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Celia Ichor

A poison brewer that considers her potions as magical ales. Her constant consumption of poison been a detriment to her already questionable sanity.

0 · 476 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Alastairim

Description

Image


Appearance

Celia is dangerously thin thanks to growing up in constant stress. Her body is slim and lanky and at certain points blue veins can be seen poking through the pale skin as well as several stretch marks around her armpits and thighs. Her hair is black while her eyes are a pale blue. Her angular and sunken face is often found smiling cheekily with thin lips. Most times, people assume her either dead or dying if she stays standing for too long.

Personality

Celia is an upbeat person, even in the darkest hour. Her tendencies that push others away are the traits she likes best about herself; they are her core providers of hope in the gloomy continuous world that exists. Bubbly and open to new experiences, Celia has little time for fear and doubt. The world is her oyster and she will take it all in without a single regret.


History

Celia was born to a sick mother that suffered from her illness for years. The lack of supervision led to several unfortunate consequences. The first of which was her new found joy of talking to herself. Around the age of five, Celia thought she lacked the proper skills of a wordsmith and needed practice. Her mother, too weak to instruct, allowed the odd and length conversations Celia had with herself to continue, often falling asleep during the tangents. The young girl thought this to be a common thing among people and felt rather inclined to continue to voice every thought or opinion she had, even if they were conflicting. As she grew older, this trait made her distant from others in the world whom thought she was crazy. Her reply to such a comments? "Crazy good at talking," She would say.

The second consequence was when she found a particular recipe book around the age of nine. She could read, thanks to a neighbour that often came to help with her mother when she was growing in age. The stranger felt the self-conversations Celia had were a product of sickness given by the mother and thus, never felt to correct them. Instead they taught her to write down all the things she thought about, hoping it would help with the apparent mental frustrations she was displaying. It, instead, allowed for her to read an old and damaged book called "Peter's Potions of Po". Young Celia assumed it was a beverage recipe book like her neighbour used and fell madly in love with it. The full title, still unknown to Celia, is "Peter's Potions of Poison". A fact she should have known before she began mixing and regrettably drinking the potions. Thankfully, Peter's recipes required magic to make potent which meant tiny Celia could only muster up weak brews that tickled at her throat and flipped her stomach. While not a splendid feeling, tinkering of these potions allowed Celia to make all sorts of blends that gave her abilities such as spit fire, acid breath and even flight. While their effects have all been temporary, Celia has gained one true ability over the years: full resistance to poison. Her magic, with age and use, has increased to become something notable if only in her brewing skills. By fate's will alone, she has never given any of her 'ales' away.

At the age of twenty-five, her mother finally passed on and Celia, having no other purpose at her home, had passed on as well to new dreams. She will find her purpose in this world and if not, she will at least make a friend.

So begins...

Celia Ichor's Story

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor
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Celia stumbled into the bar. Her fragile feet shook nervously while tiptoeing forward. "Shh, little feet. We mustn't show our fear. They smell fear." The woman murmured under her breath. The identity of 'they' remained a mystery to everyone, including Celia, but the statement fuelled the irrational fear that caused her tremors. The shaking had moved to her hands as she scurried to the bar. With each step, her wide eyes studied a new direction of the room. This strange place was the first spot she had dared venture to from her home and it, indeed, was strange to her. She had aimed for a place based on her interests; however, she must have read the brochure wrong. This was not a building based upon the finest ales, this was a nest of vile strangers that paraded around like wild beasts. She missed her small home but found solace as she neared the bar and took a seat, cautiously welcoming the hard stool beneath her. "A drink, I must have a drink." She mused aloud while staring mindlessly over the bar and at the wall of liquor.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Click click click clack.
Was the noise of bones jostling as an elegantly dressed body entered dressed in a black suit with white undershirt and black trousers that dangled over posh shoes. It seemed to be an elderly gentleman leaning on a cane, but where he should've had skin and flesh he only had bones. The hunched figure had tilted his skull downwards so that his jaw seemed to be pulled upwards in a grin under the brim of his top hat. His approach was slow, likely to reflect the age he was supposed to sport, but what matter was age to a skeleton?

