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When Way was born, her eyes were pitch black. Eventually they reverted to it’s human appearance as a default. The mark of her infernal connection. It’d flare up when she’d throw tantrums as a child or when exposed to shadow magic. Her features were always dramatic, large sunken eyes and high cheekbones with a strong jawline. She never smiled much, or was expressive at all - which was great for her skin but definitely didn’t make her approachable. Having grown up on a restrictive diet, she was always slightly underweight - though she would fill out in later years.
For most of her life she only wore clothes others had bought for her. She never minded much. There was nowhere to go, so who did she have to dress for? One day Zios said he couldn’t stand to look at her any longer in such pitiful attire and gave her a dress. It made her see her body in ways she hadn’t noticed before. She doesn’t understand fashion, or even like it - but she does like seeing herself in new clothes.
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She has no time for friendships, for hobbies. There wasn’t enough time. Never wholly revealing her intentions, there always seems to be an implication of life or death circumstances. She doesn’t need to explain herself, denying her is just making it difficult for yourself.
Despite her volatile nature, she can mask for short spurts of time. Able to mimic what others deem desirable behavior, few ever see her true nature until it’s too late. Her life is spent playing chess, moving the cosmic pieces across Pangaea. It’s unclear what the end game is, but the when was always clear.
Obsessive in nature, there is nothing she thinks of but the solstice. Everything must be in place for the solstice. Any minor inconvenience is met with absolute wrath. Way has absolutely no patience, though she can be convinced that somethings aren’t worth the risk.
Because her life was so empty for so long, the things she does have she is terribly attached to. One of her most sacred things are her morning rituals. Tea was one of the few luxuries she was always allowed, taking an hour every morning to sit and the sun and drink a pot of tea. If she’s unable to do this in the morning she becomes an absolute terror.
Possessive to a fault, her connections are often steeped in toxicity. She was never taught how to make connections, seeing people as instruments rather than another soul. The only stable relationship in her life is literally contracted. She tells herself she needs no one yet finds herself desperate when she’s alone.
Her social skills are stunted from years of isolation. The rare instances that she genuinely attempts to socialize, her intensity is off-putting. Though humor tends to evade her, she doesn't mind making a joke at another’s expense. If one can look past here brash demeanor and proclivity for violence, she’s at the very least interesting.
Quick in wit, she has something to say to anything. Much of her upbringing was spent isolated with only books to pass the time. She had access to some of the rarests texts in all of Pangaea and she read them all. If she says something, it is not an opinion. It is an empirical fact.
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m • a • g • i • c • a • e
practice. occultist
school. shadow magic, blood magic
Violet was quite literally born to be an occultist. She was a long-term investment for the cult, meant to be a sacrifice to their god. When their experimentation corrupted her abilities for several years her shadow magic was unstable. During those years she turned to research and blood magic. She learned much about rituals, specifically those of the sacrificial nature which often used both blood and shadow magic. Both influenced by emotion, her intensity and stoic nature gave her an advantage. Additionally she picked up some minor alchemy, though she only ever makes them in a pinch. Once she signed the contract with Sabazios her infernal connection was restabilized. His presence in the material realm made her all the stronger. Through his power she can manifest and manipulate shadows and fire at will. His influence seeps through her magic, enabling Violet to easily enthrall even the strongest magic users. Her spell book is vast and powerful though many take rare ingredients and cosmic timing which makes them not as useful as they could be.
h • i • s • t • o • r • i • a
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Her early years were strange, there weren’t many children in the cult. Even if there had been more none of them were allowed to play with her. She never knew why she was different, why she was the “Way”. The only moment of joy she ever had in her childhood was on the ranch. It had been in her family for generations, kept off the grid from the cult in case they ever needed a safe house.
When her grandfather retired from his position he moved to the ranch. He was the only one who ever called her Violet. She’d spend summers with him on the ranch. He taught her piano, arithmancy, astrology. She wasn’t allowed sweets, and he promised to never give her any - but always kept pixi sticks and pints of ice cream in the freezer he never ate.
After he died no one was around to speak up for her wellbeing anymore. Believing they could harvest the power from her as a beacon for Sabazios, the cult employed a powerful warlock to help unlock her powers. They did not question what his methods would be, signing over the wardship of Way to the warlock. He conducted awful experiments to try to extract her demonic powers. In the process he perverted her powers, corrupting them with his own.
Two infernal energies inside her now, Way began to feel herself deteriorate. She’d spent her entire life as a petri dish, when they told her they found the cure she didn’t question it. The warlock came to prepare her for the ritual, attempting to clear her mind. His spell backfired, her link to his patron allowing her insight. The cult intended to offer her to Sabazios, not as a sacrifice but as a gift - like she was something to give away.
It was to take place on her 25th birthday. She played along as if she didn’t know, watched as they sacrificed the horse and virgin for his summoning. Then before they could sign in blood she slit their throats offering them to Sabazios and stealing their contract. He asked what she had to offer, when she could not answer he told her she could think on it.
Every day, every action her tab gets a bit longer. The burden of it is getting heavier day by day.
Fired in the heat of the infernal realm itself, this arcane object was once a relic of the Women of the Thracian Horseman. Passed down and guarded for generations it was kept in a crystal case for the better part of a century when it found it's Way.
The Key can be used as an arcane focus but it's true power is it's own ability. Using any door, it can create a portal to anywhere within the material realm. It does not matter if the door had a lock, a knob or even hinges - it only must be upright in a door frame. Only divine wards can shield against it's reach.
In order to summon a portal, the user must have a clear vision of what door they are trying to come through on the other side. They do not need to have been to the place before, but they do need to have a clear visual otherwise the key is unable to conjur a portal.