like a bit of light and a touch of dark
keep an eye on the shadow's smile
BRAYLAR FAWN • AGELESS • FEMALE • FAE • KELPIE • UNEMPLOYED
keep an eye on the shadow's smile
BRAYLAR FAWN • AGELESS • FEMALE • FAE • KELPIE • UNEMPLOYED dark necessities are part of my design
APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE
APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE APPEARANCE Few have seen Braylar's true form and live to talk about it. Most see her only as she wants them to; a young maiden, around her late teens or early twenties, with golden hair and dark, reddish-brown eyes. She can often be seen "wearing" a wide variety of clothes, but chooses to stick to a more feminine style of dresses or skirts. Of course, all of it is an illusion. It's nothing but glamour, a common fae trick to make humans believe they are seeing something that isn't there.
The trick is not foolproof, though, and as an underfae, she can only hide so much. If one were to look closely, they could see that though her hair looks soft and clean, it's texture is closer to that of a wet weed. It even still drips, giving her a permanent "fresh out of the shower" vibe. Water tends to pool at her feet if she stands too long, and her eyes flash a deeper red if she looses her cool for even a moment.
Another common glamour she conceals herself with is that of a timid, cream-colored mare. At first glance it seems she's nothing more than a horse, grazing nearby her river.
Underneath the allure is a much more sinister guise. If she were to catch the light right or should one see her in their periphery, they might know her for what she truly is—a ghoulish water horse with a hide the same color and consistency of kelp. A sparse and straggly mane sticks to her neck, sopping wet and unhealthy. Braylar's tail is much the same, hanging limp and lifeless against her haunches. Her emaciated body looks as if it should not have the strength to support even a child's weight but can hold more than the average horse. Red, blazing eyes set inside a sunken face seem to pierce through whatever they look at, and thin skin barely conceals the sharp fangs where teeth should be.
In her human glamour, she stands a little less than five and a half feet tall and looks to weigh average for her size, but if she were tp step on a scale her weight would far surpass any expectations. Her glamour can only affect how she appears, so if she stood on a scale her weight would be indicative of her true weight: nearly 2000 pounds. If asked, though, she tends to say she weighs a bit over 100 pounds.
Her mare form shares the same general stats as her true kelpie form. At six feet tall, she's around the average size and weight for a healthy Clydesdale horse. In all forms, she looks like she was standing under a torrent of water five minutes prior—a happy medium between damp and soaking wet. If she were to dry out, that wouldn't bode well for her.
The trick is not foolproof, though, and as an underfae, she can only hide so much. If one were to look closely, they could see that though her hair looks soft and clean, it's texture is closer to that of a wet weed. It even still drips, giving her a permanent "fresh out of the shower" vibe. Water tends to pool at her feet if she stands too long, and her eyes flash a deeper red if she looses her cool for even a moment.
Another common glamour she conceals herself with is that of a timid, cream-colored mare. At first glance it seems she's nothing more than a horse, grazing nearby her river.
Underneath the allure is a much more sinister guise. If she were to catch the light right or should one see her in their periphery, they might know her for what she truly is—a ghoulish water horse with a hide the same color and consistency of kelp. A sparse and straggly mane sticks to her neck, sopping wet and unhealthy. Braylar's tail is much the same, hanging limp and lifeless against her haunches. Her emaciated body looks as if it should not have the strength to support even a child's weight but can hold more than the average horse. Red, blazing eyes set inside a sunken face seem to pierce through whatever they look at, and thin skin barely conceals the sharp fangs where teeth should be.
In her human glamour, she stands a little less than five and a half feet tall and looks to weigh average for her size, but if she were tp step on a scale her weight would far surpass any expectations. Her glamour can only affect how she appears, so if she stood on a scale her weight would be indicative of her true weight: nearly 2000 pounds. If asked, though, she tends to say she weighs a bit over 100 pounds.
Her mare form shares the same general stats as her true kelpie form. At six feet tall, she's around the average size and weight for a healthy Clydesdale horse. In all forms, she looks like she was standing under a torrent of water five minutes prior—a happy medium between damp and soaking wet. If she were to dry out, that wouldn't bode well for her.
the darkness helps to sort the shine
PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY PERSONALITY Most lesser fae are hedonistic by nature, and Braylar is no different. Her entire existence is based upon doing what she feels like doing and having what she feels like having. Her motivations can be boiled down to "does it feel good?" If yes, great. If no, move on and find what does. Music, art, food; she is driven to find the best and is often drawn to individuals with talents in those fields. It's someone's best bet at becoming something like a friend.
