only human,” she is shackled by an unnatural egotism ingrained into her from the moment of her birth.

Put simply, Kasterra is her plaything. The kingdom of her birth belongs to her as per her noble lineage, and she protects it as a matter of personal pride. In the same way one might value a precious painting or heirloom, Riisa likewise values the “safety” of Kasterra, and carries a twisted semblance of patriotism in her otherwise condescending tone. A logic of cold steel, which would sacrifice every single person in the kingdom for the sake of protecting the “land” or destroying the “enemies.”

To this end, manipulation courses through her veins, painting the mask of a smiling face on her blank visage. She idly plays with those around her, fiddling with human life the same way you’d fiddle with a mundane “something” in your hand for a fleeting pass-time. The worst sort of person to deal with, whose words are inauthentic replicas of real sentiments, dripping out from her coy smile like acid.

In spite of her arrogance, she is not someone whose pride is easily injured. A composed woman, comfortable with her position, who uses her influence as aristocracy to reinforce that Kasterra, ultimately, belongs to her. Mere insults couldn’t change that - in the end, everything will go the way she wants, even if it requires her to step with caution.

To put it another way, she isn’t hurt by the thoughts of things without faces.

Appearance: A faint, pale wisp, appareled in black ink. Riisa’s figure is slender and tall, like a thing of straw dressed in monochrome. A scarecrow frame lined with white flesh and hidden muscle, crowned by a head of silk in dual tones. Streaks of snow and shadow dance atop and around her ghostly countenance, framing a plastic smile and venomous gaze.

Spoiler:

She resembles a mannequin with human features painted on top. An empty visage captures the void in her eyes, which are nothing more than blots of ink. Her smile, which seems to be ever-present, is nothing more than a faded pen-mark. Everything beneath is concealed. From collar to toe, Riisa wraps herself in black cloth. Noble coats swathe her figure like veils, with long sleeves resting atop the inhuman carapace which embellishes her arms.

Alignment: Kasterra

Occupation: Aristocrat

Relations: None.

Backstory: A recipient of noble heritage, passed down through a bloodline which had rooted itself in the kingdom of Kasterra from its earliest beginnings. An Antitheus reborn in Gehenna, dragged up from beneath the earth to her father's new playground.

In those days, Kasterra had only been a thought, floating around in the disillusioned minds of those branching off from Concuclare. Riisa’s father, one of the earlier Antithei to depart from the realm beneath and rise to the vacant lands of Bright Ire, was a founding member of the Kingdom, and his family became established as aristocracy.

To his daughter, he gave this kingdom. The young girl he had made to be perfect was the beneficiary of his experiment.

by **Six** Sat Jan 25, 2020 9:45 pm

"Haven't I seen you before, miss- uh" a grizzled man continued, his nattering having taken up the better part of the morning meeting. He jostled the leather binding case atop his satchel, leafing through the amber-stained documents within its pockets. Each page seemed almost peeled straight from the man, his skin toned to a perfect match in hue for the paper. "Ah, that's right. You're ah, old man what's-his-name's spawnling. A right perfect match in temperament if I've ever seen. Like a beast in a cage three sizes too small, you t- that is, if you don't mind me sayin' as much, miss." The man spoke with a heavy accent, but it wasn't anything native to Ire. He bobbed his head in a shallow gesture, the ragged leather cap atop his branch-like horns nearly losing purchase on the crown. His eyes didn't meet Riisa's, but his mouth kept running in excess, as if to fill the air with his own voice to avoid making room for hers.

"Right then, if you'll sign here on the top an' bottom lines, we'll be-- ah, well you've already done me job for me right here!" With a slap of his knuckles, he rapped against the leaflet of documentation, each parcel sealed and finalized with the script of a noble house. The wax emblem across the strands indicated high stature, but nothing the horned man hadn't seen before in this line of work. He raked a crusted thumb across the top, flipping through each sheet without undoing the seal. Every word, every dab of wax that forged those sentences had now safely congealed into the copies of images within his mental recess. He'd make sure to place those memories into the banks later, but for now, he felt the need for a drink. The eyes on that woman drove his skin into goose flesh.

"Right, well no need to say another word, miss! You'll be alright, and ah thanks ye for returning to my humble offices to renew your documentation of citizenship. Yer door's on the right, leave a good review in my name if you'd be so kind, and ah, that'll do it."

A flurry of gestures, a bow, and a quick act of gathering his pack and reaching the door behind him, not bothering to await any response. As he believed himself out of the engagement, he cursed under his breath about the strangeness of his related-kind these days. Always making something of themselves it seemed like.

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Riisa vel Siefreet

Riisa vel Siefreet

Re: Riisa vel Siefreet