Age VI (Immortal) | Acerbus | Vagabond | Priestess | Chaotic Neutral | Pansexual | Voice

                    

Your presence is an honor. Don't think I wont take advantage. Your mind is a graveyard filled with flowers, and I am aching to walk amidst its dark beauty. Tell me what it is you seek most in this world, divulge to me what you wish. My eyes ever roving, sensory famishment ignited, we really do have so much to do, and so much to talk about.

                    

Tread carefully, dears.

                    

Valypto Alomara Pythia, Vagabond of the South

                
            
            
                                                  
                    

I could part with 'one' and still be feared

                    

There is an air of repugnance that surrounds her, penetrates her, and emanates from her lithe body in a ghostly cascade of ghoulish countenance. Tresses agleam with druid illusion, she a quiet siren of the dark, for her power belies within the stark white of an opaline gaze, ever beckoning the inquisitive natures of those around her. A boa of fur amasses upon the svelte course of her neck, gracefully tapering down each curve of ample breastbone, spine, and hinds.

Ever prim, she is but a whisper trapped betwixt the colors of an exotic sea, forever delved therein the throes of sylph hypnotism. Her tail trails behind, trussed and bound by silver bangles, brocaded with sticks and moss, burrs and flowers whose very seeds were sewn within the pelagic threads. Ears tall, slender, and alert, they adorn a single sterling hoop in each supple lobe. She is the chosen toxin of many; a compiled taste of saccharine dreams, and the bitter sting of death.                     

                
            
            
                                                  
                    

Bathing in the sun and moonlight of uncertainty

 

FLAWS
A selfish brute manifested within the body of a slender radiant goddess, she takes all for herself and leaves nothing. She picks corpses clean until nothing is left but the gleaming white bones. A devourer, a consumer, she is a wandering maiden with gifts aplenty, and there is a slim chance she will share without naming a hefty price.
LIKES
Various species of mushrooms, mixing potions, harvesting herbs, sampling her hallucinogenic concoctions, going on spirit quests, conversing with the trees and grass, discussing politics and philosophy with Liv'resse through emotions, nights filled with stars, vast jungle landscapes, colorful flora.
HOPES
To be masterful in the iniquitous craft of clairvoyance and supernaturalism, to become one and all with every particle of energy, to ascend, to rebirth herself a hundred thousand times and another million more, to never stray the path and yet always stray the path, to stay connected forever and always, deciphering the darkness
FEARS
Disconnection, spiritual loneliness, reaching rock bottom and losing her faith, being swallowed by the darkness, becoming one with the darkness, bowing and subjugating herself to the darkness, harnessing the darkness, losing her husband or children to the more profound and final methods of death
                    

She waxes an ancient precipice, gorged of sentience and absurdity, of tantalizing bedlam, whose shadowy tendrils reach for, and enter her mind, welcomed, and seduced. A known portal to dimensions elsewhere, the woman is a door to the endless void, wherein stars and intelligent life are hatched and brutally nursed into this strange, astral universe. Embodying the darkness through decadent chaos, she crawls, and she is quiet. An argus-eyed demoness, her tongue is plated with silver, and her throat pledged to secrecy. It does not hurt her to lie; and yet the truth is a mutable, and adaptable weapon. Always in the midst of umbraic pulsation, receptors ceaselessly fire; she hears most, feels nearly all.

In such a mind there is no death, only rebirth, and one must shed the shroud of flesh given from birth to begin if just once more. Life is a cherished commodity, and yet death comes to her, painted in all forms. Her very breath is a lethal echo, the sweetest of turkish delights, and softest of powdered sugar, unbridled temptation; all but poisoned meat for ritualistic feasting. To deem her despicable would be crass. Her eerie ubiquity is laced with a noble, perhaps even docile poise, as she is opulence turned barbarian, not vice versa. Ever still frigid, but embedded within the throes of wild-eyed desire, she wakes again, the creeping stream that erodes into a canyon.

                                   
            
            
                                                  
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These everlasting chronicles will be sung



F A T H E R

Sarraccus Pythia

M O T H E R

Lothara Pythia

M A T E

Jackal Vur

L A N T E R N

Liv'resse


O F F S P R I N G

Valdese Rue
Zenphobos Vur
Mirror Vur
Sylvianna Rue
Nathara Rue


S O U L S H A D O W

Luchiya
Species: Unicorn

Valypto's Detailed History in Victus


THE BEGINNINGS

THE TUTELAGE

THE ARRIVAL

THE MAN NAMED VUR

THE MOON ON HER KNEES

THE VUR MAN'S MASKS

NIRRITH'S FIERY HEART

MOTHERHOOD

THE GOLDEN RIVER

A QUAIL'S CALL

HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN

VUR'S HAUNTINGS

LUCHIYA, THE SOUL SHADOW

LOVELY & LITTLE EIN SOF

THE UNIVERSE SCREAMS

THE CALL OF MORVI

A BIRTH THEREIN BIOMATTER