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Lysaria Lestibournes

A Twinborn looking for some excitement.

0 · 1,363 views · located in Gambit's Hotel, 4th Floor

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

Description

Allomancy
Allomancy is one of the three magic systems in the Mistborn fantasy novel trilogy, and is the most prominent. People capable of Allomancy are known as Allomancers. Allomancers have the ability to "burn" (or use) metals, in order to fuel a variety of physical and mental enhancements and abilities. For an additional burst of power, they may flare, or burn their metal especially quickly, consuming it at an accelerated rate, but gaining greater benefits in return. A person who can only burn one metal is known as a Misting. If a person is born with the ability to burn more than one metal, they can burn all Allomantic metals, and are known as Mistborn.
There are 16 metals that Allomancers are able to use: 8 basic metals (4 base metals and 4 alloys) and 8 Higher metals (4 base metals and 4 alloys). All these metals must be pure when ingested, and the alloys must be mixed to specific proportions. If the metals are impure or mixed wrong the Allomancer could become very ill or possibly die.
The Allomantic metals come in four groupings of four metals: Physical, Mental, Temporal, and Enhancement. Each of these four groupings has two base metals and their corresponding alloys, which in turn have a related ability. Each metal produces an Internal or an External, an Push or an Pull effect.

Feruchemy
Feruchemy is the second magic system in the series. Feruchemy works differently from the other magics. While an Allomancer burns metal to gain power, a Feruchemist can use these sames metals as holding units, or minds, to store up their own power. Basically, depending on the metal, a Feruchemist can become worse at something in exchange to be equally better in the future. No power is gained or lost.
The major strength of Feruchemy versus Allomancy is the speed at which one can access its power. While a Feruchemist must provide the power for the magic from himself, storing it over time, an Allomancer can simply consume metals to power the magic. However, an Allomancer has limits to how much power they can draw at once; a Feruchemist can draw out the power of the metalmind with virtually no upper limit, exhausting it in one massive burst if they so choose. For instance, a Feruchemist tapping a pewtermind can be far, far stronger than even a very powerful Mistborn burning pewter, if only for a short time.

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Lysaria is a Twinborn, a person who has one Feruchemical power and one Allomantic power. She has to power to 'burn' iron, revealing blue lines that lead to her chest. With them, she can 'Pull' on the lines, which lead to metal. Physics still apply; if the item is larger, she goes towards it, if smaller, it comes to her, and if equal, then both move about the same distance. Mistings who can burn iron are know as Lurchers.
As a Feruchemist, she can store fortune, or luck, in a metal called chromium. While storing, Lysaria becomes unlucky, and when tapping, the opposite happens. Ferrings who use chromium are called Spinners.

As a person, Lysaria lives the life of a Twinborn and a courtly lady. Having her powers has given her freedom, she can be both polite and cutting, depending on the situation. For the most part, she is what is described as a 'tomboy', though the word has not gained significance where she comes from. Adventurous, brave, a bit short-tempered and sometimes foolish.

She wears a mistcoat, essentially a jacket with long swirling tassels, occasionally. Otherwise, she usually dressed in a late 18th century style suit, rather than a dress. After all, it's hard to move in one of those. She carries a flask tied to her belt, filled with whiskey and iron shavings. Lysaria also carries hip holsters that holds two Sterion 36's, six-shot revolvers modified to carry various types of bullets. A steel plate is worn on her chest.

Lysaria has long, wavy, blonde hair, which is pulled back into a ponytail when on official business. Her eyes are chocolate-brown and she stands at about 5'2, making her a fairly small target. She is fair enough, as far as looks go, though for the most part tends to hide anything that would get her noticed overtly.

So begins...

Lysaria Lestibournes's Story

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"Well, I have something akin to magic, so I guess I'm pretty okay with it," Lysaria said, tilting her head back and forth. "In fact, I would trust it with my life, which it's saved higher than I can count. What comes after four again?"

