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Dihna Mehm
The galaxy will bow to her, the trees will bend their limbs, and through the darkness she will rise; The shadow of the grim.
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The Infinite Void
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by pantalimon
Description
Her hair shines like oil slick in the light, and in the darkness is black as death. Eyes like that of the dead; white and pupilless. Her lips are as red as blood, her skin pale as porcelain. She wears a cloak sewn with pieces of sorrow, and thread of grey despair. Her face will be expressionless; And when you meet her you will know it is the Daughter of Fayte to whom you speak. She is the devil in angel's clothing. Dihna is also an assassin for hire; And she is perfect for the job. Her victims never see what's coming.
Personality
Dihna relishes in one thing and one only; Watching the suffering of human souls. If an ordinary human thinks of how things will work, she thinks of what will destroy those things. Her mind works forwards, ever forwards...she is the niece of the Time Keeper.
Equipment
Her black marble pocket watch, backed with opal, resides in the pocket of her long cloak. The chain, made of ivory, trails to her necklace; From which it hangs by a silver hook. Slung over her shoulders the Blade of Wrath waits to release its fury, and hers. A long, thin blade of magma that somehow manages to stay intact through the battles it's been in tips the red-hot handle, made of steel.
History
She was never normal, not even as a child. Her 'parents' were nothing like her, boisterous and annoying. She was quiet, silent, not to be trifled with. She spoke very little to them, or to anyone. She did not have any friends; and there were no exceptions to her rule: They are all inferior. I am better than them. And so, she found her way in to the Black Master's service. He has made her immortal, to a point that she cannot stay with any man she would fall in love with. She would watch him grow old and die, and she wouldn't mind one bit--because she wouldn't have the emotional capacity to care for him in any case.
So begins...
Dihna Mehm's Story
- Seen 31 Times • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2
Dihna Mehm had eyes that could bore in to the souls of a thousand demons, she not flinching all the while at the terrors she saw. Her eyes were the white of sea froth, incandescent as winter's fist snow. Her bare toes scrunched, the dark earth bunching under them. And forward she walked, pale hand pushing the door of the bar open. Such a long time it had been for her, since she had seen others. And talked to them, oh, even longer. The voices whispered in her ears, told her to sit at the bar. Told her to relax. She ordered herself a drink by pointing one, long nail at the item on the menu. Not a word escaped her bloodred lips, for she had forgotten how to speak. Her mind could show others what she needed them to see, and so...the use for words was long gone. Her eyes, cold and blinding, swept over the crowd of people. The corners of Dihna's mouth tilted up, her thoughts ringing. They don't know who you are, Mehm. They would be such easy prey. And they don't know who you are.
The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Master's Dojo (Hidden?)
Dihna Mehm blinked, pale lids closing upon even more white eyes. For the last seven years, her mouth had been silent; Her body still moving and mind even more active. Through her thoughts, she could communicate what others did with words. One foot in front of the other. Her pace did not slow. This gorgeous creature, so heavily broken already--She who belonged to the Dark Master. He watched her, and she knew, though she resented it every moment of every day. She was his pet. She came to a stop, head tilting upwards to see the marble pillars which reached higher than the clouds. Dojo. Her mind told her this matter-of-factly, leading her to step inside. Cloak billowing about her ankles, Dihna breathed in the air she mightn't smell again. She relished in the thought of another death, another surprised murderer. She made her way in to the darkened room that her mind had crafted in the middle of this god forsaken place. Her brain automatically sent out a message, the strange sound reverberating. Who's home?
Dihna Mehm melted her way forward, the metal seeming to absorb her as she came quickly towards the voice from the other side of the room. It is rather disconcerting, you know, when those you don't know see fit to hurl sharp objects at you. She drew her weapon smoothly, the magma glistening in the light. Her impossible blade held, against all odds, as she faced the speaker. What have you, man, against me?
Dihna Mehm twisted one finger in her locks of straight, dark hair. Her tongue licked across the two sharpest teeth in her mouth, as her breath turned the air black in the same pattern one's heated exhalations would turn it white on a cold day. Die, no. It has happened one too many times already. Her free hand gracefully swept the weapon from side to side as she stepped closer, the explosion of power from her opponent doing not much more than forcing her to shudder. Your name, Sir?
The setting changes from Master's Dojo (Hidden?) to Gambit's Bar
Dihna Mehm thumped her hand against the door, causing it to swing inwards semiviolently. Her bright white eyes skimmed over the crowd, not focusing on anyone in particular. Her silence was unnerving, as her bare feet moved quietly across the ground and her long black locks whipping out behind her in a solitary wind. Finally, her attention was attracted by what seemed like two young girls fighting. She, scrunching her eyebrows, stepped their way. With one hand, Dihna moved to grab the back of Crepa's throat, in order to seperate her from the other girl.
