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Viridiana Wordsworth

A ladywizard with an unusual mind.

0 · 213 views · located in The Arcane Archives

a character in “Where The Sidewalk Ends”, originally authored by Kurokiku, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Basics
ImageName: "Viridiana Wordsworth, why?" “Ana” to people who find that a mouthful, though she doesn’t endorse it.
Aliases: "No other names. No need."It’s a funny thing, this concept of taking another name. She’s never shown any independent inclination to do so, but there are those who refer to her in casual conversation as the Wordsmith. This, she has incorrectly taken to be a mispronunciation of her actual last name. The definite article is a mystery.
Sex: "No, thank you, unless..." She shakes her head abruptly and returns to what she was doing. Female
Age/Date of Birth (if known): February 14, 1935, a singularly unfortunate date, and one that puts her at approximately 23 years of age now.
Species: "Homo sapiens arcanus, next?" More colloquially, a wizard.
Voice: "Warum brauchen Sie das wissen?" Vague, misty (if indeed a voice can sound misty), and prone to speaking in quick bursts. Also has an upper-class British accent, for the simple reason of her upbringing.

Appearance
Physical Description: "160.02 centimeters. 110 pounds. All major organs and body parts intact. Quoi d'autre avez-vous besoin?" Viridiana’s a skinny thing, the kind of skinny that simply forgets to eat on occasion rather than the meticulously-maintained kind. She doesn’t fill out the preferred evening wear of her time, so it’s perhaps fortunate that she had no cause to own such items. She’s a little on the bony side, with knobby knees and elbows that might cause pain if they were inadvertently brought into contact with your stomach. Her face, heart-shaped and dominated by a large pair of bluish-green eyes, is rather obscured by an even larger pair of glasses, which she’s constantly pushing up her nose with something approaching frustration.

Her hair, dirty blonde in color, is always clean if never properly styled, and indeed often hosts an unconventional assortment of feathers (which may or may not be quills, of all things), oriental hair ornaments, pencils, and really anything else that she needs to have about herself. Somehow, all of these objects keep the relatively-long mass above the nape of her neck, though sometimes the hold appears considerably precarious.

Her complexion is clear, if a little too pale for a strictly healthy appearance. Her veins and so forth are easily-visible purple and green lines at her wrists and ankles, less so elsewhere, though this is often obscured by either her sleeves or the myriad marks she places upon herself.

Her hands are long-fingered and elegant, though the nails are kept short, and it’s uncommon that they aren’t stained with ink or smudged with graphite, perhaps resin.

Distinguishing Marks: "Ah, of course. Markings. Spells, left to set. Deepbluesafety. Enchantments, woven into skin. Temporary, will vanish with use, leave room for new spells. My... art." She smiles, as if only to herself. Most often, Viridiana’s forearms are covered in words, most of them in non-English languages. A few of them are even hieroglyphs or runes, and so resemble pictures more than actual words. What little is decipherable to the average person doesn’t seem to cohere in any recognizable way, but one can be assured that the script is not a simple grocery list or agenda. The letters are all tiny, and written neatly and symmetrically, giving the impression of thin stripes from a distance. On the rare occasion that she runs out of space on her arms, she’ll continue on any skin she can both see and reach successfully. The only reason she shows a slight preference for dresses is because they allow her to reach her legs more easily should this need arise.

Mannerisms: She’s, well, an “odd duck” might be a nice way of putting it. Since her family has money, she gets to be called “eccentric” rather than “crazy,” but nevertheless the idea is the same. She has a number of repetitive habits, such as the compulsive need to crack the joints of every finger before she begins writing anything, a tendency to turn all doorknobs three times, and several other small, but usually noticeable tics. Very inclined towards her habits and rituals, she tends to become flustered when she can’t properly execute them for some reason.

Wardrobe: Her eccentricity does not end with her hair, much to her mother’s eternal displeasure. Her manner of dress is brightly-colored, often mismatched, and not nearly proper enough for anything resembling society company. She may, for example, be found wearing a woman’s dress with a re-stitched suit jacket, once intended for a teenaged boy, and an obnoxiously-bright scarf. Occasionally, she can be spotted in trousers, which, while not exactly unheard of, is not particularly appreciated by the kind of people her family knows.

Other: Though Viridiana’s face is most often set into a contemplative frown, she shows emotion in both minute and unsubtle ways. She does not quite understand the proper way to utilize body language, so her face is about the only indication of her mood. She tends to furrow her eyebrows when deep in thought, tap rhythms against her leg with her hand when impatient, and though it is not often seen, satisfaction brings about a peculiar smile. It is perhaps most easily likened to the one seen upon the Mona Lisa’s face, for it has the same mysterious, not-quite-clear quality to it. She seems otherwise disposed to solemnity.