She didn't look at the man either, but snickered and then pouted at Jenna. "There goes my plan to get you to lower your guard and then grope your ass," she said with false disappointment, "Time to default to plan B."

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The blonde quirked a brow at the sudden change in personality for the other woman, then waggled her fingers threateningly towards the other's lower body. "I skip the lowering your guard part and go straight to the groping," she said casually.

She moved her hand back away, grabbing her drink instead and taking a gulp from it, rolling her eyes. "I was kidding, in case you couldn't tell."

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Lysaria grinned at Jenna, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm not sure if you're insecure about your sexuality, insecure about your sexuality, or bad at catching on to jokes, from that look on your face."

"Seeing as your idea of making friends is kicking them in the head, I'd have to say I like my way better," she replied with a wink. The commotion towards the door drew her attention though. "Ugh...you know, we should probably help that girl."

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"So within a few hours, we've clarified that you're insecure and are a dominatrix. I think we've made great progress, don't you? And I don't even know your name," Lysaria pointed out, giggling.

"Sure, because you need a context to pick up on something like that. And I'm sure you weren't, or all your friends would have to have a pretty weird kink. Though maybe that's the case, eh?" She winked at her companion, downing her drink.

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Lysaria continued giggling, her cheeks slightly red. "I think you're just choosing to receive the signals wrongly and I bet that not all you have trouble receiving!" She made a "V" with her pointer and middle and slid a finger in between them, in case the dirty joke wasn't clear.

"Oh, and I'm Lysaria. Nice to meet you," she said, trying to get over her laughing fit.

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Lysaria simply laughed as the woman left, waving. "I'm sure we will. Try not to get too uncomfortable."

Now that her companion was gone, she didn't really fancy sticking around. Hopping off the seat, the woman stumbled forward before regaining balance and heading for the door. She almost made it there without incidence, aside from the bumping into said door before opening it.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Dark Woods

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The slightly drunk woman stumbled down the shoddy path of the forest, giggling to herself at the trees. "Wow, that one looks like...a...I probably shouldn't say it! It's not appropriate for a lady! Then again, when am I ever appropriate for a lady?" she mused to herself, looking down to the mistcoat on her body.

The voice pricked at her ears, and Lysaria looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. "Hellooooo? Is anyone there? Your poetry suuuuucks!" she told the voice before promptly walking into a tree. "Ow! That wasn't very nice you offensively shaped tree!"

So she was probably more than a little drunk. Luckily, that meant she could chalk up the voice to delusions and carry on walking down that path.

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"Hiiiiii, Kadron. Ron. Wrong. You're wrong? You're wrong! I bet you're lying, it's totally yours! You just realised it bad and you're trying to avoid it," Lysaria accused the other voice, even though there was a clear difference in tone and pitch. Who said drunk people had sense? She stumbled a bit before also heading towards the source of the friendlier voice.

However, the threatening noise gave her pause and she scratched her head. "Huh? Is that...goooood doggy! Sit! Stay!" she purred to the growler. "Mr. Wrong, do you have a doggy? Because it reaaaally has no manners at all. You should tell your doggy that I am a nice person!"

Any distortion in the forest went unnoticed to the woman with skewed perception.

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"Oh yeah? Well if that was an example of your poetry then you should be ashamed of it!" Lysaria informed the man, waggling her finger at nothing in particular. "Oh, doggies don't listen to you...except when they're your doggies. Okay then."

"Hey, how're you sure that you're not the one that made it mad, Mr. Wrong? Maybe your poetry was so bad that the doggy was unhappy with it," she childishly retorted, "I mean- ah!" The blonde was cut off by the rift in the ground and fell backwards onto her behind.

"Ouch! What was that? Earthquake? Rust and Ruin, duck and coverrrrr!" she called out, rolling around on the ground and covering her head. "Mr. Wrong, save me from the falling wallssssss, they're going to eat me! And by eat me, I mean kill me, if that wasn't clear!"

