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thecreaturecodex · 1 year

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Animabri

“Southern ground hornbill” © ArtStation user “Reptile without any name”. Accessed at their ArtStation here

[Animabri appears in the creation myths of the Krachi people of Togo and Ghana; specifically, he is the first creature to kill humans. In Harold Scheub’s A Dictionary of African Mythology, Animabri is referred to as a “giant ground toucan”. Which is not a thing that exists, and if it did, wouldn’t exist in Africa. It’s a hornbill. So this entry pulls in some other ground hornbill lore from throughout Africa to round out what I could only find passing references to.]

Animabri CR 9 CE Magical Beast This great black bird has an oversized beak with a short crest at its base. Colorful patches of bare flesh mark its face, and hang from its neck in a wattle.

The animabris are sinister avian predators that resemble a ground hornbill the size of an elephant. They have powers over death and misfortune, and people where animabris roam are leery of even mundane hornbills. Although they are fully flighted, an animabri is not very agile in the air, so spends most of its time on the ground. Animabris have incredibly keen vision, and ignore invisibility and illusions. They use this in their pursuit of small game. “Small” in this case is proportionate to the animabri, so includes creatures such as antelope, wild pigs and people.

An animabri is shrouded by a perpetual aura of misfortune. Most creatures are cursed by its mere presence, making fighting back against such a beast difficult. This curse of misfortune is temporary, but a well-placed peck or claw can bestow a more permanent curse on an enemy. Victims slain by an animabri have their souls severed from their bodies, making them harder to raise from the dead. Incorporeal undead tend to be more common than usual in animabri country, although the monstrous birds do not associate with such restless spirits.

Most animabris live in social units consisting of a single family—a mated pair and their adult children. These families are insular and clannish. They fight to the death with other animabris over hunting territory. Only when the parents grow old does the family split up, each member trying to find a mate to start its own little clan. Despite their group living, they are more competitive than cooperative when it comes to foraging, and may bicker over a choice meal or trinket. Animabris are interested in treasure, but have little idea of value. Their hoards contain the most brightly colored and shiniest objects they can find, regardless of their actual worth.

An animabri can live around 40-50 years. They can speak Common, which they use primarily to deliver threats and boasts.

Animabri CR 9 XP 6,400 Init +7; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +21, true seeing Aura misfortune (30 ft., DC 17) Defense AC 23, touch 13, flat-footed 18 (-2 size, +4 Dex, +1 dodge, +10 natural) hp 115 (11d10+55) Fort +12, Ref +11, Will +9 DR 10/magic; Immune curses, death effects, negative energy, patterns, phantasms Offense Speed 30 ft., fly 50 ft. (poor) Melee bite +15 (2d6+6/19-20 plus grab), 2 claws +15 (1d6+6) Space 15 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks cursed critical, sever life Statistics Str 22, Dex 19, Con 21, Int 8, Wis 19, Cha 14 Base Atk +11; CMB +20 (+24 grapple); CMD 34 Feats Critical Focus, Dodge, Improved Critical (bite), Improved Initiative, Multiattack, Power Attack Skills Fly +6, Perception +21; Racial Modifiers +8 Perception Languages Common Ecology Environment warm forests and plains Organization solitary, pair or party (3-6) Treasure incidental Special Abilities Aura of Misfortune (Su) All creatures within 30 feet of an animabri must succeed a DC 17 Will save or be cursed with misfortune, rolling all d20 rolls twice and taking the worse result. This effect lasts for as long as the creature remains within 30 feet of the animabri, and for 1d4+1 rounds thereafter. A creature that succeeds its save is immune to that animabri’s aura of misfortune for the next 24 hours. This is a curse effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Cursed Critical (Su) If an animabri successfully confirms a critical hit against an opponent, that creature must succeed a DC 17 Will save or be cursed (as per bestow curse—the animabri chooses the effect). The save DC is Charisma based. Sever Life (Su) A creature that is killed by an animabri is difficult to return to life; such a creature can only be raised or resurrected with a successful DC 24 caster level check. This is a curse effect. True Seeing (Su) An animabri gains the constant benefits of a true seeing spell as a supernatural ability.

#animabri #ground hornbill #hornbill #krachi #ghana #togo #african mythology #pathfinder 1e #world tour

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othercat2 · 4 years

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Fic Snip: Dragonet

This snippet is based off of @asukaskerian‘s fic Bloodsport, and therefore, is entirely her fault.