Personality
Moral Alignment: "Morality... beyond my expertise." It’s hard to say; as she is rarely ever placed in circumstances where she has to make moral choices. It would likely be situational, though it’s safe to say that she has no particular desire to harm anything.

Intelligence: "A man called me 'idiot-savant.' I am not an idiot.' This is incredibly situation-specific. Viridiana is best classed as a savant, with special talent in the areas of language and music. Given that her particular brand of magic is based on language, this also makes her something of a “magical savant” though of course such a classification does not actually exist. Other than that, her functional knowledge of many things is lacking. She reads quite a lot, which helps cover some basic areas, but she is especially lacking in mundane knowledge and social skills.

Demeanor: Like many people with her condition, Viridiana has communication problems, ironic since she speaks so many languages. Her detail-oriented focus means that more “intuitive” things like body language or nuances of speech elude her with regularity. Indeed, she is selectively mute, and will speak only to some people, and others not at all. Generally, this works on a simple like/dislike criterion, and it is possible that she will eventually speak to people she currently does not, depending on how her impressions change. The reverse is also true, as for example in the case of her mother, to whom she no longer even attempts to talk.

Assuming she does speak with you, it’s still a bit unusual. Her speech is naturally very rapid, and, though clear, soft in tone. She often leaves off transitionary material in sentences, though even with this consideration, she can still be highly verbose, often skittering off on tangents that do not seem immediately relevant or important to anyone but her. She is, however, conscious of this tendency, and to a degree ashamed of it, and so if prodded, she can force herself to speak more slowly and avoid such digressions. It requires conscious effort, however, and her default mode of speech is still abrupt.

She seems a bit twitchy or nervous at first glance, but upon further inspection, it’s more like being constantly distracted with something, and it seems difficult for her to maintain focus on anything she does not consider vital or interesting in some way. Should it be one of these things, however, she is singularly devoted to it, and her focus can last for hours without interruption. Indeed, it may seem as though she has the ability to shut down her bodily needs to commit to a task. Not quite true, but close enough.

Attitudes: Viridiana’s own streams of thought are peculiar things, and if she communicated in exactly the way she thought, it would be unintelligible. Words in several languages form patterns with images and strains of music. She remembers things perfectly if she is seized enough by them to take particular notice. Her mental associations are odd; she may for example, refer to something as a yellow sound, and abstract concepts are often given unrelated concrete physical forms.

Likes: Routine, magic, language, music, tea.
Dislikes: Society people, loud noises, interruptions, her mother.
Quirks: See the above. Additionally, she often switches languages in the middle of sentences or paragraphs. This is not because she's snooty and wants you to know how many she speaks. In fact, most of the time, she doesn't realize she's done it. The person she talks to most often is herself, and she understands everything she says, so it hasn't quite registered that others might not.
Flaws: Socially inept, deeply insecure, and well
 some of the above probably counts as well.
Philosophy: “Nietzsche noticed many things that should be seen. Makes me greybitternocturne. Not sure what this means.” She’s
 conflicted.
Hangups: Drastic interruptions of her established rituals and routines. Direct (verbal) confrontation is something she can’t process very well, either.

Social
Occupation: Librarian, The Arcane Archives (Philadelphia Branch)

Relationships: N/A at present, though I love me some character background.

Economic Status: Her family is quite wealthy, and her father is one of those people who can still call himself “Lord” in the British gentry sense. He sends her a monthly allowance on the condition that she maintains steady employment.

Opinions: She tries to keep herself well away from political entanglements, thank you very much. They don’t interest her, and they do interest her mother, which is reason enough to avoid them entirely.

Combat and Abilities
Combat Prowess: Well, theoretically, her advanced grasp of magic should make her a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately, all she has to go on in this respect is theory, for she has never felt the need to fight anything before. She is not in bad shape, per se, but she certainly hasn’t been training for cage matches with demons or anything of the sort, and physically, she’s laughable in her capacity to do any damage, though she has decent levels of flexibility and speed of the “running away” variety.

Equipment On Hand: Several kinds of writing utensil, most of them stuck somewhere in her hair. She doesn’t carry a purse, but then her magic needs as little as a hand-sign or a spoken cantrip.

Special Abilities: Magic: Viridiana’s casting is all based in language, but it need not necessarily be spoken. Written script can serve as a channel for magic, and so can hand signs. Using each has its pros and cons. Hand-signals (Signcasting) are quick to activate, but suffer from two weaknesses: they’re nonspecific, and their celerity means they lack sheer firepower. Only the most general words have corresponding hand signs, so for example the sign for ‘water’ will usually just draw water from the nearest location unless combined with other signs for more specific directions. Each combination has an unchanging result, and young wizards have to memorize these.