Finally he settled down with an airy sigh in a seat next to Celia, not paying the woman one bit of mind, at least not for the moment, though it was easy to tell that he didn't come to a bar for no reason.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Celia was growing more nervous as she waited. It seemed that in a place such as this, her presence was nothing but a blip of inconveniences for those that brushed past her. Her thirst, no matter how great, was meaningless. "They don't care." She spewed from quivering lips, "They don't notice. Who doesn't notice? They. They silly." She confused herself for a moment before latching back onto fear. The woman held tightly onto the bar edge as a new character entered the scene. She watched as he sat beside her, assuming he had seen her miserable state and came to console her.

"You came." Celia stated flatly while blinking at him with wide eyes. "Do you know how to get a drink? I don't. I tried, they didn't listen. But to you they, they might indeed listen." She paused, studying the stranger for a moment. Her sunken eyes taking careful time to pace his features. "But, you're bone. Do people listen to bones? Do bones talk? Will you talk, bones?" The brewer began to ramble; however, the rambling distracted her crazed mind which, in turn, slowed the shaking. It, slowly, was creating an anchor for her wild thoughts to grasp onto.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Old Bones turned his head around with a creak to look towards the lady that had addressed him, regarding her for a moment, then tapped his chin with a slender finger. "I don't know if they listen to me," he answered in an upbeat, albeit rusty voice, "Sometimes I just speak and they seem to bring me what I am hoping to get. Other times I don't seem to get what I hope for at all. But the least I can do is ask."

He nodded at her and said, "What drink would you like? I don't know what drinks young ladies like to drink anymore. Back in my day it was champagne or cheap beer, but now they have all sorts of drinks with fruit and colours in them." This was accompanied by a hearty laugh. Oh how fun it was to reminisce.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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With a new found vigour, Celia began to boisterously plead, "Oh, yes, please speak for me. I - oh." She paused as a new thought rushed through her mind: she hadn't known what to get. She knew her ales, all their horrible names such as gut piercer and firey, burny, burny death, but she hadn't wanted one of her ales. No, she wanted something adventurous, something new. Biting her bottom lip, she turned back to the stranger. "Is there an ale you would consider to be marvellous? I like ales, I want ales but I, well, I don't exactly know these ales." The new thought had completely consumed her frazzled mind, voiding all previous thoughts of fear that she once had. Someone had noticed her; someone had considered her more than just a nuisance to press against when passing by and yet, she hadn't even known this stranger's name. "Celia Ichor." The woman stated before noticing how that could be misconstrued from their previous topic, "Oh no, not the drink - is that a drink? I hope it's a good drink at least. But no, I am Celia Ichor." She tapped her flat chest proudly. "Do people make introductions here? People must." She mused.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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The skeleton's head tilted downwards to show off that broad grin he sported. "The names Ol' Bones. I'd shake your hand but the last time it did it fell off. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Ichor." He waved said hand in the air to attract the attention of bar staff, then ordered two ales, and when prompted to say which ales he said 'the good ones', to which the bartender realized this conversation wasn't getting them anywhere and set off to get a pair of reasonably priced ales.

"What brings you to Gambit's? You mustn't know about this place if you wanted to come here, only sad old fools and sadder young fools come here," he chuckled merrily, as he meant two different kinds of sad, a joke he would not share, "I suppose you're after some shelter from all that violence out there, hm? The 'war', another invasion. More soldiers and shooting and violence."

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Celia watched with wonder as the man seemingly summoned others to do his bidding with ease. "Oh, so it's the wave then the demand. I've learned so much from you already, Mr. Ol' Bones." The woman stated with a cheeky smile. Her own fragile hands clapped faintly as she spoke while the waiter left.

"Gambit's? Oh, this place, yes. Well, I dabble you see. I dabble in ales but in truth, I hadn't tried any new ales - different ales, ales that I didn't brew. I saw somewhere that they sold the best ales and so I came for the best ales." She stated while her eyes lingered on the room around them. She hadn't known why she had been so fearful before, perhaps the unknown was scarier than she realized. But now she knew someone - or something at least - that could speak to her and show her that perhaps this new world wasn't so unknown after all. "If I'm being super honest, I hadn't even known about a war. I came here from my mother's place, well no longer her place since she's in the ground. The ground is now her place. But I came here to find something new to be. You know, other than a daughter. Is that, well, strange?" Her blue eyes had shifted back onto Ol'Bones with hope radiating from their glassy stare.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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"Trust me, that's not half strange," he assured her with another jolly chuckle and a rattle of his many bones, "Maybe you came from a different Gambit's. I hear there's lots of them and they all come to the one place. I don't quite get it, ah but-" He was cut off by the arrival of the two ales that had been poured into pint glasses and set down before them. His hand scooted out, grasping the cup with a clink and raised it to tip it down into his jaw, with a patter of liquid hitting clothing a moment later.

