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WHEN THE SAINTS COME MARCHING IN//O, SWEET FEVER!: Bahretiya Al-Alawah

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WHEN THE SAINTS COME MARCHING IN//O, SWEET FEVER!

Etherlite Heart, Wandering Tower. Do you see them dancing? the future is indeterminate. 314 Eschatologies Corrected. 1.5 Remaining.

Compendium

Bahretiya Al-Alawah

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Alignment: Neutral Evil
Age: 23
Likes: Mysteries, Swimming
Dislikes: Change
Talents: Drawing, Chemistry
Natural Enemy: Salim Rem-Shamshir
Image Colour: Red & Blue
Origin: Rejection
Element: Water, Fire
Day of Decisive Battle: Ghosts Under the Deep Salt Sea//This Sediment Called 'Man'

Information

The Alawah family have held stewardship over the Dead Sea for untold generations, when it was still Lake Lisan. Before Magecraft was codified, before humanity had truly gained consciousness in the World it existed in, the ancestors of this woman sat at the shores of a vast, unknowable lake, not yet void of life as it is now. They spoke to something that lived within the depths of lake-- a great beast, or perhaps a fairy, an extension of the World. Whatever the truth, they formed some kind of contract with the lake's unnatural denizen, and so were charged with the safeguarding of the lake, their bodies changing and warping to be closer to the beings that existed in the lake. As the time passed, and the lake became a sea, as it began to recede and fade with agonizing slowness, they continued this duty. Already separated from humanity as a result of their contract, they took naturally to Magecraft-- though, they did not partake in the formation of the Association, nor did they send their children to the Clock Tower, or to their southwestern counterparts in the Atlas Mountains.

--Of course, the only constant in the thaumaturgical world is its decline. Though they could prevent others from misusing the sea and its inhabitant directly, they could do nothing against the slow, inexorable decline of Mystery, and the World's changing climate. By the 16th Century, the phantasmal patron of the Alawah clan could no longer maintain a physical body. As the world changed and the sea became something valuable to humanity and thus no longer separated from it, even the voice of the fairy grew quieter, more distant, until finally, around two hundred years ago it fell silent once and for all, its departure heralding the beginning of the Industrial Age. The alterations to their bodies became more like mutations-- fragile gills prone to infection, vestigial scales more akin to scabs than skin, sharklike teeth that fall out with just a little effort. Still, they persevered. Beyond their loyalty to their disappeared master, this was their home. They were more involved in political and cultural struggles in the area than most Magi, for their loyalty was ultimately to the land they lived on, more than even the Root itself. Such a thing had never truly been their goal.

Still, they could only stave off the rot for so long. In the modern day, facing terminal stagnation, their next heir was sent to the Clock Tower, in the futile hope that the key to reversing their future might lay there.

Bahretiya Al-Alawah. She doesn't care about any of it. She still hears the voice of the fairy, or she thinks she does, and still looks for her in the polluted reflection of the Thames. She doesn't want to find that change-- she wants to stay exactly the same.

Considered something close to a prodigy, Miss Al-Alawah primarily studies in Spiritual Evocation, with additional courses in Mineralogy and Creation-- although, her grades in Mineralogy are falling behind, like it doesn't really interest her. her laissez-faire attitude clashes with her academic success, and it's not uncommon to find her with her head in a sketchbook during most of her classes. She likes anatomical drawings, the interior of the human body and how it works. Sometimes she draws her own gills, and imagines them clean, missing the accumulated scar tissue of each infection, the irritation from the chlorine in the tap water. She's an extremophile, used to the kind of water that would pickle most things alive, but her body is pathetically weak to the pollutants of the modern world. Swimming in the open sea might as well be a death sentence for her, so she sits in her flat, in an expensive tank her family paid to have installed so her gills wouldn't seal shut and fuse from disuse, and she seethes at the world for making itself so hostile to her. She likes you. You're not sure why, but her friendship doesn't come easily, so you should try not to squander it.

--There's something more, deep below, but you can't pierce through. The sea is infinite, fathomless, and she is built for those depths. You can only skim the surface, and marvel at the abyssopelagic creature below.

Updated November 6th, 2022 at 01:50 PM by YoungMeme

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