In which Ichigo’s Inner Dragon has a novel solution to Ichigo being left alone on a world with no intelligent life. The alone part. Not the leaving. That’s outside Spike’s wheelhouse.

He loses track quickly, after the first storm of rage and despair. Ichigo doesn’t wake back up, not into his own head and to his surroundings. Not for days, not for weeks even. Intelligence in a social animal is contraindicated when there is no society for it to interact with. It’s safer not to think, only to act and feel. The Bauplan knows what to do, so it’s easy to let it do what it wants.

What it wants is a territory, a secure den with access to water. It wants to drive away other predators and it wants to hunt. In a general sense, it’s aware of the changing of seasons and anticipates the coming of winter. The Bauplan is not actually designed for the environment it’s found itself in. It can lean hard on the knowledge of the part that is more or less Ichigo, use it to make plans and adapt. Ichigo had survival training for multiple environments, something the part of him that was dragon did not.

The problem was, every time the dragon accessed its greater intelligence, its memories of being Ichigo, something in it, in him, revolted. It remembered it was alone. It remembered there was such a thing as loneliness, and it was a thing that could be fatal. It remembered it had been abandoned, and its thoughts would go strange, full of rage and reckless despair. He would scream and scream, thrash his way through the forest, destroy everything in line of sight until he collapsed with exhaustion. He would forget again, diving deep into a fugue as the dragon shuddered away from raw new instincts, emotion, thoughts.

Eventually, Ichigo grows more lucid. Planning for winter, when you weren’t sure how long that it would last required more advance thought than the autopilot of dragon instinct and behavior. (Did Hollows go into hibernation?) He shores up his new den, finds comfortable bedding, finds out what’s edible for his new body and stocks up on that. The leaves turn, and it gets colder. There are migratory water birds settling on his lake. His body pushes him to eat, but also store food. He builds a smoker for the meat he catches, and a rough hearth for his den.

He forages for edible plants, and weaves crude baskets from water reeds. He scavenges the wreckage of that-bastard-Aizen’s outpost for useful items, or to make new tools. Occasionally, he thinks he catches a hint of his prey-mate’s scent and this alternately makes him feel hopeful, angry, wistful. (Some part of him wishes he’d eaten the arrancar. The rest carefully backs away from that thought and locks the door. Then it goes and hides under its new tanned fur blankets for a while.)

Winter is…. He doesn’t hibernate exactly, he just sort of slows down and sleeps for longer and longer periods of time, waking only to eat before burrowing back into his furs. Occasionally, when he can’t stand the stink of his den anymore, he crawls out of his den and rolls in the snow, and tries to clean his fur blankets by scrubbing them with fistfuls of snow and tree needles. Its during one of these hygiene attempts when he notices something.

Ichigo had already been aware that he was getting bigger, developing a layer of fat over the muscle and bone. He had mostly put it off, thinking that he was just finally filling out after having been starved and experimented on by that-bastard-Aizen. Or even though the “dragon” was otherwise reptilian (except for his hair) he was building a fat reserve for winter. This new thing that he notices is a lump the size of his fist located just to the left of his spine, just above the base of his tail. He hadn’t noticed it until that moment, and it didn’t seem to be impeding his movement. At the same time, his stomach does a slow dip and roll, thinking of tumors. He thinks of cancer and of being sick and alone on an alien planet.

It makes him angry, and that burns a little through the sudden fog of fear. Ichigo remembers (he hadn’t really forgot) he could change modify his shape. Maybe if it was a tumor, if it was cancerous, he could shape it away the way he could change the shape of his horns, assume a battle shape or put it aside. (He doesn’t think about the possibility that this is a cancer that’s the result of his abilities. That whatever experiments had been done, he was an exemplar of whatever Aizen had been trying to achieve. If he’d been trying to achieve something besides sadistic torture.) He gathers up his blankets and goes back to his den.

He stirs up his fire, adding kindling until he has a good blaze going. He busies himself his hanging up his furs to dry, and making a meal for himself, eating, not letting himself think about the possibilities concerning the tumor. This was nothing to panic about, it might not be cancerous. It might just be some new fuckery with this new and unfamiliar body-self. He can shape it away.

Ichigo can’t shape it away. It’s a tough and fibrous mass, rooted along his spine, under his skin, and it won’t budge, resisting his attempts to shape it. He panics a little at this realization, but calms himself down before he tries anything stupid with his sad attempts at flint knapping. Instead, he engages in an inward study of his body, almost meditative as he tried to figure out the nature of this thing.