The mug was placed back down, now half empty, and Old Bones continued his elderly ramblings. "Anyway, staying in the ground just wasn't for me. I can see why some people like it. Comfortable, quiet, but these Ol' Bones were just too restless." He chuckled cheerily and nodded his head. "Best ale, ey? Tasted like nothing!"

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Celia was pleased to hear she wasn't so strange - it was a rare occasion for her - but heeded his next words. To her, he was an oracle in this dismal location. When the drinks came, she quietly clapped again to herself as if applauding the whole event as a show for her amusement. Before taking her own, she watched the skeletal man spill the liquid down his throat. It was an odd scene but it didn't stop her excitement. She followed his example with the exception that she slurped the drink and swished it about her mouth a moment to let her tongue wash in its flavours. Then, with a mildly disappointing shrug, swallowed.

"The ale, well, it's, well, it's bland I guess." She noted aloud, staring thoughtfully to the glass she held cautiously in her hands. "I'm used to more, something. More bubbles? More bite? Maybe more, more bitter, sour, tart. But then again, I could be wrong and this could be right. How do you judge yourself against this world, Mr. Ol'Bones? You seem to know a lot. You did come from the ground, you must be, well, grounded." Celia noted with a raised brow. Her hands still fidgeting at the bottom edge of the cup while she watched her company eagerly.

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Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Old Bones had never been called worldly, but it was definitely a compliment he liked! "Please, just call me Ol' Bones, Mister Ol' Bones was my fathers name," he joked as his fingers rested on the counter top once more, "But ah... What secrets do you think the ground told me that would make me any smarter than someone from out of it? I think someone from the air would know best, they get to see everything. I only see things like any other person does."

He tilted his head one way then the other, each time eliciting a small creak, then finally he said, "Oh go on then. I take it you have a question? That's why you were asking, right? I can only tell you as much as I know and then you can judge me against the world from that."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Feathers flap against the wind making noise outside that kicks up dust. Softer now the noise continues with a stream of notes from some language tonal in the extreme. Flynn, a black feathered saurid with a blue head crest, stands by the front door waiting for wings folding back into a spiral wrap on her arms.

A small segmented worm, perhaps a foot long and an inch in diameter, glides in slow without noise. Hard quadrant beaks on each end perk their eye bumps at the presence of two others. Quite social creatures it circles once an empty chair near Ol' Bones and Celia looking once at them. Its next interest proves to be a sugar container at the center of the table which it stops at in midair to inspect.

The creature pulls apart at the vanes disbanding to inky cloud to insert itself inside. Once there the contents turn white to black as bits of hairworm consume raw sugar at quite good speed.

A tiny worm just sized for the flap emerges on occasion to point out the front door. The bit of Thane looks for Flynn there then crawls back into the feast.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Given the invitation to ask more questions Celia was simply elated. With a curious grin, the woman wiggled on the stool to face him. Her mouth was barely able to wait as it started to stumble onto words, "Are there more of you? I thought skeletons were only dead and dead meant still, stuck in place with no capacity to move. What made you move? Are you moving or am I imagining this? This can't be a dream. I can't dream of such a strange place or person. What do you taste like? Sorry, that was strange. I'll admit that was strange. You can't taste people, that's simply poor taste - oh, ha, yes, taste." She smiled, her eyes open and ready for his reaction.

Without daring to move her gaze, she reached out for the beer again but her hand failed. Instead, the thin digits bounced off the glass, propelling it forward to crash on the other side of the bar. Her attention darted to see the source of the stark sound created by the shattering glass before returning to look back at Old Bones. "That was bad, wasn't it? Should I, well maybe we, run?" She was a mix of surprised and scared, depending on her new oracle to instruct her.

