My name is: Lillith Mayfair, but you can call me Lily.
And i am: Twenty one years old, just an average girl in her first year of college. I'm nothing special, really. Nobody really notices me or talks to me much. I suppose I don't really let them, though. I'm told I'm very talented and some people like to tell me I'm pretty, but I don't see what they see apparently. When I look in the mirror there's just me. Plain old Lillith Mayfair. Shy, quiet, Lillith Mayfair with her snowy white hair and silver-gray eyes.
What has been keeping you awake?: Whispers in the dark. Voices in the shadows. I swear I'm going insane. They can't be real though, right? They're quiet most of the time, like me. But when I try to sleep they practically scream. They call my name sometimes too, but they seem to speak in a whole different language half the time. I don't know why, but I get the feeling they want me to help them somehow...
What just happened to you?: I was just so tired, and they were just so loud...I told them to shut up. And they did. So I laid back down and closed my eyes (Oh god how I wish I didn't close my eyes). Then I heard one of them. Just one. And I opened my eyes...And she was there. She looked kind of like me, but her eyes were completely white and she was crying. Her tears kind of looked like liquid metal, now that I think about it. And her skin was pale, like mine, but it looked kind of like porcelain. It was cracked all around her face and hands. She was even dressed like me, in a pale blue nightgown. I tried to run but she started screaming something at me, something about "Don't look, don't go." I should have listened, but I tried to run out the door for pretty obvious reasons. It seemed like the thing to do, you know? But as soon as I opened the door all these cracked porcelain hands grabbed me and pulled me into darkness. And just as suddenly as they came they were gone. I opened my eyes and I was here on this balcony in this...city, I guess. It's more like a freakshow than a city. I haven't even TRIED going inside yet. I'm still kind of shaken.
What is on the surface?: Like I said, I'm a quiet, shy college girl. I'm a writer, and apparently a pretty talented one. I have really low self esteem and I have some serious depression issues. I'm just average, maybe even a little below average. The only thing I'm truly proud of is my imagination, even though it's really really dark and disturbing. I write horror, because I think horror. Despite the fact that my mind is full of the worst creatures and situations imaginable, when faced with danger I've always been better at talking my way out of things than running away or directly facing the problem. I'm pretty good at unraveling issues with words rather than force or agility.
What lies beneath?:
- Spoiler:
When I say I think horror, I really do mean horror. Not blood and gore, but psychological. And sometimes I swear I imagine these things so vividly that they become real. Do you know why I'm so shy and quiet in real life? It's because I've imagined myself a whole world where I'm not just a puppet. In my world, I hold the pen and I direct the plays. My mind is absolutely wretched and I've sure as hell got my kingdom. I guess I'm kind of split like that. Here I'm a nobody, and yet I reign supreme in my own mind.
What is your path?: I feel like I've been sucked into a kingdom disturbingly close to the one I THOUGHT I'd rather live in. I guess I have two options then...Take control or take my leave. And I haven't really decided which one I want to do. Give in or go home.
Responses
Fight: 2
Flight: 1
Exhaustion Talent= Sway: Choosing not to be the puppet of the situation, Lillith is able to sway an opponents decision in her favor. She's only able to tip the scales, not make up their mind, but depending on how effective it is she may be able to make it really hard for fate to play against her.
Madness Talent= Storybook Ending - You dream and doodle what you think sometimes, but that isnt always enough. When you write down something, or draw it, the things you let out sometimes stick around for a bit. Your words have meaning, enough meaning to do some serious damage.
1-2: You need a door, you REALLY need a door, you can almost see it in your head, under the wall before you, just waiting to spring forth...but then, all it needs is a little coaxing. A quick scrawl of "Door" reminds it what it is, and you slip through. You only wish you had thought of a place for it to lead.
3-4: You hate that guy chasing you, hes a pain in the ass. Everything agrees, he just needs to die. You snatch a word from your mind that means nothing, and yet means a lot, and you put it in the air. As the foul screeching thing flies off to do its dark deed you smile. It was nice to get that off your chest.
5-6: The world isn't quite close enough to how you think it should be. Too many people clogging things up, too many things that make you angry....what if...fire...what if pain....what if death...a single word and things have changed...for better? for worse? that's for you to decide, you're the author after all.
Dice: 6 Dicipline, 6 exhaustion, 8 madness needed total, just in case.
Your Curse: Anyone can get caught up in a good story, but more and more you feel like your story is beginning to write itself. The words and actions flow so easily. it is perfect freedom from your stress as an author, but gradually, you realize that things are happening that you really didn't intend. You don't remember writing a dragon into the mad city. No bother, you'll just edit that out...but you can't. you're dressed like a knight, riding gallantly towards the great beast. Then suddenly you are in a long overcoat and a tweed hat. You are searching for clues on a freshly murdered body. you know hes freshly murdered because you murdered him. You can't remember why, and suddenly you have a blaster. The evil aliens are all around, and you are a mighty wizard, and you are a queen, and you are a goblin and a god, and a mouse...and it's not up to you anymore. Insanity follows you everywhere as you are forced to play your role. You aren't the author anymore your just a "shameless Self-Insert".
----------------------