About Morien ArgallFull name: Morien Reece Argall
Stress:
Consequences: None. Skills: (30pts)
Stunts:
Powers:
Significant Items:
* "Mote", outrigger sailboat: Morien's home, built with her own hands. Aspect: A Piece of My Heart - The Mote is invested with every bit of its' makers' passion, faith, and skill, and has been entrusted with her life many times over. While technically unliving matter, under this most primitive of magics the Mote... responds. It can come to heel when called (within reason), follows her will as if a part of her body, and for all supernatural purposes is an integral part of Morien herself. * "Flowing Frost", luxury car with a predators' soul. Aspect: Wild Winter's Gift - Frost is gift from the Winter court, a reward for service to Winter's emmissary. It can act of its own accord, including just happening to be where someone it likes needs a lift. But never, ever, think that you own it. Affinity points: 2 (+1 to future attunement rolls) Mundane Gear:
Non-physical Assets & Debts:
Fate:
Aspect I: Liminal
Longstory is long:
Born to a selkie father and human mother in Los Angeles, Morien was left to the latter entirely when her father could no longer resist the call of the ocean and returned to his sailing career. Over the years her mother had two purely mortal children and picked up a habit of turning to drink to escape her problems. She also kept an eagle-eye on Morien, attempting to stamp out any sign of the fey strangeness that reminded her of the man who had loved the sea more than any mere person.
And so it was that Morien learned early that nobody else heard rain as chimes or breaking waves as drums and gongs; never to speak of it. Nor did she mention the dreams of flying more than swimming underwater and the salty taste that lingered on waking from one. It was after such, lying awake in bed on the night of her seventh birthday and wanting to live in the dream more than she'd wanted anything before, that Morien changed. Getting her wish caused only frozen panic: What if she was seen? As the minutes ticked by, only her mothers' snoring - she always snored when she'd drunk herself into a stupor - and the omnipresent sounds of traffic disturbed the city night. Looking over to the other beds, the slight illumination of streetlights which made it through the blinds was enough, as it always had been. She could now hear as well as see her half-sibs' (never allowed to forget that 'half-') slow and even breathing. North was where it always was, fuzzed up by the city's silent confusion of power lines and powered devices. But. She needed to hide, and how could she even get out of the room without hands? The mere touch of will caused her second skin to sluff off, returning her to human form wrapped in a seal's pelt. She didn't know what it was, but it felt as much a part of her as her own skin. One more secret to join the others. In the tiny apartment where Morien's family lived, such a secret couldn't last. Not when she longed to sleep with all her parts together, if still human. It wasn't even a year before her mother dragged Morien and her second skin outside in the middle of the night to burn the pelt in the fire pit of a nearby park. It had felt like she herself was being consumed by the flames, but her mother held her still - made her watch the fire - no matter how she fought. Nobody investigated her shrieking. It was that kind of neighborhood. The reek of burning hair still clung to her in the morning. She didn't cry; the hollow space in her chest couldn't give rise to tears. Anger, though. That it could do. Morien didn't so much make a decision as observe that it was obvious she would have to run away. She'd need to be careful and do it right. If you didn't, the police caught you and brought you back. She'd seen it happen to one of the boys next door. Morien didn't know all of what "right" was, but that was okay. She'd figure it out. First, you needed somewhere to go... Any time she could run loose, Morien began to haunt the ownerless places of the city. Rooftops, alleyways, docks and shoreline, all explored with the fearlessness of someone with nothing to lose. Aspect II: Still Waters Run Deep
Write until it's done:
Fourteen. Six-and-change years since Morien had resolved to escape. It was galling that age was the main reason people were tied to their blood-family. Still, there were things she could do. Setting up bolt-holes had gotten easier as she had grown taller and stronger, and two were likely enough to be overlooked that stocking them with cans of soup and tuna from dumpster diving wasn't a waste of effort. She spent as little time as possible at home, which suited everyone. As for school, neither Morien's mother nor her teachers expected much, and they got it. The other students simply avoided her. There was something off about the girl. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, or the way she wouldn't tolerate even the smallest white lie. Later, it certainly had to do with the way she would sometimes look at a person as though reading their soul - and then flee.
For herself, those times caused Morien to wonder if she was going crazy. Unbidden moments that showed the insides of things on their outsides, and some things that otherwise didn't seem to be there at all. She guessed, though she couldn't be sure, that the especially bizarre way people appeared was the inside of their head showing. If she wasn't just hallucinating all of it. She'd never done drugs, but she'd heard of stuff that wasn't too different. Venturing north past Skid Row and into New Chinatown in the spring of that year, Morien happened on a martial arts class being taught in the open air. Drawn in by the grace and artistry of it, she watched until one of the older students invited her with a wave. She found a place at the back, hoping to escape at the end without needing to talk with anyone. When the time came to pair off for application practice, though, she was surprised by the old woman who taught the class arriving as though out of nowhere right beside her. Forgetting caution, Morien met the instructors' brown-black eyes and found herself falling into a canyon. Loss, lack, and fear had worn its channels deep. A ragged banner hung from the red earth of one layer, bearing the motto "Strike the Battle Drum of the Great Leap Forward". A begging bowl protruded from a deeper strata. Lower still, granite stability allowed for deliberate shaping into elegant forms of strength and grace. Order emerging from chaos and ceding to it in turn, without resistance. At the very bottom of the canyon, the river was placid. Warm, even welcoming, when she plunged into it. And possessed of a fierce current that threatened to rip the girl from her body. When normal reality reasserted itself, Morien became aware that for the first time, someone had seen her as she did them. She braced for the inevitable dismissal from the ranks of Worthwhile People, but it didn't come. She read only assessment followed by a decision: "You have potential. Talk with me after class." There was no doubt that she would. The rest of the session was a blur. Morien didn't trip over her own feet or pick up any new bruises, so it must have been successful. Afterwards, the teacher led her to a tea house off to one side of the plaza where the proprietor had already saved her a table. She didn't wait for the tea, but began as soon as they had ordered. "You study with me. For a price." It was not a request.
And so it went. Sensei Abuela, as one of the regular students called her, gave impromptu lessons on topics ranging from the basics of magic to the uses of discarded produce in cooking. Morien was just shy of fifteen when her mentor brought up the issue of her seal-skin and urged her to try calling it as that weeks' assignment. It was a suggestion rather than an order, seeming hesitant by contrast. The way that Morien's smile glowed the following week was all the confirmation of success that she needed. Aspect III: Sea Change
Aspect IV: Okay, Maybe I Don't Hate You
Aspect V: Where Were You When York Burned?
Physical Description:
Soulgaze:
She may be outwardly calm, but under the surface Morien contains a roiling tempest of pain and rage and a desire to lash out that strikes an unwary viewer almost like a physical blow. Then one finds the still center--the eye of a hurricane--which keeps all that force organized and directed so that it can accomplish something rather than dissipating self-destructively. Even here, in stillness, the selkie is as untamed as the seas of water and air that give rise to mundane storms. Then, it's over. Normalcy reasserts. But the scent of salt air lingers. Seal form:
Skills: (30pts) +4: Survival, Alertness +3: "Fists", Endurance, Presence, Investigation +2: Athletics, Discipline, Lore, Empathy +1: Might, Rapport, Stealth Physical Description:
|