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Lysaria had her eyes covered as she rolled, her mistcoat picking up dirt. Then again, its colour was dark enough that it probably wouldn't matter much. She peeked out from behind the hand-barrier, eyes widening at the sight of the wolf. "Ooooh, that's a pretty doggy. It it yours, Mr. Wrong?" she inquired the elf who had recently come close to her.

"It looks like it's hurt though. It's bad to hurt your doggies. You really shouldn't do it," Lysaria

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"It looks like it's hurt though. It's bad to hurt your doggies. You really shouldn't do it," Lysaria informed him, shaking her head disappointedly. "People don't like being hurt."

"Speaking of which, the earthquake is being mean, so help!"

The setting changes from Dark Woods to Gambit's Bar

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The door was promptly kicked open and a woman with her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail entered. Her revolver was drawn and pointed straight forward. The mistcloak she wore flapped with the wind created by movement, and she yelled, "Alright, assholes. Cut the shit, some of us actually came to drink. Take your penis comparison contest outside, you hear?"

She burned iron and blues lines invisible to all but her sprang up, leading to various sources of metal. The woman prepared to Pull on the weapons that people were firing at each other. "Anyone who has a problem can take it up with me."

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Lysaria braced herself by Pulling on a large metal gate that was behind her, managing to stay in place. "Rust and Ruin, people in here just don't listen for Ironeyes' sake everyone calm down, right now!" she yelled, trying to get things back in order. "It's like people don't know this is a bar and not a battlefield," the Twinborn muttered to herself.

"I repeat, everyone stop fighting!"

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Lysaria strongly debated putting a bullet in each man's leg, then decided against it. Sighing, she made her way through the ruins of the bar, expecting that it would be fixed by tomorrow. She slumped into a stool, holstering her gun and throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. "Everyone here is an idiot."

Brushing away debris from the counter in front of her, she pressed her face into her arms, resting them on the newly cleared space.

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The woman looked over to the cushion, scowling at it. She gave up being surprised at such a strange thing. In fact, she gave it up to attempt to fluff the cushion. Hard. Very hard.

"I am. I'm an idiot for coming in here at all, but I thought I could get a drink without finding a firefight. I really, really hoped. Now, unless you want your stuffing to join the chaos here, I suggest you shut your seams."

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"Because there shouldn't be talking cushions. Be glad I don't spill something that stains on you," she threatened, "I may well still do it if you annoy me enough."

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"Cushions aren't a race, because they aren't usually animate. So there's just you, and I know you're not a cushion, at a guess. In addition, it doesn't matter what you are; I'm unhappy, so I will hurt you," Lysaria replied, "It's not racist at all."

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Character Portrait: Raiivyn Character Portrait: DIN-02 Gold Character Portrait: Lysaria Lestibournes
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#, as written by Script
"So wha', you're jus' an ass?" the cushion retorted, "Don'tcha know it's not right to take out your anger on innocent people? Nobody likes people who do that! You're a saaadist, a nasty evil saaadist!"

The cushion blew a raspberry, despite having no tongue.

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"Ass? I'll show you ass, and it's not too bad if I do say so myself," she shot back, laughing slightly. The blonde then stood and prepared to sit down on top of the cushion. "Like I said, cushions aren't people. You probably won't feel a thing, you were meant to be sit on. And don't worry, I don't feel pleasure from causing pain."

"It's just convenient that it will make me feel better."

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#, as written by Script
"Ewwwww!" the cushion exclaimed, disappearing in a poof of smoke just as Lysaria sat down. It reappeared on the counter, before a second poof of smoke surrounded it. When the smoke cleared, the furry form of Raiivyn himself was sat cross legged on the counter. "Eww, I don't want anything to do with your butt! You're a pedo is what you are, rubbin' your butt in a lil' kid's face!"