Braylar's den is full of pilfered goods she found interesting—ranging from jewelry to books to art—and her inner circle is reserved for interesting and talented people. Above all, Braylar wants to be entertained and sometimes that goal comes out in the form of mild pranks, usually with the assistance of glamour. At the very least this means that Braylar is often seen smiling, and her bad moods are severely outnumbered by her good moods. It's rare to see an angry Braylar.
Her morals are skewed due to her fae upbringing. She worries herself not with the feelings of others and doesn't blink at the thought of insulting someone, and murder doesn't seem like such a ridiculous thing. When in conversation, she's usually found making wild excuses for criminals, unable to see why it was so wrong.
She's petty and takes personal offence to any perceived slight, whether it be something as simple as accidentally bumping into her or as grievous as outright attacking her. Braylar will react in any way she sees fit for an offence, whether that be physical harm, eating the person, public humiliation, or even simple insults. Her grudges are legendary and can last for centuries, driving her to take revenge on entire family lines—so long as they live by her den. Out of sight, out of mind. The moment they return, though, the grudge is back on.
Despite all of this, she can be high functioning. So long as she has an interest, she can hold a conversation like any normal person. Assuming no one has caused her accidental or intentional offence, she can be polite and friendly. Braylar knows how to put on airs and act the right way in most situations, she simply chooses not most of the time.
Pretending to be someone she's not is tiring, and she prefers to put up fronts only when she is hunting. Smile and flirt with a drab person and perhaps she can lure them back to her river and have a meal. Compliment someone and laugh at their jokes, and maybe she can convince them to play another tune on their instrument. If someone doesn't have something she wants, she reverts to her abrasive and mischevious ways.
One thing you rarely see from Braylar is true fear. She may become nervous, but there has hardly been a reason for her to be scared. Even less so now that she's in a place where her kind is accepted and commonplace. Of course, it makes it that much hard to find someone stupid enough to take a swim with her. . . .
Braylar's den is full of pilfered goods she found interesting—ranging from jewelry to books to art—and her inner circle is reserved for interesting and talented people. Above all, Braylar wants to be entertained and sometimes that goal comes out in the form of mild pranks, usually with the assistance of glamour. At the very least this means that Braylar is often seen smiling, and her bad moods are severely outnumbered by her good moods. It's rare to see an angry Braylar.
Her morals are skewed due to her fae upbringing. She worries herself not with the feelings of others and doesn't blink at the thought of insulting someone, and murder doesn't seem like such a ridiculous thing. When in conversation, she's usually found making wild excuses for criminals, unable to see why it was so wrong.
She's petty and takes personal offence to any perceived slight, whether it be something as simple as accidentally bumping into her or as grievous as outright attacking her. Braylar will react in any way she sees fit for an offence, whether that be physical harm, eating the person, public humiliation, or even simple insults. Her grudges are legendary and can last for centuries, driving her to take revenge on entire family lines—so long as they live by her den. Out of sight, out of mind. The moment they return, though, the grudge is back on.
Despite all of this, she can be high functioning. So long as she has an interest, she can hold a conversation like any normal person. Assuming no one has caused her accidental or intentional offence, she can be polite and friendly. Braylar knows how to put on airs and act the right way in most situations, she simply chooses not most of the time.
Pretending to be someone she's not is tiring, and she prefers to put up fronts only when she is hunting. Smile and flirt with a drab person and perhaps she can lure them back to her river and have a meal. Compliment someone and laugh at their jokes, and maybe she can convince them to play another tune on their instrument. If someone doesn't have something she wants, she reverts to her abrasive and mischevious ways.
One thing you rarely see from Braylar is true fear. She may become nervous, but there has hardly been a reason for her to be scared. Even less so now that she's in a place where her kind is accepted and commonplace. Of course, it makes it that much hard to find someone stupid enough to take a swim with her. . . .
find the world and show command
POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS
POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS POWERS Traits of a Fae
As a subspecies of fae, the kelpie, Braylar is ageless. Not to be confused with immortal, which is often misused. Any fatal wound will kill her, but she will not die of old age like a human would. Her day of birth was so long ago she's forgotten it, along with the exact amount of years she's been alive. In fae terms, time is completely relative and days, even weeks, go by unnoticed or seemingly in the blink of an eye.
Glamour is the basis of all fae abilities. It works much the same as an illusion but is also like advanced sleight of hand. With the right charm, she hides her appearance behind a fancy mask. She can conceal other things, as well. Perhaps glamour a handful of leaves into money, or convince someone a rat carcass is a cupcake. You should never eat something a fae offers you.
