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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.

0 · 207 views · located in 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

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#, as written by pantalimon
Dihna Mehm looked up from the counter, her shining dark locks falling down all over her face. Her sky blue eyes peeked through the mask, surprisingly bright and alert; even cheerful. "Hello," She recognized his voice from the phone, felt his aura crackle in the air all around her. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

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#, as written by pantalimon
Dihna Mehm scrunched her eyebrows. The corners of her lips turned down, the light faded from her eyes. "You've heard news of Alligon?"

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Dihna Mehm put her palms to her cheeks; dim, deathly eyes focusing in on her informer. "Dead, right? All of them? I told them from the beginning it was a bad idea." She closed her eyes, her head shook slightly from side to side, and she ran a sweaty palm over her hairline. "Damned MilitiaMinds."

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Dihna Mehm threw her head back and laughed. "You don't even KNOW!" For a moment, she seemed amused, but before long her head came back and her eyes were level with his. "You've got no idea what I'm talking about. Jackass! And I paid you to go, I paid you good money. Jared's money." She clenched her jaw, a vein pulsing in her forehead. She shoved him off of his seat with the palm of her hand, a violent push that made the air spark with more electricity.

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Dihna Mehm peeled back her lips in a near snarl, flinging her head back and spinning smoothly around on one foot. "So you deny that you're Afius Carlus Denallo?"

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Dihna Mehm tilts her chin slightly to the side, looking more over her shoulder than directly at him. "Who knows? I just might, without even trying."

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Dihna Mehm turns, taking steps so quickly that she is centimeters in front of Martin's face without seeming to flinch. She tilts her head, eyes dull and focused on his. Her lips part and she breaths a deep, frozen sigh over his face. A few cracks from the under forty-degree temperature would appear on his face as she moves her lips so close to his their noses touch. "You're going to give me what I want, and you're going to get it to me on time. We both know what happens if you don't." Her hand tightened around the beverage glass on the counter, her eyes shut and her lashes beat against his cheeks. With a crackle louder than that of lightning striking a tree, she was gone, and the glass imploded--too cold for the molecules to shrink any more.

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The breeze that chilled the bar for only a moment was brought on by a woman that pushed open the door with little effort. Her mutterings were too quiet for anybody to hear, but the tone of frustration and danger was apparent in her voice and facial expression.

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As the woman pressed on to the bar, her shoulder caught that of Ben Mouse's, and she spun a quarter turn to glare at him. Her mutterings ceased only for the time it took her to squeeze a forced "Good evening," and slight curtsy, even a minor tip of her head.

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Dihna Mehm found herself staring into the eyes of Ben Mouse, waiting for a reply. It was a deadly sin, in her book, for someone to ignore an obvious greeting. "Good evening," she repeated, darkly. Was he a brick, or could he actually communicate? Dihna resisted the urge to prod his arm.

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Dihna, satisfied, nodded to him and turned to finish her walk towards the bar counter, and sat at a stool. What a peculiar man, she thought, turning the pendant of her necklace over and over in her fingers.

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