It was definitely attached to his spine, to his actual nerve tissue. (This is disturbing.) Veins and arteries had been diverted through the mass. (It’s even more disturbing that the immediate word that came to mind is “diverted” as if it had been done deliberately somehow.) Ichigo has the very strong sense that everything is as it should be. (Again, this is very disturbing.) The mass was the right size and shape for its development, and the combination of parts that were him-and-not-him would be a good one even if…

Oh no.

Oh no this was even worse than cancer.

Ichigo doesn’t want to think about what he thinks this might be. He doesn’t want this to be what he thinks this might be. He hadn’t needed the fugue state the dragon could pull him into in a long while, but it’s an easy drop.

Ichigo doesn’t think about what’s happening. He eats and sleeps and when his stores grow low, he starts hunting. His body shapes itself bigger to protect the growing mass. More armor, greater strength and endurance. He knows the when the midpoint of winter, the solstice arrives, and judges the time to spring, roughly. The awareness that the “mass” is a bud, that he’s somehow pregnant, grows with the complexity of the mass. It starts to develop its own nervous and circulatory system, the mass develops a skeleton, muscle tissue, organs surrounded by a caul of the original mass.

It’s about a month after the solstice, when Shiro is “born.” The Hollow had become more and more active, shifting restlessly along Ichigo’s spine. Ichigo could sense the creature’s restless, impatient feelings. It felt trapped. It felt frightened. It felt hungry and angry. It dreamed, indistinct images that made Ichigo wonder if the creature was somehow seeing through his eyes.

Ichigo is hemming a pair of pants when his back suddenly spasms with pain. Ichigo drops his sewing, falling onto his side with a cry. He can feel the skin on his back ripple. This followed by the Hollow moving with sudden violence, panicky and confused. Ichigo, breathless with pain, almost laughs. “You’ve been complaining about being bored.” He groan-laughs. “But now you’re scared because it’s not?”

The rippling pain continues, accompanied by waves of fear and the occasional confused struggling of the Hollow. It might have been hours before a final spasm ends with a wet sounding split, and the feeling of something pulling free. The Hollow squalls, full of gut twisting hunger as it pulls free, rips out of its caul. Ichigo snarls back. An enraged sound that have very little of the parental to it. Some part of him took that hunger as a direct threat, and responded. The Hollow’s fear blares in Ichigo’s head, and feeling sudden guilt, he rolls, trying to see the Hollow, comfort it somehow.

Too late though, all Ichigo sees is a tiny flash of white, skittering out of the den. “No!” Ichigo shouts, and struggles up, despite the flaring pain in his back. It’s gone and Ichigo hurts too much to move. He loses consciousness, aching physically and emotionally.

#bleach #ichigo kurosaki #hollows sure are weird!#fan fic fan fic #mpreg #sort of #body horror

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breakdawn-avenue · 7 years

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ZarcRayWeek, Day 3: Sacrifice

Day 1: Hear me || Day 2: Turn my world upside down || Day 3: I’m restless and wild Summary: When pain and anger are taking its toll, no one’s save. But who will be the one to catch the other before the fall? Word count: 2.535 Note: Minor character death, I think, even though it’s not permanent but in a way implied.