Spoken cantrips (Speechcasting) can be long or short, and the longer ones usually have more powerful effects, and more precise ones. They do, of course, require more words and hence more times. Additionally, pronunciation is important. A given cantrip can only be used once a day, so in order to cast the same spell twice, you must know two ways of saying the same thing, which is why it helps to be multilingual. They tend to work better if they rhyme, for some reason. The exceptions to the duration-strength correlation are Words of Power, but using one of these (if, indeed, you are lucky enough to know one and disciplined enough to handle the drain it puts on your powers) is incredibly dangerous, and sure to affect something else in the world just as profoundly, usually in a ‘backlash’ sort of way. Using a Word to summon a rainstorm to a drought-ridden area, for instance, might deprive some other region of the world of rain for a season. They are certainly not the kinds of things you use every day, and very few wizards beneath Master-level proficiency could do so without killing themselves.

Written spells tend to be both specific and powerful, but generally the magic in them needs time to “set” properly, so they can take from thirty seconds to weeks to activate once the magic is used. Usually called “Runecasting,” this kind of magic is most often used in permanent enchantments or wards rather than for everyday spells, but Viridiana keeps a few written on herself at any given time and ready to go, usually for emergencies only.

Special Training/Aptitude: Viridiana’s training basically encompassed those three methods of spellcasting (with an emphasis on elemental control and some healing), and the languages necessary to understand what she was doing. She is quite gifted, but even magic has its limits, and too much at once will make her physically ill, knock her out, and could even possibly kill her in extreme situations. Aside from this, she has a flair for music, but nearly any other skills are beyond her ken. Recently, she has been experimenting with methods involving weaving spells into pieces of music, but the project is still in its infancy at present.

General History
She was born to landed gentry in the United Kingdom, England to be specific. Her father serves as a member of the House of Lords, and of course this entails all the entrapments of wealthy society and so forth. Naturally, a daughter with no social graces whatsoever was not exactly the ideal child, and throughout her childhood, her parents weren’t exactly certain what her “problem” was, though she has since been diagnosed with a schizoid personality disorder. Another psychiatrist disagrees and believes she has an autism-spectrum condition, but she has never particularly cared what it’s called.

Her father, though never a particularly affectionate man, seemed to understand that she just wasn’t going to be like other children. The fact that she at least had inherited his aptitude for magic was something of a comfort, and he in some sense believed this to explain her peculiar mannerisms, but her mother was not a wizard, nor indeed at all understanding. Fortunately, Viridiana spent most of her life in boarding school. Granted, fortunate is a relative term, given that the sorts of things girls learn at boarding schools were at once beyond her and entirely too tedious to bother with, but it wasn’t all bad if it kept her away from home.

She delayed her entrance into society by applying to a ladies’ college, which accepted her and allowed her another several years to develop her interests. As it turns out, she was not of the correct gender to be a scholar in the conventional sense, but a woman can be a librarian without much fuss, and so that was what she chose to learn, on the rationale that it would keep her close to books and language and far from social gatherings and people.

After she graduated, she was returned home with the expectation that she’d finally find herself a suitor and settle down. The first party she attended was disastrous enough that her mother is still upset about it. A few days later, her father presented her with a plane ticket to America and a job offer from one of his wealthy associates across the Atlantic. Whether he was trying to save her or be rid of her is unclear to Viridiana, but either way, it was the greatest gift she’d ever been given.

For the last few years, she’s been working as the keeper of a large magical archive in Philadelphia, unknown to all but a very particular magical clientele.

Professional History
Most of what Viridiana knows is self-taught. She never apprenticed to a master in the traditional way, and though her father did teach her some things, they were not around each other often enough for it to account for much more than the basics. The rest came from books, and the occasional nudge in the right direction from a well-meaning magical acquaintance or stranger. Language mastery was part of her more conventional education, though the ancient languages she has learned were all undertaken with help from the Archives.

Of course, once she shows a particular interest in something, very little impedes her mastery of it but time, and so she can speak more dialects than anyone really has business speaking or writing, and she has an intuitive grasp of magical theory that allows her to apply this knowledge as she wishes. Make no mistake, some of her more dodgy experiments have gone rather poorly, but she learns more from every one of them, successful or not.

She has become, therefore, something of an expert in linguistics, and given the fact that she currently has a demon bound to herself by contract, she’s learned a fair bit about them, too.