It is not perfect, though. One with gifted sight can see through it quite easily, and her powers are not as grand as the upper echelon of the fae. All glamour fades within time if not kept up. If she pays for something with glamoured leaves, the cashier would find them in their drawer a few hours later. Any strong emotion can trigger a misstep in the charm and she might show her true colors for an instant—a flash of fangs, a glint of green skin.
She also cannot continuously keep herself glamoured. It will wear on her stamina and if left on too long, it becomes easier to shatter. Fitting all of that untamed water horse into the small package of a human girl is quite uncomfortable, as well.
It becomes even more tiring for her the closer she is to a city setting. Iron and pollution are the ultimate enemies of the fae; the mere touch of iron sears her skin and fumes (hairspray, car exhaust, cigarette smoke, etc) make her violently ill. They are the only injuries that a fae's slightly enhanced healing can't fix. A small cut may heal within an hour, and it takes perhaps a week to heal a broken bone, but a fatal blow is still a fatal blow.
They find a lot of delight in a bargain, so if you find yourself in a compromising position with Braylar, offer up anything of value and she might take it over your life. As well, fae find it difficult to speak in outright lies but have become well-versed in peddling half-truths and vague statements.
One absolute way to hold dominion over a fae is to know their name. Their true name. Most guard theirs as precious secrets, never speaking them once. Braylar will only ever introduce herself as Braylar, keeping "Fawn" to herself until the day she dies. Knowing a fae's true name is a dangerous business, though. Uttering it gives someone absolute control, able to coerce a fae to do anything, and they don't take kindly to that. Should anyone discover Braylar's true name, she will do whatever she can to silence that person forever.
Traits of a Kelpie
They have no spectacular powers on their own, but do have a few things going for their subspecies: Kelpies have an adhesive hide that is near impossible to unstick from. Should one find themselves stuck to a kelpie, their only chance for survival is to purge the limb and run as fast as they can. It would be wise not to trust any strange horse you find near a bed of water.
Braylar chooses rivers over most other bodies of water, enjoying the current and white noise they offer. As they are a type of water horse, kelpies are capable of breathing under water and prefer to spend the majority of their time submerged beneath the surface. They are excellent swimmers, and it often brings her joy to watch her victims as they drown—the one thing she will never experience. She has no preference for salt or fresh water, and she can speak in any form she decides to take.
As a subspecies of fae, the kelpie, Braylar is ageless. Not to be confused with immortal, which is often misused. Any fatal wound will kill her, but she will not die of old age like a human would. Her day of birth was so long ago she's forgotten it, along with the exact amount of years she's been alive. In fae terms, time is completely relative and days, even weeks, go by unnoticed or seemingly in the blink of an eye.
Glamour is the basis of all fae abilities. It works much the same as an illusion but is also like advanced sleight of hand. With the right charm, she hides her appearance behind a fancy mask. She can conceal other things, as well. Perhaps glamour a handful of leaves into money, or convince someone a rat carcass is a cupcake. You should never eat something a fae offers you.
It is not perfect, though. One with gifted sight can see through it quite easily, and her powers are not as grand as the upper echelon of the fae. All glamour fades within time if not kept up. If she pays for something with glamoured leaves, the cashier would find them in their drawer a few hours later. Any strong emotion can trigger a misstep in the charm and she might show her true colors for an instant—a flash of fangs, a glint of green skin.
She also cannot continuously keep herself glamoured. It will wear on her stamina and if left on too long, it becomes easier to shatter. Fitting all of that untamed water horse into the small package of a human girl is quite uncomfortable, as well.
It becomes even more tiring for her the closer she is to a city setting. Iron and pollution are the ultimate enemies of the fae; the mere touch of iron sears her skin and fumes (hairspray, car exhaust, cigarette smoke, etc) make her violently ill. They are the only injuries that a fae's slightly enhanced healing can't fix. A small cut may heal within an hour, and it takes perhaps a week to heal a broken bone, but a fatal blow is still a fatal blow.
They find a lot of delight in a bargain, so if you find yourself in a compromising position with Braylar, offer up anything of value and she might take it over your life. As well, fae find it difficult to speak in outright lies but have become well-versed in peddling half-truths and vague statements.
One absolute way to hold dominion over a fae is to know their name. Their true name. Most guard theirs as precious secrets, never speaking them once. Braylar will only ever introduce herself as Braylar, keeping "Fawn" to herself until the day she dies. Knowing a fae's true name is a dangerous business, though. Uttering it gives someone absolute control, able to coerce a fae to do anything, and they don't take kindly to that. Should anyone discover Braylar's true name, she will do whatever she can to silence that person forever.
