#graphic: melantha

[msommers]

when the media you're consuming to cope goes far enough to convince you to make some characters oop [template]

[ghostedgrim]

Imagine joining a rebellion to rid your world of its awful government. You dedicate your life to this rebellion. And when the day comes to defeat the evil being that has controlled your world for far too long, you learn that not only are you it's child, and that you never were a human, but also the harbinger to bring the ending that very being craves.

-Uncanny Valley, by me. A current work-in-progress.

[livvywrites]

character intro [sd]

pinterest | wip intro | aura | melantha | chase | corintha | golden coin | fortwall | golden coin | wynria

name: corintha voclain

appearance: nut brown hair usually kept in a bun; golden eyes; olive skin. corintha keeps her nails long and sharp, like claws. she favors the color orange, though will also wear red and shades of yellow. 

summary: corintha is the dark keeper. she’s confident to the point of arrogance. her control of her magic is finely honed. she’s excellent with poisons and potions. she practices patience, yet can lose her patience at the slightest provocation. while fiercely intelligent, there is something about her that is almost unhinged, and wild. 

excerpt:

[warnings for some non-graphic violence involving fire magic]

Corintha walked down the stairs, the sound of her heels echoing through the halls. Behind her, the guard on duty shut the door. The air was cool and damp against her skin. Unpleasant, but then, it was supposed to be. Mold or moss grew on the walls and between the cracks of the floor, and in the distance, there was the sound of dripping. It was, all in all, exactly what one would imagine when they pictured a dungeon.

Corintha loved it.

She took her time getting to the end of the hall, coming to a stop before the last door on the right. Inside was a fat bald man, looking none to happy with his accommodations.

“Oi! What’s the meaning of this?” He demanded. “This how you treat all of your guests?”

“Only the ones that irritate me,” Corintha said dryly. She crossed her arms. “Which you have done. Spectacularly.” 

Not only did the man write her directly to say that he had valuable information, but he had the audacity to put a price on it. And not just any price. No, the man wasn’t after money. He wanted power. To be put in a position of respect. Perhaps Corintha would give it to him. For now, though, she had a lesson to teach.

She was not a power to be trifled with, and she had no concerns about “playing nice.”

“Well, you can forget your information then,” Viktor said scathingly. “I’m not tellin’ you nothin’.”

Corintha laughed. “You say that as if you have a choice.” It was a small matter to bend a mind. Corintha had done it many times before. Perhaps she would exercise it today. But not before the lesson had begun. “Tell me, Viktor, why take your information to me? Why not the Sapphire Dream? She seems more that of your… station.”

Viktor scoffed. “A thief nobody knows nothin’ about? Hardly. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows ‘bout you, though.”

Not entirely true. But they knew enough. Corintha ruled with fear, in most cases. She had tried love, once, and found it wanting. Fear was much more intoxicating… and far more effective. Even the monarchy bent to her will, after they had seen what she could do. The only reason she wasn’t sitting on the throne was because she had foreign ambitions. Perhaps an empire would suit her one day, but it wouldn’t start here.

“I’ve never been one for hiding, it’s true,” Corintha said. “Nor am I a woman with great patience. You said in your letters you wanted power. Influence.”

Viktor glared. “Yeah, and I got a prison cell for it.”

“I want to make something very clear.” The torches went out, one by one, until they were shrouded in darkness. “You do not call the shots.” Flames flickered to life in her hands, licking at her fingers like tongues. “I am in charge.” Her hand shot through the bars, gripping his bicep in a vice grip. He screamed, trying to jerk from her. She dug her nails in. “Whatever power you get, it will be by my grace. You will not make demands of me. You will do what I say, when I say it, or I swear to you I will leave you a charred husk of a man. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, let me go!”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, mistress, please, fuck.”

She let his arm go, and he sunk to his knees, clutching the palm print on his arm and sobbing. The acrid smell of piss and burning flesh filled the air.

“Where are the sapphires?”

“Fortwall,” he breathed. “They’re in Fortwall.”

She smiled. “Excellent.” The torches lit themselves once more. “A physician will be down in a moment. Your wound will be seen to, and you’ll be delivered to your new chambers. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Kunth.”

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