Dihna Mehm placed the palm of her hand upon Crepa's forehead. Her mind; as she herself was incapable of speech; sent out a message that reverbarated rather remarkably throughout the room. Who are you? A woman that looked to be about twenty five asked this question, this simple question; with the intelligence of a child.
Dihna Mehm watched the blood trickle from her neck down in to the sink. It had always been an interesting concept for her, that of wounds. This particular gash had been acquired when she crashed in to a wall of spikes in the Dojo during her last fight. She let her moist hand smooth cool water over the injury, straightening herself to stair in the mirror. Her hair hung lank in long, wet strands around her pale face, the dark in contrast with her pale skin making her seem like a ghost. She turned, and pushed the door of the bathroom open with a deep breath. The stench of the crowd hit her like physical blow, she even stumbled a bit as she walked towards the bar and sat on a stool. Her whited-out eyes searched the beings there, looking for nothing in particular other than good conversation and an interesting spout of knowledge from some other source than the Dark Master.
Dihna Mehm cracked her neck, feeling eyes on the back of her head. She refrained from looking at either of the beings she knew had paid her attention, instead watching as parts of her shadow moved independently from her body. A finger twitched, a knee bent, and finally the darkness ripped itself away from her. She blinked lazily, and as though the event had never taken place the shadow was back where it belonged. She clasped her hands, and looked over to her right. Dihna's eyes focused on the back of Yuko Harakuma's head, boring through his scalp in a failed attempt to see his thoughts. Though she could do this in closer range, from this distance she was well enough off to pronounce it impossible.
Dihna Mehm allowed her lips to curl upwards, as she moved forward like smoke. Silent, her molecules shifted and changed until she was part of the air. She morphed, pure bliss ringing through her body with every last little cell's transformation. And then, she came from all at once everywhere and nowhere to stand behind Yuko and rest her elbows gently against his shoulder blades, set her chin in the crook of his neck, and allow her mind to send him a goriously mysterious message without once parting her lips. Good evening. Scared of something?
Dihna Mehm closed her eyes, bearing her teeth in a smile as she breathed in this man's scent. Nobody of consequence, if you're curious. What I am, however; Now that is an entirely different matter. Some would call me a fallen angel, others would speak my name with a shiver in their spines as I am that which lurks in their worst nightmares. And yet, some; the smart ones; call me by what I am. An exiled angel. She wrapped her arms around him, enjoying this feeling of peace and momentary belonging. Dihna noticed, with a mental grimace, that this person was stiffening at her touch. Relax. Calm down. I don't intend to hurt you.
The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Master's Dojo (Hidden?)
Dihna Mehm inhaled the clean, fresh air that always smelled and felt the same during a rainstorm. Her dark, soaking wet hair hung in moist strands, framing her pale face in such a way that she seemed to glow with a ghostly light. She was barefoot, and as she somehow managed to walk atop of the ankle-high mud covering the ground, her long cloak licked about her heels. Her magma sword slung at her back, the woman readied herself for the incoming fight she sensed. her left hand reached behind the same shoulder, fingers wrapping loosely around the handle of the massive weapon. Dihna's thoughts pulsed with the ecstasy of the looming battle, a joy which she had not experienced in too long a time. She licked her sharpest tooth, bloodlust building deep inside of her blackened heart. Come out, come out, wherever you are. A smirk crept across the mute lady's face, as her mind communicated with vibrating air waves. I'm waiting.
Dihna Mehm closed her eyes, inhaling sharply, as the bullet pierced her skin. From Arcanus's viewpoint, it would have seemed as though she absorbed the projectile. Baring her teeth in a wicked grin, she turned her head over to look at the man's shadow. She knew he hid behind the ruined marble pillar, a remnant of the old temple; only twenty feet before her. Found you. Suddenly, Dihna seemed to flicker, and dissolve in to the air. Fingers from a disembodied hand crept up Arcanus's back, an invisible chin resting upon his shoulder. Then, arms wrapped around him, and the cold ice of Dihna's forehead touched the back of his neck. It's not nice to greet guests by shooting at them, you know. The sound of a sword being unsheathed rung out in the deathly quiet, before she swung it around and aimed to slice a light X across his back, simply for dramatic effect. She enjoyed knowing that without even trying, she could win a fight.
Dihna Mehm reached her arms up, fingers lain against each other in what looked like prayer. Above her head, the weapon her enemy bore flew towards her like the beak of a deadly raven. She simply looked up, and watched as her fingers intersected with the blade and her right arm completely disappeared in to the sword. A smile curled her blood red lips when the morphing was done, as she leaned very close to Arcanus and whispered through the body of the sword, straight in to his mind. My name means Blood Bath. It's nice to meet you. She pulled her right arm socket back, taking the sword with her, and swinging it around to her other hand. In mid-air, the weapons she now held would change hands, being tossed across her, and she weilded them with expert skill in the man's face. She sliced downwards, aiming to separate his arms from his torso.
