Falcon/ScarletButterfly
Scarlet Butterfly
I'm awake, the girl realises, suddenly aware of her own thoughts. Things crawl through her awareness like coils of smoke, her sleepy mind having trouble grasping them fully. Warmth. She tries to snuggle closer to it, but part of her won't move. There are noises in the distance. Shouting. The scent in the air reminds her of her father, but she doesn't want to think of him. The girl doesn't want to open her eyes. Memories of fear intrude on her comfortable darkness. Memories, and a nagging in her left arm. Something is wrong, she realises with no particular sense of urgency. She thinks she is hurt, that something bad has happened. She stifles a whimper, but doesn't open her eyes.
The warmth is growing uncomfortable. Somewhere she puts the heat and smells together. Her father no don't think of him don't think of him. Fire. There is a fire nearby. Her subconscious rearranges the sounds she hears, and she realises she is right. A lot of fire nearby. Her father always said he'd protect her from the fire, would stand in the fireplace and laugh. He looked so surprised the last time she'd seen him.
I have to leave, she thinks, struggling with the effort of conscious thought. Tentatively, she opens her eyes. Eye. The left one is stuck shut not gone no just shut. The fire is right next to her, eating the carpet and curling the fibers on her kimono. She watches the red and gold turn black and curl away in the heat. Her arm begins to hurt from the heat. She matches the pain from the arm she can see with the one she doesn't want to look at. She is hurt. I have to leave.
The girl sits up, but something holds her halfway. Her arm is stuck. Something sticky pins it to the floor. She swallows, scrunches her eyes shut, and stands up. Her arm comes free and she staggers, feeling more pain than she thought possible. She is hurt. Her senses recede, offering the comfort of unconsciousness. No. Her father would want her to be brave. He was a great warrior. She had seen his sword, a huge red thing almost his size that he lifted as easily as he lifted her. The look on his face had been so funny no no no no no had been so funny upside down on his severed head.
The girl's eye snaps open. More pain from the closed one. Her thoughts are clearer. She takes a second to breathe deeply, and coughs on the smoke in the air. Tears well in her good eye, blending the burning room into a swirling mass of orange. Something feels strange in her other eye, so she reaches up to clean it. Her arm doesn't work. She uses the other arm, relieved to see that it, at least, still does what she wants. There is blood on it, she notices as she gingerly cleans muck from her closed eye. Hers? Her father's? there was so much blood so much so much Her other eye opens as she cleans it, but she still can't see. More tears from both eyes.
I am hurt. I have to leave. The girl frowns, forcing herself to act, to walk away from the fire and towards the door. Her father would want- would have wanted her to be brave. But she can't stop crying. Rubbing her good eye again, she steels herself and looks at her useless arm. The kimono is ruined. It is torn and cut, great rents in the silk crusted with blood that can only be her own. She can't feel her arm any more. Fear grips her around the middle, like the time she was kidnapped. Her father wouldn't be coming to save her now. He was dead. The woman with the light had killed him. The girl couldn't remember her face, just the light that shone from her, from the golden disc on her forehead. Anathema. I have to leave.
The girl steps, tentatively at first, then with more assurance towards the door. Her mind races while part of her guides her feet along familiar paths. The fire is only inside the room. She knows the woman with the light, but she doesn't want to think about that. Her father would always want her to be brave. She swallows her tears this time, feels the lump settle in her stomach, a cold stone to match the chill of fear.
The shouting has stopped, she realises. She goes into the garden like it was any other bright, sunny day, and people are dying in the bushes. As she walks among them, wondering what to do, she sees one stand up. His skin is brown, the colour of her favourite dessert, and moss grows across his chin. The girl sees that he is hurt as well, but as she watches his skin crawls together and binds itself closed. She idly wonders where he learned to do that as they lock gazes. He looks surprised to see her, then nods. A gesture of respect. The girl stays where she is as he walks over and crouches in front of her.