Even with her mask on, Ray could recognize the disbelief in Heaven’s face. She just came back and had no idea what apocalypse was unleashed upon Sky-City. She only knew that the surface was different than before and the atmosphere, eerily and heavy, changed for the worse. No more masses of loud chattering people on the streets. No more chirping birds and buzzing bees in the air. The sky had turned black like the night, dark clouds shielding the sun. Sky-City wasn’t her home anymore and that frightened her visibly to the core. »What happened?!« She didn’t know yet. Sky-City became a city of whispers. Screams were now the indication of terror. Because where the screams were, so was destruction. Thus, Ray, as well as her father, hushed her immediately. »The anger, baby... the anger took over him and he’s rampaging since... and they completely destroyed Sky-City... « »They?« Hesitance at first. »This human being became one with his four ferocious dragons.,« Leo stated grimly. »They are now known as ‘Supreme Dragon King Zarc’.« Trembling hands covered her open mouth. Ray didn’t need to see her eyes to know how shocked Heaven was. She helped her to sit down on the makeshift bed. Leo returned to his research, desperately trying to stop Zarc, once and for all. »Ra, no... « »Our promise wasn’t enough... I – I should have- « »It’s my fault... « Ray startled. She immediately argued back: »Baby, no! You were exhausted- « »Because I never told him why I needed to go to the Andean Hills- « »Because you needed to recharge! Heaven, baby – your condition- « »I should have told him about my poor condition!,« Heaven sobbed quietly. »Honey, I promised him to be there for him, no matter what – and yet I failed him every time!« »It’s not your fault! You needed- « »We need to talk to him... or rather I need to talk to him- « »What?! Are you out of your mind?! He’s dangerous- « »Honey, please. Of course he’s dangerous, he always was. But so are we!« Ray didn’t expect to hear this. Was this the reason neither of them was able to properly socialize? She never thought it was possible that other people could sense their abilities of being Whisperers. She never thought that they had more powers than being able to hear Duel Spirits. Was this the reason why Zarc was able to merge with his Heavenly Dragons? Or was it something else? Something hidden, so deep down that he didn’t want to tell anyone. Something he didn’t want anyone to know. Something that wasn’t visible, no one could feel or no one could even think of. Maybe something that even Zarc himself wasn’t aware of? They ran. Heaven went ahead and nearly bumped into the wall, the rest of it that was left of the abandoned building Ray and her father had found as a shelter for the time being. Ray tried to stop her best friend, tried to reason with her. Driven by the mad illusion, a simple talk would magically undo all his wrongs, Heaven was leading the way as if she would be able to see it. Ray couldn’t prevent every fall when she stumbled or tripped over debris. But she always was back to her feet the moment after she fell, not even flinching once, and dragged Ray further along. Both of them were facing him, bruised and battered. But before Ray could even stop her, Heaven called after him. »Why now?,« the monster before them hissed angrily. It still didn’t face them but it didn’t attack more innocent people either. »I’ve waited so long for you!« »Please, I wish to speak to you!« He descended on the magenta coloured stone both of them were standing. But the creature before them wasn’t the young man anymore they knew. The gray hair with green wisps was an untamable mess, skin so pale it looked undead, cheeks cracked, golden eyes hollow and glowing, almost glowing blood red, dry lips drawing a wicked smile, human ears replaced by something that resembled a fan, black long claws, a long black and green glowing tail twitching in anger behind him, his once ridiculous cowboy outfit hung shredded on him while he himself slouched. Ray never knew how much she loved his ridiculous cowboy outfit up until now. She missed the young man he used to be. She missed her soulmate. The one who used to fanboy over her and stole her heart in the very second he introduced himself. »I cannot remember anymore... « The monstrous creature growled lowly, golden eyes glowing eerily. »When was the last time I didn’t feel like suffocating? The last time I was not frozen in time? When I ever felt whole!?« »It’s my fault. I wasn’t able to see the emptiness in you.,« Ray confessed quietly. Tears rolling down her cheeks. »You know nothing about me!,« the monster screamed furiously. »I wasn’t there when you needed me... ,« Heaven admitted in tears. »You’re too late. Both of you!« He was aiming at Ray. But the one he attacked was Heaven. She tackled Ray out of the way before either of them could react. Ray’s eyes widened in disbelief as she saw Heaven falling to the ground, bleeding and grasping desperately for air. Ray held her tight, so tight it hurt, crying and screaming, pleading not to leave her. With unyielding rage, she promised him to pay. Somehow, Heaven still found the strength to push her best friend again. This time, Ray fell off the slope. Amethyst coloured eyes widened before Zarc finished what he had started. Ray screamed again. The following blackness took away all her raging emotions. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Zarc wakes up with a jolt. A yelp escapes him that he isn’t able to hold back. Big golden eyes are searching frantically through his surrounding, completely unfamiliar in the very first moment. Where is he? Why is it so bright in this room? He tries to catch his breath as if he ran the two miles from Ray’s home to the Azada-Palace. His heartbeat seems to have the same speed. He looks at his hands which were normal human-sized and without any claws. No blood on them. They are beige, a little bit pale but definitely not so pale and undead they seemingly were some moments ago. “Hey, what happened?” Hearing Ray so suddenly startles him again. He doesn’t know why but he hides his hands behind his back. Genuine concern is seen in her eyes. She knits her eyebrows before she sits next to him on the couch. His couch. Heaven’s old couch. Still a new one. Just like everything else in this little cottage. It borders on the garden which belongs to Heaven’s mother. He moved in with Heaven while Shun took in their father after they lost the right to live in the Azada-Palace. He remembers now. “I... where’s Heaven?” “Outside. With our Duel Spirits.,” Ray replies and tilts her head slightly to the side. “You sure you’re okay?” Zarc avoids to look her in the eyes. The image of the destroyed Sky-City, the scared, screaming and running people, him killing Heaven, Ray screaming with all her might at him. All these pictures don’t leave his mind. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to wave it off with an easygoing “All good, all good!”