Traits of a Kelpie
They have no spectacular powers on their own, but do have a few things going for their subspecies: Kelpies have an adhesive hide that is near impossible to unstick from. Should one find themselves stuck to a kelpie, their only chance for survival is to purge the limb and run as fast as they can. It would be wise not to trust any strange horse you find near a bed of water.
Braylar chooses rivers over most other bodies of water, enjoying the current and white noise they offer. As they are a type of water horse, kelpies are capable of breathing under water and prefer to spend the majority of their time submerged beneath the surface. They are excellent swimmers, and it often brings her joy to watch her victims as they drown—the one thing she will never experience. She has no preference for salt or fresh water, and she can speak in any form she decides to take.
with the track record of a maniac
BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY
BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY Times were simple for a while. People didn't know to be wary of the waters and what lurk beneath the placid surfaces. A horse was just a horse, and Braylar ate to her heart's content. But as time moved on, the stories became more elaborate. The townsfolk stopped wandering so near to her territory, choosing instead a river farther away to keep more children or gullible adults from disappearing.
So she became more proactive. Braylar put together a human guise, one based off a victim she'd taken years prior. She travelled to the village, luring young and encourageable men or women back to her lair to feed. But even then, people became more and more suspicious of strangers.
Eventually, they took up arms against her and drove her from her home. She found a new residence some miles away, and it was easier here. They hadn't heard of the dangerous water horse. They didn't know to be wary of the pretty traveling maiden. Until, again, she went overboard and they caught on to her ways. Again, she found herself running and finding a new home.
Until one day, the neighboring cities banned together.
Until one day, when they decided to hunt down and kill the thing eating their children and making them fear the lakes that had been a haven for fresh water and delicious fish. They set out to trap and kill Braylar, end her so-called evil ways. It was one of the first and only times she has ever felt true terror. The hunter becoming the hunter, an apex predator finding themselves at the bottom of the food chain. Was it so wrong for her to want to eat and live? Was she any different from the humans that kept and killed livestock for nourishment?
They couldn't see past their own hubris. They saw her only as a dumb monster.
But there were those who didn't. There were those who knew she was another living creature trying to make her way in the world. For generations she had lived among the humans, doing as she please. She wasn't just a monster to them, she was a complicated organism that deserved to live and have a chance. That she could be part of a society, if kept in balance and given a chance.
So they stole her from the clutches of an angry mob and relocated her to an island. A place where there were others like her. Other fae, other creatures. Even humans that would know her and not fear her. Maybe human meals would be hard to come by, but at least she'd have a chance. She had been around so long, it would be cruel to allow narrow-minded, scared humans to snuff out a life like that.
And so she started her life on Manta Carlos Islands. She picked an unclaimed stretch of river and built her den deep in the submerged bank. Adjusting is difficult, but Braylar is doing her best not to ruin it, but it is not so easy for a tiger to change its stripes.
So she became more proactive. Braylar put together a human guise, one based off a victim she'd taken years prior. She travelled to the village, luring young and encourageable men or women back to her lair to feed. But even then, people became more and more suspicious of strangers.
Eventually, they took up arms against her and drove her from her home. She found a new residence some miles away, and it was easier here. They hadn't heard of the dangerous water horse. They didn't know to be wary of the pretty traveling maiden. Until, again, she went overboard and they caught on to her ways. Again, she found herself running and finding a new home.
Until one day, the neighboring cities banned together.
Until one day, when they decided to hunt down and kill the thing eating their children and making them fear the lakes that had been a haven for fresh water and delicious fish. They set out to trap and kill Braylar, end her so-called evil ways. It was one of the first and only times she has ever felt true terror. The hunter becoming the hunter, an apex predator finding themselves at the bottom of the food chain. Was it so wrong for her to want to eat and live? Was she any different from the humans that kept and killed livestock for nourishment?
They couldn't see past their own hubris. They saw her only as a dumb monster.
But there were those who didn't. There were those who knew she was another living creature trying to make her way in the world. For generations she had lived among the humans, doing as she please. She wasn't just a monster to them, she was a complicated organism that deserved to live and have a chance. That she could be part of a society, if kept in balance and given a chance.
So they stole her from the clutches of an angry mob and relocated her to an island. A place where there were others like her. Other fae, other creatures. Even humans that would know her and not fear her. Maybe human meals would be hard to come by, but at least she'd have a chance. She had been around so long, it would be cruel to allow narrow-minded, scared humans to snuff out a life like that.
And so she started her life on Manta Carlos Islands. She picked an unclaimed stretch of river and built her den deep in the submerged bank. Adjusting is difficult, but Braylar is doing her best not to ruin it, but it is not so easy for a tiger to change its stripes.
so I'm moving in and we unpack
