The nature of writing a character and what makes them think has been wandering around my head. Recently I wrote my secondary Mage, Ariel, and have been playing her online, in various scenes. Part of the benefit of doing so is that I get to see how she fits, what her strengths and weaknesses are, what she likes, does not like, what her morality is like.

I did not write this character with a goal in mind beyond wanting to play a pc that is very social, confident, dominant. This got me thinking though.

What make a person like that? What experiences will make them emotionally strong that they have the will not to flinch at having a man who is insane remove a gun from his pocket after saying he has no reason not to kill her. She held her ground, partly becuase she knew it was a test.

I have no clue what makes someone dominant. A top, if you like. Strong enough to stand their ground. Its not something I associate at all. That is not to say I don't think I can do it, because I know I can, I just don't know what would make this character do it.

So... questions I am trying to answer.....
What are her strengths.
What are her weaknesses.
What are her morals.
How does she deal with people she does not like/trust, but is still attracted to, perhaps even because of that? Her vice is linked to this. Sex and violence go hand in hand.
She is small, and this means she can be physically intimidated, but its not easy, because her resolve is good.
How did she get this strong? What events in her past have made her this way.

Ideas and suggestions are welcome.

Ariel hung up the phone, the sound echoing in the silence. Her hands shook very very slightly, but her mind, strengthened by the throwing off of the Lie so many lived, suppressed it with barely a thought.

Her mothers words….

‘Why do you ask? Did something happen?’ the shake in her voice imperceptible to all but a Mastigos, and her daughter.

Details…. Step by step her mind went back over the conversation.

“Mum…. I need to ask you something. I cannot explain why, but I want the truth.”

“Of course dear, are you in trouble?”

“No, nothing like that, but I’ve come across someone…. And her background is just like mine, and we were born on the same day, and she looks like me….”

Her mother cut her off.

“It’s a coincidence Ariel love. Stop thinking on it.” The shake in her voice was audible though.

“Your voice is shaking, why mum? Did dad – “

Her mother sighs. “You have a non fraternal twin out there. He took her with him….. “


Standing in the middle of the old run down living room, the petite girl tried to keep the rage under control. From the couch, the old hunter looked at her, as the chaos of Pandemonium spread around her, and then finally settled.

“I need to go to Oklahoma.”

He nods and calls an airline.
This did not happen. It was just some fun i had to write. but then i got writers block.


An Improbable meeting

The lights went down, and the music began. All around them, the sense of anticipation grows in the crowd, the pace of their hearts quickening in time to the rhythm of the music.

Escher had taken Caterina out for the evening, to this wonderful show – the Cirque du Soleil – Circus of the Sun. Its lips twitched slightly at the irony of the name.

The show began, beautiful bodies moving onto the stage, the lights came up, and the show commenced. Caterina loved it, looking at it with delight at her treat, while the Inquisitrix sat, looking through its hair, and enjoyed the beauty of the spectacle.

Back stage, on the catwalk where she could see everyone, she made the last minute touches to her costume. She had already warmed up, and was moving her limbs around to keep them warm. Finally her cue came, and she took the ropes in her hands, and began to undulate down them, her hands sure, her legs straight, performing a trick she knew like the back of her hand, she had performed it so many times.

Part way down, she sees them, as one leg leaves the rope and grasps the other one, curling around it, taking her across the stage. The young woman sat at the angel’s side, he who was not what he appeared…

He looked up, and his breath was stolen as its eyes went wide. The body coming down the rope was slim, muscular, and the face was beautiful. It felt the heat sweep over it, as it looked up, watched the ripple of muscle as the boy moved down the rope, extended a foot out, wrapped it around a second one, and drew itself into the splits between the two lengths. The creature moved with inordinate grace, flowing like water from one place to another, and then finally to the floor, bending and twisting in amazing configurations and finally coming to a rest, on her chin, facing them, one leg bent over and landing next to her face.

She looks straight at him, and smiles. A very androgynous girl.

In a compound on the outskirts of Lyon

The Master had her raised in a vastly different environment. As he watched her, grow, train, and move, she found she was brilliantly talented in arts that were not directly about destruction. She watched, explored, found things, put things together...

And her flexibility was unrivalled.

As she grew, she became an utterly enchanting child, with dark hair, and blue eyes, slim, lithe and flexible. He fostered her talents, and watched her, thinking.

Once she reached the age of 11, her body rounded out a little, no longer the androgyny of a little girl, but shaped like a woman. She was still slim to the point of boyishness, and frighteningly flexible - something that would not change. He came to see her one day, watching her train. Nothing like the other - in feature, colouring, and behaviour - so incredibly fae, but pretty in a strange, otherworldly way.

She walked into her room, after her training session and shower, and he followed in the chair. She had been disturbed, discovering him sitting in the chair, watching her as she washed the sweat from her training off her - he had studied her, so completely boyish, but with hips and waist, not like a child. He said nothing, but looked ... angry, worried.

"Eight. You have been growing, since I saw you last." She turns, about to get dressed, and he speaks again. "Take that off. I want to see you." Silently she does so, her body naked, as he looks over her. Flat chested as a boy, slim, lithe. Hips starting to curve, the hair that marked her as no longer a child. Not curvy, nothing like his favourite. He speaks again. "Have you begun to bleed? Cramps in your abdomen, blood that will come and go, but no wounds?" She shakes her head, confusedly. He looks relieved and then leaves.

She grabs her clothes, a strange feeling in her - an odd sort of tension that made her want to run.


He left the compound, to return to Helsinki. As he did so, he noticed in passing that the Cirque was in town.


2 days later

She had a terrible dream, of fire and crushing earth, smoke, unable to breathe... She was running, trying to get away, and found all the doors were locked. Waking in horror, the feeling not leaving her, she got up and went into the halls. There were only a few people around, and as she walked down the hall, a faint percussive boom was felt...... A moment of suspension, as she looked up, and then twisted, moving fast, to under a support beam, as the concrete collapsed......

An eternity passed, and when she came back to consciousness, she was curled into an impossibly small space, and all around her was the scent of blood, and carbide, and dust. By some miracle she was not badly injured, and after a time, she worked out that there was a small gap where fresh air was getting in. Wriggling, inhaling, moving slowly, she dragged herself through tiny gaps, pausing, stopping to rest. Finally, after hours, she saw sunlight. Hiding, she waited for a chance, watching the men walking around, and as they moved on, she slipped out and ran, sure of her balance, and escaped.

In the distance, she could see the spires of the Grande Chapiteau....



The Master closed the file, sitting silently. No survivors.



March 2009

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