. He should have known better than to believe Ray would buy that. She doesn’t let him stand up. Instead, she cups his face and kisses him softly on his lips. He doesn’t shove her away but he doesn’t respond to the kiss either. After a short while, Ray sighs quietly. “What could be possibly so bad, you wouldn’t want to tell me?,” she mumbles on his lips before she leans back. Zarc avoids her gaze again. “You didn’t have fun with anyone else, did you?” A little try to be funny. Maybe even a little bit teasing. But with all these heavy images in his mind, he doesn’t feel like playing along. “ ...Would it make you feel better if I tell you that I love you? No matter what?,” Ray asks after a short while. Zarc doesn’t respond to that. He still avoids her gaze. “I know I’m pushing. I probably shouldn’t do it... but I know from personal experience that hiding everything from the ones we love just makes it worse. Besides... I hope I don’t give you the impression that you have to be a strong man all the time. Rather... the place you can find peace. Just like you are for me... ” Zarc closes his eyes and huffs quietly. “It’s not... you could hate me. I don’t want to ruin our relationship. It’s great between us. I... I don’t want to endanger this peace.,” he admits. Ray reaches out and slowly takes his hand into hers. She gives him a peck on his cheek. “I could never hate you.,” she reassures him. Zarc doesn’t feel convinced by that. He pushes the blanket to the side someone must have thrown over him when he already was sleeping. This time, Ray lets him stand up. Zarc leaves the bedroom through the balcony door. He places his hands on the fence but he grasps them too tight so that his knuckles turn white. Slowly, Ray approaches him. She snuggles up to his back. With that, she lets her magic work again. And somehow, Zarc finds it a little bit easier to breathe. Ray feels it, too, as she reaches forth and lays her hands on his stomach. Zarc huffs quietly. He looks through the garden. He finds Starve Venom near the pond that indicates the middle of the garden, relaxing in the warm afternoon’s sun. Heaven is just before him, snuggled up in his arms. Next to them are ‘Lyrical Luscinia Advance-Angel Ruriel’ and ‘Melodious Blooming Xyz-Angel Yuziel’, two of the princess’s Heavenly Angels. A hollow impact to his right makes him sigh quietly. Odd Eyes and Clear Wing are trying to play with Dark Rebellion who wants nothing more than relax, too. ‘Windwitch Clear Bell Synchro-Angel Riniel’ is helping the two kittenish dragons. The last one of the Heavenly Angels, ‘Lunalight Dancer Fusion-Angel Sereniel’, is training with two of Ray’s Crystron monsters, Rosenix and Rion at the farther end of the garden. Zarc still can’t believe that Ray’s father was able to install his Real Solid Vision on this garden. A shelter for their Duel Spirits that’s luckily still not found by Sky-City’s citizens. “Starve Venom announced earlier that Heaven is now his child.,” Ray tells him. “And he wouldn’t let anyone come near her again. Only her Angels are allowed.” Zarc’s snort sounds dry. “Traitor! He always snubs about me being their child.” Ray giggles softly. “You’re the dragons’ love child, aren’t you?” “Gosh, Ray, you’re gross!” Ray giggles again. “But then again I’m surprised it’s Starve Venom who pampers her now.,” she says after a while. “True, true... ” “I would have guessed Odd-Eyes would be the most protective over Heaven... maybe even Dark Rebellion.” “They all love Heaven.,” Zarc states. “That’s right... ” They are silent again. Zarc watches as Odd-Eyes tries to lift Dark Rebellion on his back. The latter tries to jump off but Clear Wing wouldn’t let him. As he watches them playing this carefree, he sometimes wonders whether he actually adopted very big cats as pets or ten feet tall powerful dragons. But he knows the underlying pain and wrath all too well. “Sky-City... was practically gone. It was completely destroyed,” he eventually starts to tell. “It was... because of me. The anger of our Duel Spirits and mine took over me, we somehow became one... and went on a rampage.” A lump in his throat starts to form. He tries to suppress it with forced steady breaths. “Heaven came back from the Andean Hills, you’ve brought her to your and your father’s hide-out... you talked... before – you two faced me... ” Ray’s grip on his jacket tighten. He knows she wants to say something but manages to contain herself. Zarc draws another difficult breath. “ ...Promise me not to get mad?,” he asks before he could make up the courage to continue. “ ...Because you – killed Heaven?,” Ray fears in a quiet tone. Startled, Zarc looks back to her, fear in his golden and clouded eyes. “You – why – how do you know!?” “You wouldn’t act like that if you would’ve killed me in your dream... ,” Ray explains cautiously. She trembles when she tries to draw a difficult breath herself. “Ray – she – I’m so sorry- ” “No, it’s okay- ” “What!? How could this be ever okay- ” “No, listen, Zarc!” Ray changes her position to his front before she hugs him again. “Death in dreams doesn’t mean death in real life!” “But- ” Ray shakes firmly her head. She cups his face again with her hands. “I may not be an expert in dream interpretations but I do know some things.,” she explains. “If you murder someone, it means being more cautious before you jump into any hasty actions.” The inner tips of her eyebrows raise when she smiles a little bit. “Because, let’s be honest... you do have a tendency for reckless behaviour... ” “Like I’m the only one who goes lengths for his friends.” “This is not what I’m trying to say. I just have a feeling that your tendency is the biggest of us all.” Zarc sighs and rolls his eyes. He turns his back to the scene in the garden. Ray moves with him. “It’s not only Heaven who would go this far... You’d give your life for her as well... ” Ray smiles. It looks sad. “You know me well... But don’t forget, Zarc. Never forget that I love you, too. And I would do just as much for you.” “ ...Same.,” Zarc admits with a small nod. Ray raises herself on tiptoes before she kisses him again. This time, the kiss deepens because Zarc mirrors her movements. He wraps his arms around her, thus tightening the hug. “I am so, so glad we’ve found each other.,” Ray admits in a hushed voice after breaking the kiss, completely out of breath. “Oh, boy, I am, too!” Zarc leans his forehead against hers. “Promise me... one thing?,” he whispers before Ray could add something to her previous declaration. “Anything.” No hesitation. Because this is Ray, this is how he got to know her. “ ...Stop me when I’m ever going berserk. Stop me... before I could ever harm Heaven. Or – you... ” Genuine and soft agreement lays in her amethyst coloured eyes. She doesn’t fight back. Ray is absolutely positive that he never would be able to really hurt their best friend, in any way. He would never hurt her. Not even by accident. But she has a feeling that this is important to him and he needs reassurance. Up until he is sure again himself that he could never hurt his two most important human friends. “Always.” Ray seals this promise with another kiss.