Other History
Eventually, demon-related things will probably go here, but TaeTae and I shall need to discuss them first.[/quote]

So begins...

Viridiana Wordsworth's Story

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Character Portrait: Viridiana Wordsworth
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The sunlight was only just beginning to filter through the windows of the Arcane Archives, but already the massive repository of knowledge was seeing just as much activity as it ever did on its busiest day. Granted, that was not much, but all the same, there was something to be said for waking up to a dozen vampires seeking asylum. The shafts of light which the librarian was usually content to allow to illuminate the dust motes that floated about the high-ceilinged building were cut off in short order by blinds and drapes both (for privacy, not protection), and the infrequently-used cot which was ostensibly her assurance that she could sleep if she really needed to was quickly claimed, the pillow and blanket on it pirated to different undead for comfort more than necessity.

Needless to say, the librarian herself was in a bit of a tizzy, as the continual clenching and unclenching of her hands would suggest to the observant. Usually, at this time in the morning, she’d be putting on a spot of tea in the breakroom, not because she’d just awoken but because she wished to stay alert, though of course her routines were rather broken and mangled at present. It was doing nothing for the state of her hair, which seemed if anything to have acquired only more oddments, and yet sill managed to droop dangerously-close to tumbling down off her head, like say perhaps a normal person’s would.

Any day that Viridiana Wordsworth spent within spitting distance of ‘normal’ was not a good day. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she sent her best glare at what appeared to be a young, sharp-featured man snooping through her papers. The offending party grinned, flashing very pointed incisors.

Well, maybe not quite so close to normal as she’d thought.

Huffing, the wizard clutched at the pocket-watch hanging like an ornament from her neck and peered at the hands. Six-thirty-two-fifty-four, and they’d been here three hours and forty-seven minutes too long already. Wringing her hands, she paced in the tiny space behind her desk, well aware that this situation might devolve into a full-blown panic attack at any second and trying her best to prevent that. Focusing on the regular chiming of her specially-designed metronome was helping, but not nearly enough, and she touched the golden needle of the device to still it for the moment. She needed tea, and now.

“Do not touch anything,” she said aloud, which earned her a few raised eyebrows and some indulgent smirks. Throwing up her arms, she turned on her heels and marched to the break room, trying not to visualize what might happen to her precious tomes and scrolls- her research- if they should disobey. Her purposeful stride was delayed, as the door to the break room was closed, meaning she had to turn the knob three times before she could open it, but once she was inside, Viridiana leaned against the wall and took several deep, calming breaths, forcing her eyes shut. “Yellow, yellow, it’s all gone yellow,” she muttered several times, twisting her hands in her nondescript blue dress. It had all started when her ambient magic detection device picked up frequencies she’d never seen before, and then shattered in her hands, the small glass orb beyond repair by any but the most skilled artificers. The reddish-dirge-slithering clouds had followed, and an air of palpable expectation that needed no device to discern it had followed shortly after.

She did not frequently bother reading the papers, but even she had been aware of the trouble with the vampires staying dead. There was some kind of pattern to it, one she’d resolutely ignored in the hope that it, much like her present unwanted squatters, would just disappear.

She never had been lucky.

“Yellow?” A curious voice echoed, and Viridiana emitted a startled yelp, jumping a good foot in the air. “Whoa, easy there, miss.” It was the same one from earlier, and he pulled his lips back from his teeth again. It was supposed to be a charming smile, but that fact didn’t quite register with her, and she blinked once, slowly, before turning away and putting the kettle on.

Today was
 Tuesday. That figured. Things she did not like happened with greatest frequency on Tuesdays, or at least they had since she’d started keeping track, which was about four years ago. This was certain to skew the average even further. The vampire behind her was talking again, but she ignored him flatly, preparing her tea in the same (slightly chipped) ceramic vessel she used every day. The smell was reassuring, routine, green-blue, and pleasantly fraternal.

“
I said, my name is Sebastian.” For some reason, she caught this bit of dialogue, and it at last prompted her to turn and glance over her shoulder at the speaker. His brow was mildly-furrowed, his mouth still half-slanted, but she didn’t have to guess. This was one look she knew well enough. It was the look that people gave her right after they decided she wasn’t “all there.” Frankly, that was ridiculous. Viridiana was as much “there” as anyone else was “there,” or anywhere, for that matter. There wasn’t less of her to “be” someplace, and she had attempted no magic to “be” in more than one place simultaneously, so she didn’t really understand why this happened to her so often.

“Nomen mea est Viridiana. Salve,” she replied at last, returning to her tea.

Both of Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up, and he chuckled before shaking his head and leaving the strange one to her choice of herbal beverage.