Sophia ir'Sentius

[Psycho Cuten]

Sophia ir'Sentius is the daughter of the wealthy ir'Sentius family, and betrothed to the famous Khale ir'Dantus. In spite of rigorous schooling and proper disciplining, her manner is carefree, blunt, and ill suited for the politics of nobility. Always the rebel, she refuses to become the ladylike, subservient, wife that her mother is.

In the most recent years, she has been more rebellious than ever, openly defying her father at public functions, and by accounts of the city guards, cutting classes to masquerade as a commoner and peruse the marketplace. Though there is no official comment from Lord ir'Sentius, as of late rumors have spread that she's run off again, and has yet to be found.

The quiet smile on her lips gives her the appearance of a simple, happy go lucky girl, but looking deeply enough into her dark brown eyes reveals a certain strength, a willful and defiant young woman. Her long rich brunette hair usually hangs loosely, dancing chaotically in the wind, though sometimes she will tie it back when absolutely necessary. Those that know her know she is a free spirit, doing as she pleases, her thoughts as unpredictable as the violent storm.

When not forced to wear formal dresses for the functions of nobility, she prefers to wear vibrantly colored, comfortable clothing of the latest fashion.


"Rowdie" is one of the many odd translucent creatures that occasionally follows her around. Formed from ectoplasmic material on the astral plane, it is merely a construct, yet acts on her whims as though it had a rudimentary personality. Like Sophia, Rowdie is very energetic and loves to play, and is fiercely loyal to its friends, often watching over Sophia when she sleeps at night.


Also formed from astral material, Sophia can call upon a blade of energy in dire situations. The blade bends and sways unpredictably, and pseudo-pods of kinetic energy dance along its surface.

Sheet: www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/view.php?id=75497

[Psycho Cuten]

Do I regret it?

As I lie awake tonight, I wonder about all the paths I haven't walked, and will I live to walk them some day. Will my next careless mistake be the cause of someone's death? Will I be the one that pays for that mistake?

It is a wonder that I did anything at all, back there. Rowdie seems to feed off of my fear, so I guess it's only natural he came to my rescue. The jigg is up though, Khale and Jarot probably know by now. They'd have to be idiots not to notice. Only a matter of time before they send me back home.

Maybe I'm not cut out for this. Maybe it is my lot in life to become like my mother; quiet, subservient, and dead inside. After all, isn't that every woman's role in life? Still, there was something there. A thrill I had never felt before. To fight by his side, it felt as if we were kids again, playing our same dangerous games.

Before it ends, I want to live this lie, just a little bit longer.

[Psycho Cuten]

Smoke from the fires clouded the sky in a murky orangish grey, and the smell of fresh blood was in the air. Men and women shouted and screamed, killing and dieing as the din of battle reached a feverish pitch.

The warzone played itself out in slow motion before Sophia's eyes. The great doors creaked open as Jarot worked the winch, Khale shouting valiantly to rally the troops. All at once, each and every sound was drowned by a malicious whispering, every face masked in a white fog, save one.

The feral woman's image was perfectly clear in contrast to her indistinct allies. With purpose, she pointed in Jarot's direction, and yelled to her allies, though her voice was echoed and incomprehensible. At once Sophia seethed with anger, not understanding its source, and her limbs moved of their own volition, charging headlong into what seemed like a wall of swords.

Sophia's contorting blade of barely controlled energy screeched and lit ablaze with psychic energy as it plunged itself into the heart of the ferocious commander. Sophia looked on in horror, as the color faded from the woman's surprised gaze, and her body collapsed to the ground. Time stood still on the battlefield, and no one moved as Sophia stood there, transfixed on her victim, her own hands now covered in dripping blood. The woman looked back up at her with a vacant yet accusing stare and the whispering grew louder in Sophia's ear. A hateful voice repeating the same word, over and over...

"Murderer..."

Sophia woke with a gasp to find herself still in that dank cell, and drenched in a cold sweat. She did not turn to see if the others noticed her, or were also sleeping. Right now she only wished to wade through the mire of her own thoughts.