#zarcrayweek #Day 3: Sacrifice #Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V #Akaba Ray #Zarc #genesisshipping #Heaven is my OC #guest: Akaba Leo #it's funny how these prompts are getting longer and longer #I had so much trouble with this one #despite the feeling at the beginning that it would turn out to be the shortest #bA's writing

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renegaderoots · 6 years

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GENERAL INFORMATION

♚┋FULL NAME: Trish Lynch neé Hart ♚┋PRONUNCIATION: t r IH sh

♚┋NICKNAME(S): None.

♚┋TITLE: The Asserter ♚┋OCCUPATION: Money Launderer/Journalist ♚┋~AGE: 35 ♚┋DATE OF BIRTH: 8 August ♚┋GENDER: Cisgender ♚┋PRONOUNS: She/Her ♚┋ORIENTATION: Greyromantic Bisexual ♚┋NATIONALITY: American ♚┋RELIGION: Wicca ♚┋SPECIES: Human ♚┋AFFILIATION:Lynch ♚┋GENERATION: Third ♚┋THREAT LEVEL: Moderate (not malicious, sometimes violent, tends to be aggressive)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

♚┋FACE CLAIM: Amber Heard ♚┋EYE COLOUR: Brown ♚┋HAIR COLOUR: Blonde ♚┋DOMINANT HAND: Left ♚┋HEIGHT: 5 ft seven or 170 centimeters ♚┋WEIGHT: 62 kg or 137 pounds ♚┋TATTOOS: too many rose tattoos to count ♚┋SCARS: a scar on her left cheek. ♚┋PIERCINGS: belly button piercing ♚┋GLASSES: No.