The setting changes from Master's Dojo (Hidden?) to Gambit's Bar
Dihna Mehm treaded in through the heavy oak doors, bare feet silent against the cheap floor tiles. Her expression was dull; could almost have been described as emotionless if she had not had an aura of great despair about her. The tall woman with long, dark hair trudged towards an empty stool, sliding her damp skirt on to it. She shuddered, wet from the cold rain outside the establishment. Her black locks dripped water on to the floor as she shook uncontrollably, skin so pale she looked like a ghost. Dihna's eyes blinked heavily, her gaze on the floor, as though she was about to fall over at any moment. Whispers filled the air around her, though her lips did not move; words in all tongues caressed her arms and crowded her from every direction.
Dihna Mehm A loud crash resounded throughout the bar, the source coming from the ceiling. A series of short, deep thumps announced the presence of some being on the roof of the establishment, something otherworldly searching for an entrance. From the vantage point of above, one would see something like a pale young woman pulling herself towards the hatch opening on top of the bar. She was adorned with a pair of black wings, which shone like oil slick in the sunlight. The tip of one was missing entirely, which would have explained her rough landing. Whispers seemed to eminate from the female, her mouth unmoving but her physical form engulfed in speech. Her long, black hair blew violently in the wind, fwapping her face from all directions. The words she did not speak were in many different tongues, all screeching the same thing: I'm here, I'm here, where are you? Why won't you come out and play? Her own blood ran down her arm, dripped from her fingertips, as she grasped the metal handle of the hatch and pulled. She was inside.
Dihna Mehm pulled back her lips, bearing pointed and clear fangs of teeth. She hissed, and before her opponent could make a move she appeared, all at once, behind him--like smoke. She spoke in her native tongue, the only language she could use without mental communications. The words would have translated to this: "I fear death no more than you fear a new day's sunrise. I can come back, through the Dark Master's wishes. My body will deteriorate, but I may always reform and begin the deeds again. So come fight with me, if you dare to lose." Her lips moved by his ear, intimacy radiating from her every pore. Her speech was slow, and yet took no more than a millisecond. Time was hers to control. And suddenly, without word or warning, she moved to stab him in the small of his back with an onyx dagger she had been holding. Her own blood ran down the blade, as the weapon prepared for it to mingle with his.
Dihna Mehm strode through the doors, the soles of her ballet flats stirring up the dust covering the cement of the floor. Her long legs took deep, quick strides, each carrying her another two feet or so forward. Her eyes looked from side to side, though her head and neck did not move; And when she sat down on one of the revolving stools by the bar she barely noticed the bartender questioning her on what she would like. Dihna waved him off with a muttered 'Vodka', before setting back to gazing at the patrons. She did not consider herself as lowly as they, for even when she had been what they were she did not act as the humans did. To her, life had been an entirely different story; And now, death was all the better to enjoy. There was no threat to her, if she tormented the ones that still lived, they could not threaten her as she could endanger them. Her ways were secretive, mystical, and most of all intricate. Each plan was its own, formulated more carefully than the false story the bible contained.
Dihna Mehm took the stem of the wine glass between her index and middle fingers, the bowl resting against the inside of the aforementioned fingers. She lifted the glass to her lips, and tilted it so she could get a sip in to her mouth. When she set the container back on the marble counter, a red lipstick stain adorned the rim.
She tilted her neck back, putting her elbow on the counter, and rested her cheek on her raised fist. Her eyes focused on Matthew Walter for a few moments, before she realized he wasn't the person she was looking for. Her gaze wandered, came to rest on Kenan, then darted to 3W_3056V and stopped. She blinked, and looked back to her wine.
She tilted her neck back, putting her elbow on the counter, and rested her cheek on her raised fist. Her eyes focused on Matthew Walter for a few moments, before she realized he wasn't the person she was looking for. Her gaze wandered, came to rest on Kenan, then darted to 3W_3056V and stopped. She blinked, and looked back to her wine.
Dihna Mehm picked up her wine glass again, throat drying out from sitting for such a long period of time doing nothing. However, she found the glass to be light and empty. A realization came to her that she must have already drank the contents, at some point in the earlier evening. She flexed her shoulders as she waited, the clock in her pocket ticking loudly enough for somebody on the other side of the crowded room to hear, even over all of the ruckus.
Dihna Mehm tapped her fingernails on the bar, biting her lip in anticipation. She knew not what she was waiting for, but an anonymous call to her home had tipped her off that somebody wanted to meet her at the bar. This was rare, as she was a morbid-seeming woman that either frightened or intimidated anyone she came in contact with. She exhaled.
- Seen 31 Times • Page 1 of 2 • 1, 2