"Be still, my child," he says, and even though the girl knows she isn't his child my father's dead! She says nothing. He has a stern face, but a kind voice. He smells of a garden in the rain. "By the grace of Sextes Jylis, you are saved."
Oh, she thinks. A monk. Then he brushes his hand across her face, and she slips into darkness as a field of green engulfs them both.
Scarlet Butterfly is a short Dynastic woman whose most obvious feature is her missing left arm, which healers were unable to save. Her second most obvious feature is a semi-permanent scowl. She wears her blonde hair waist-length and unkempt, mostly tied back but with just enough left to artfully fall across her face and conceal her missing left eye and the scarring that surrounds it. She likes the colour red, and most of her clothes are one shade of crimson or another. All of her clothes are functional rather than fashionable - she has never accepted a party invitation, and must be compelled to attend military events by her commanding officer. Her family has all but disowned her.
Butterfly is driven by a burning hatred of the Anathema. Her sister became one and, as Scarlet Butterfly sees it, in the process destroyed her entire immediate family. She has been turned down from the Wyld Hunt several times due to 'emotional imbalance', despite her proven skill in combat and ability to lead men. She is aggressive and passionate, and cares deeply about the well-being of her command. She can be rash, but is smart enough to obey orders almost all of the time.
Aspect: Fire
Concept: Baiken
Nature: Bravo
Attributes
Strength 4
Dexterity 4
Stamina 4
Charisma 4
Manipulation 1
Appearance 4 (If Appearance = Striking. If Appearance = Beauty, App 2)
Perception 3
Intelligence 3
Wits 4
Virtues
Compassion 2
Conviction 4
Temperance 1
Valour 4
Abilities
Linguistics 4 (Low Realm, High Realm, Riverspeak, Barbarian Tongues)
Lore 2
Thrown 2
Awareness 3
Endurance 3
Resistance 3 (Resisting Pain +3)
Athletics 4
Dodge 4
Melee 4 (Swords +1, Attacking +1)
Presence 4 (Leading Troops +1)
Socialise 2
Brawl 4
Bureaucracy 1
Medicine 2
Performance 1
Ride 1
Survival 1
Aspect or Favoured ability.
Backgrounds
Allies 3
Artefact 2
Command 3
Resources 3
Charms
Linguistics
Endurance
- Ox-Body x2
Resistance
- Strength of Stone Technique
- Impervious Skin of Stone Meditation
Athletics
- Effortlessly Rising Flame
- Falling Star Manoeuver
- Bellows-Pumping Stride
- Fiery Prowess
- Swift Legion Technique
Dodge
- Threshold-Warding Stance
- Hopping Firecracker Evasion
- Virtuous Negation Defence
- Flickering Candle Meditation
- Safety Among Enemies
Melee
- Dragon-Graced Weapon
- Ghost-Fire Blade
- Refining The Inner Blade
- Stoking Bonfire Style
- Deadly Wildfire Legion
Presence
- Phantom Fire-Warrior Horde
- Blazing Courageous Swordsmen Inspiration
Brawl
- Drowning Embrace
- Blade-Deflecting Palm
Combat Stats
(All including magical materials bonuses, where approproiate)
Base Initiative: 8 Attacks: Punch: Spd 8, Atk 8, Dmg 4B, Def 8 Kick: Spd 5, Atk 7, Dmg 6B, Def 7 Daiklave: Spd 14, Atk 12, Dmg 9L, Def 11 Javelins: Spd 8, Atk 7, Dmg 7L, Rate 2, Rng 30/60/90 Dodge Pool: 9 Soak: 10B/10L/6A Red Jade Collar (+2B/+2L) Red Jade Breastplate (+4B/+6L/+6A, no penalties) Willpower: 8 Health Levels: -0/-1/-1/-1/-2/-2/-2/-4/Incap Essence: 4 Personal Essence: 12 Peripheral Essence: 32 (25) Committed Essence: 7
Stuff:
Red Jade Daiklave, Red Jade Breastplate, Red Jade Collar Of Cleansing Light, red (non-jade) kimonos, Ward vs. Solar Exalts, javelins.