PSYCHOLOGY INFORMATION

♚┋JUNG TYPE: ISTP ♚┋SUBTYPE: Sensing ♚┋ENNEATYPE: 7w8 ♚┋MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral ♚┋TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine/Choleric ♚┋SCHEMA: AS, ED, DI ♚┋INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Musical, Linguistic ♚┋~IQ: 128 ♚┋NEUROTYPE: Neuroatypical ♚┋AT RISK? Since there’s a predisposition in her family regarding schizophrenia on her maternal side (though unknowingly), she was diagnosed with undifferentiated schizophrenia aged 25.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

♚┋HOMETOWN: Boston, MA, America ♚┋CURRENT: Dublin, Ireland ♚┋LANGUAGE(S): English, some Irish (she’s being taught by her husband), Swedish ♚┋SOCIAL CLASS: Before her marriage, Trish was part of the working class but now belongs to the Upper Middle class. ♚┋DEGREE: Bachelor ♚┋SUBJECT(S): Journalism ♚┋PARENT #1: Unknown ♚┋PARENT #2 David Hart, deceased, estranged ♚┋SIBLING(S): None ♚┋MAIN SHIP: Trish/Rory ♚┋RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married to Rory Lynch ♚┋CHILDREN: none yet ♚┋PET(S): a bird named Archie ♚┋ADOPTED? No. ♚┋RAP SHEET? Yes, mostly during her delinquent youth, though her crimes (like shoplifting) were mostly disregarded and downplayed with community service. ♚┋PRISON TIME? No.

VICES / HABITS

♚┋SMOKES? Yes. ♚┋DRINKS? Yes. ♚┋DOES DRUGS? Occasionally smokes weed ♚┋IS VIOLENT? Extreme aversion towards violence given her own psychological scarring as a result of it, but she can and will defend herself if necessary – so her way of doing so is strictly physical, though Trish does have a history of emotional manipulation as well. ♚┋HAS AN ADDICTION? No, but used to: narcotics ♚┋IS SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? Yes. ♚┋HABITS: Trish, in a word, is weird. She is late to meetings so often because she showered and then proceeded to sit on her bed in a towel staring at the wall for an hour without doing anything. Her chronic lateness, at this point, is moreso a vice than a habit. That aside, she will not leave the house without chewing gum or thirteen pens in her pocket/purse. ♚┋HOBBIES: playing with Archie, writing, organizing events, muscle cars ♚┋TICS: List all tics your character has ♚┋OBSESSION(S): Again, not necessarily an obsession, but Trish is fascinated by firearms and knows a frightening amount of it for somebody who’s not legally allowed to carry one. ♚┋COMPULSION(S): List all compulsions your character has

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

♚┋HOUSE: Gryffindor ♚┋VICE: Greed ♚┋VIRTUE: Humility ♚┋ELEMENT: Water ♚┋ANGEL: Uriel ♚┋MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Godling (The Witcher) ♚┋ANIMAL: Sparrow ♚┋MUTATION: Air manipulation ♚┋WOULD SURVIVE POST-APOC? No.

STATUS INFORMATION

♚┋DEVELOPMENT: Underdeveloped. ♚┋SHIPPING: Multiship. ♚┋VERSE: Verselocked. ♚┋VERSE TYPE: crime ♚┋CANON: crime ♚┋PLOTTING: open ♚┋CREATION DATE: April 2018

CHARACTER SUMMARY

Born into what most would call a dysfunctional clusterfuck, Trish has always been restless, following her wanderlust to find a home away from home; a place to belong. Her father, unfortunately, threw his ambitions out the window and took to gambling until his debts far surmounted his will to live. His legacy, in short, were bills to pay and strange men turning up at her door. It was Rory who helped turn her enemies into assets – and those who did not bite are in no position to bark up the wrong tree today. After tumultuous relations, Trish has always carried emptiness inside her, and a kind of poisonous envy at the sight of fortunate souls. Above all, she wants to be loved; she needs to love. Proving to her worth to the Morrisons and the Lynchs means the most to her as they are her benefactors. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to fight for her shot at a family – not even bending the law.

APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION

Unsurprisingly, neither her height nor her weight are of much consequence. In fact, she is often undermined as the typical damsel in distress deal, and gladly takes advantage of how she is generally perceived. Moreover, her choice of dress, while neither bright nor complicated, is undoubtedly lavishly expensive. Rory doesn’t mind her interest in materialistic things and actually endorses it, flaunting his wealth just like his wife. That, however, is not the only present Rory has given her. At their first anniversary, he gave her a rose garden since Trish loves roses, most evident by her collection of rose tattoos. Like all women involved with the Morrison family, however, Trish was told to improve her self-taught fighting skills (most of which she picked up on the streets) and now attends Krav Maga lessons regularly. However, it can be challenging at times to stay focused since she does have a scatter-brained tendency to her and a sometimes bone-idle work ethic.

PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION

Generally, you will be met with a shy smile and in quite a cordial manner. While her temperament is not exactly that of a party animal, Trish treats others kindly and appears soft-spoken at first until her views are challenged – then, her obstinate streak comes into play, making her somewhat unyielding and hard to get along with unless you see eye to eye. No matter what, she will defend her idealistic roots and readily pairs them with sober realism; but not without her relentless drive for self-improvement. More than anything, Trish is an autodidact and highly curious.

There’s scarcely anything dull to her so long as she encounters somebody with an infectious alacrity for their respective milieu. In contrast to this, though, are her contemplative moods where she will flat out refuse to talk or even so much as acknowledge anyone, especially in times of great stress. The crux of Trish is this: her own insecurity and lack of strong self is irrevocably reflected in her ever changing mannerisms. The need to be loved or at least liked, to matter to something or to somebody is such an overruling instinct to her that most of her personality is often in constant flux to accommodate whatever her partners need.

To combat this, her principles are often in opposition with the innerworkings of her very family and, more frequently than she’d like, surrenders completely, seemingly content to play the beautiful flower with no opinions of her own. All in all, her emotions are her own business, and she’s not one to wear her heart on her sleeve, struggling between bouts of self-doubt and unwavering confidence.

SKILLS / COMPETENCES

As far as her bilingual nature is concerned, Trish can communicate proficiently in both English – what with it being her mother tongue – and Swedish. Irish, as she finds, is a daily battle she intends to win. Where she shines most without a doubt, however, are her work-related studies. Obviously, her writing can more than hold its own but in addition to that, she is also knowledge in journalistic ethics, editing, photojournalism, television production technique, web design and, most importantly, how to fool everybody while lying through her teeth. Having her in charge of the finances would probably lead to bankruptcy, however, since Trish is not the least bit parsimonious – rather, she can be very generous.

INTERPERSONAL MANNER

In comparison to most others, Trish is probably one of the kindest, most likeable personalities within their inner circle. She’ll give you a smile easily; and a genuine one at that. Below her ingénue mask, however, there can be shrewdness coupled with an opportunistic business sense, given that she’s in charge of spinning amicable tales about the Morrison’s involvement with charity work. Thanks to her pen, the public laps up her words, revering especially Eoghan as a kind of celebrity. What’s more, Trish can be possessive in the way she loves, thinking of her lovers as possessions rather than people, the latter of which is a byproduct of the belief that she can’t have any lasting relationships, hence, depersonalizing them is the only manner in which she can be emotionally close to others.

MISC.

Characteristic traits

Positive:

Individualistic, logical, optimistic, determined, patient

Negative:

Indecisive, dependent, shrewd, anarchistic, opinionated

Schemas

EMOTIONAL DEPRIVATION (ED)

Expectation that one's desire for a normal degree of emotional support will not be adequately met by others. The three major forms of deprivation are:

A. Deprivation of Nurturance: Absence of attention, affection, warmth, or companionship.

B. Deprivation of Empathy: Absence of understanding, listening, self-disclosure, or mutual sharing of feelings from others.

C. Deprivation of Protection: Absence of strength, direction, or guidance from others.

DEPENDENCE / INCOMPETENCE (DI)

Belief that one is unable to handle one's everyday responsibilities in a competent manner, without considerable help from others (e.g., take care of oneself, solve daily problems, exercise good judgment, tackle new tasks, make good decisions). Often presents as helplessness.

APPROVAL-SEEKING / RECOGNITION-SEEKING (AS)

Excessive emphasis on gaining approval, recognition, or attention from other people, or fitting in, at the expense of developing a secure and true sense of self. One's sense of esteem is dependent primarily on the reactions of others rather than on one's own natural inclinations. Sometimes includes an overemphasis on status, appearance, social acceptance, money, or achievement -- as means of gaining approval, admiration, or attention (not primarily for power or control). Frequently results in major life decisions that are inauthentic or unsatisfying; or in hypersensitivity to rejection.

INSPIRED BY: Triss Merigold (The Witcher)

#profile;Trish

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