{edited}

It was then that a new creature entered the scene. It was unlike anything she had ever known and she looked at it with wonder. The thought of broken glass was now lost as her lips whispered to Old Bones, "What is that?" She hadn't waited for an answer to stare mindlessly at it and, with a nervous hand, moved out to poke it.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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The material in the sugar container seen through the sides grew increasingly shiny as Thane transmuted more food than it could integrate at the moment. However when the smaller scout came out again it found a finger in its personal space. The vanes splayed in a pitched clack at the finger but Thane knew enough not to bite titles. Instead a silt mist exuded from its head as small points of blue light make a question mark in threads midair.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Suddenly the doors to the bar Bursts open once again, A man stumbles in clearly roughed up, Honestly it appears that he has been hit by a couple of cannons as he stumbles over the bar with a blank expression completely ignoring the others present. He quickly slumps over into the seat close to Old Bones, Clearly satisfied with the the rest. He mumbles something unhearable as he attempts to poorly get the bartenders attention

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor
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Celia was captivated by the display before her. Such a strange thing it was that reacted to her tentative hand. With a glistening smile, the woman cooed happily, "Oh my, it can write? Was a wonderful monster. Can it hear or does it simply read? Do things need ear to hear?" She meant it all in good terms; however, her social etiquette was not always quite so refined. Her hand moved slowly to try and tap the question mark above its head, curious to see if she could manipulate it herself but then a new stranger was welcomed into the bar. Her own mind assumed he too came to see the strange thing that performed before her. So, darting her hand back to her side, Celia whipped around to face him. "Oh I see you've come too. Curious things, aren't they? Well, 'it' I suppose. I wonder if it's only one thing or many things simply together in a bunch or bundle. Do you know?" Her big eyes blinked twice at the strange man, begging for answers. "You do know what I'm talking about, right? Or can you not see it? I've never been known to see things others can't see. Not a power I have, it would seem." Her tangents were growing more in-depth as she found herself more comfortable in the current environment. So many questions and so little time.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor
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The man quickly gave up on his futile attempt for the barkeeps attention, Instead focusing on the woman and strange floating questionmark looking between them, "Wha-.. Hmh? Do you mean me?" The man listened closely to her ramblings before continuing "Okay, okay slow down... What do you want?" He stretches both his arms out in a questioning way giving her a stern look "I have had a rough day, Okay?"

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Celia had prepared a whole new slew of questions when asked what she wanted. Her lips were quivering with excitement, about to explode into a full series of open ended rambling; however, his last statement stilled every thought in her. There was only one simple question in her mind. "Okay but how rough?" Her face had twisted into a crooked smile. "And I mean, in what way was your day rough and not, well, flirting? I think that would be considered flirting, maybe, possibly." She added while shuffling an inch closer to the new man. "Oh and yes. I am Celia Ichor. In case you were curious. Most people don't ask but I thought you might. Hoped you might, really." The scrawny woman confessed rather sheepishly. She had met so many strangers already today that she almost considered herself a socialite at this point - if she had any concept of what a socialite was.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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The man continued giving her a blank stare almost looking as sheepishly back to her, He sighes for a short moment "My name is Makthus" He places his hand on his chest "Nice meeting you Celia And yes, My day has been rough" He looks back outside "They really need to Up the guards around here" He leans back against the counter looking at Celia again "I got jumped by some guys outside, Nasty types"

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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Celia watched him talk with amazement. She thought him to be one of those heroic types she heard about in adventure novels. He appeared so confident and charismatic compared to the young maiden that sat wiggling in her chair. "Villains then. Well, Makus, shouldn't we bring them to justice? I've alway wanted to bring them to justice, nasty types that is." Celia stated smiling back at him. She had, non purposely, pronounced his name wrong. Sometimes her listening skills were not her greatest feat and thus, would continue to use a fictional name she crafted. Hopping from her seat, tapped the empty chair to get his attention while gleefully whistling, "Oh, yes, we should go right now. I've sold myself to the idea and I can't not follow through. I, being me, would be heartbroken." Her teeth beamed through her thin, withered lips.

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Character Portrait: Flynn the Volitale Character Portrait: Makthus Character Portrait: Celia Ichor Character Portrait: Old Bones
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"W-Wait! Once again, Slow down!" He seems to grow increasingly more tired of the conversation" It was just a couple of thugs, And they just ran like the devil himself was after them, I doubt they are worth the trouble" He gives her a quick look before attempting to call over the barkeeper again, Still unsuccsefull, He sighes before looking back to her. "You do not seem very... "Homestead" Here... I do think you are from somewhere else?" His gaze contains a small amount of interest as he attempts to lead the conversation on a different lead