Cecily
Cecily
Cecily has spent her entire life either in foster care or fending for herself on the streets. Seemingly nothing has worked out in her favor in her short 15 years of life. But one day, during an emotional breaking point, Cecily suddenly and unknowingly unlocked magical powers within herself. She caused quite a mess, and now, confronted with all sorts of questions about her abilities and purpose, she finds herself on the streets again, running form what she's done.
Her sorcerer powers continue to grow, much to her surprise, but she still has no idea where they came from or how to own them. Ironically though, she's been pretty lucky lately. She's avoided trouble for the most part, and actually started to feel okay. It's almost as if all the luck she never got as a kid finally came back around. If only she was in control of it.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Lithe on a good day, scrawny on a bad one; quick-footed and small, but could easily be overpowered in a fight; as her "bad mom" once told her, she could've been so pretty in a different life.
Body Features
Lots of scarring (cuts, burns, abrasions) across her whole body. Some came from punishments in foster care, some from being roughed up on the streets. A few striking scars cross her face and collar, thin cuts from years ago. She doesn't talk about those.
Facial Features
Short brows; eyes that have recently gone cloudy for an unknown reason; prominent scarring; usually some dirt and grease that she tries her best to clean up; a couple dirty teeth; often making a defensive, agitated expression.
Physical quirks
Tight posture, as if she's ready to back away and make a run for it at any moment; one eyebrow that moves more when she's thinking.
Special abilities
Sorcery, obviously; a talented performer and liar.
Apparel & Accessories
Plain white blouse and brown skirt, likely pocketed from a clothesline somewhere; black, dirty boots with holes in them; a couple leather straps where she keeps a small amount of personals; a sling; a locket from her "good mom" for when she's down.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Cecily's life has been a mess. From hopping villages, to living under bar awnings for weeks at a time, to being reprimanded daily in orphanages, to being abused in foster home situations, to stealing daily pay from town guards just to avoid starving in the middle of the night, all along never knowing where she came from, why she exists, or what the point of all this suffering is when it's probably never going to get better...yeah, it's been bad.
To simplify, however, Cecily can recall a few big figures in her life. Amid all the headmasters, guards, rival street rats, and the hundreds of people who have denied her food or shelter throughout the years, she looks back and sees three main influences: her Real Mom, her Good Mom, and her Bad Mom.
Firstly, she has only one memory of her Real Mom, and it's so hazy, it could've just been a dream. Around the time Cecily was 3, her mother held her and told her some bedtime story about an owl. She thinks they were homeless, since she can't remember a bed. But she was happy in that memory. She tears up seeing owls to this day.
Second, her Good Mom. After something happened (she can't recall), Cecily and her Real Mom were separated. She might've died, left, or even never existed, but Cecily was left with no information or mementos from her. Her first real memories are around age 5 in an orphanage. But when she was 7, she was taken into a kind and loving foster home. A young but sickly elf woman named Denyr took her in and raised her alone for five whole years. Those were Cecily's happiest times, and the times where she learned the most about how to be a person.
But before she could teach her too much, she passed away suddenly and without explanation, another horrible mystery in Cecily's life. 12-year-old Cecily found herself homeless for another year, then taken into another foster home after getting into some serious trouble with the local guard. This was her Bad Mom, the one she just ran away from. Cecily hated her from the beginning, but she was in so much trouble, and she was willing to take anything over the streets again. But she shouldn't have. Bad Mom, who's name she won't even say, was a wicked woman. She sought to "fix" Cecily and her lying, pick-pocketing, talk-backing ways by enforcing strict rules and punishments on her.
Cecily wouldn't budge, because she knew from Denyr that she deserved to be treated more tenderly. The punishments only got worse, however, and she gradually began to crack, developing stress problems and spending most nights in tears. One day, it was just too much, and she tried to slap her Bad Mom across the face...only to realize that she was capable of conducting lightning through her fingertips.
Bad Mom lay dead, or at least dying, on the floor, and Cecily was so dumbfounded that she didn't know what else to do but run. The smallest part of her feels bad for what happened, but if anyone deserves that, it was her.
Now, Cecily is hiding from the guards in the nearby city of Summersrest, where she can hopefully blend into the crowds long enough to avoid trouble and figure out what the flying fuck is going on with her body.
Gender Identity
Cis female.
Sexuality
Questioning. She's definitely had embarrassing thoughts about a couple people, but it's never been worth considering too deeply with everything else going on in her life. But when she crushes on someone...it's bad.
Education
Nothing formal. She likes to think she's street smart, but...she's not that, either.
Employment
Nope.
Accomplishments & Achievements
lolololol
Failures & Embarrassments
Everything? She honestly hates herself quite a bit, but wouldn't show that. It's easy to start blaming yourself when so much goes wrong for you.
Mental Trauma
Cecily has two strong forces pulling on her from all her trauma: a desire to be loved, to be held tenderly by a mentor figure and told everything will be okay again, or to become independent and not have to worry about needing people ever again. It's these opposing desires that cause her to mask her troubles, in hopes that everyone will see her as tough and needless, never guessing how much she must be hurting underneath. Being 15, though, she's not great at it.
Intellectual Characteristics
Despite a lack of traditional smarts, she's a very good performer because of her ability to mimic emotions and tell good lies. She also has some natural affinity for the workings of magic, but she still hasn't figured out how to tap into that yet.
Morality & Philosophy
Cecily is Chaotic Neutral, not out of a desire to be reckless, but out of the deep-rooted belief that there's no reason to have loyalty to others anyway. Everyone has either died on her or abused her, so why give anyone the benefit of the doubt? Why open yourself up to hurting again? Her morality, therefore, is defensive. She always looks for a way to benefit herself and never be too vulnerable.
But maybe somewhere along the line, the selfless kindness that Denyr gave her will start to guide her decisions. Maybe the good graces of her new allies will convince her that it's sometimes worth sticking your neck out for someone.
Taboos
VULNERABILITY IS GROSS.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
To form independence and figure herself out with no help from others.
Savvies & Ineptitudes
Good at lying, performing, sneaking, stealing, etc.
Bad at being polite, figuring out logical problems, talking about her feelings, etc.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes pulling off a good plan. REALLY goes wild for fresh bread. Like, she'll melt.
Dislikes anyone objecting to her (isn't that agreeable?), being slowed down, and especially being reminded of her limitations.
Virtues & Personality perks
Down for anything risky if there's a clear reward. Not smart, but crafty (there's a difference).
Vices & Personality flaws
Will be stingy with her things, and can be reckless and inconsiderate when deciding a course of action.
Personality Quirks
Fidgety, guarded, and very gestural when set off.
Hygiene
Not awesome.
Social
Contacts & Relations
Nothing useful.
Family Ties
Wow.
Religious Views
The Gods? Why would I worry about them? Do they have food?
Social Aptitude
No manners whatsoever.
Mannerisms
Lots of swearing and angry gestures; very easy to set off.
Hobbies & Pets
Surviving?
Speech
Whatever the opposite of polite is.
Wealth & Financial state
That's funny.
Foster home/street kid, and a recent runaway. Classic teenage punk, good at lying, stealing, and making the wrong decisions. Has recently unlocked sorcerer powers, but has no clue how to use them. Scared of, but really wants, close bonds with others.
View Character Profile
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Nope.
Date of Birth
8th of Summercourt, 1889.
Birthplace
somewhere near Waterswake
Children
Current Residence
Summersrest
Gender
Female
Eyes
Blue, now cloudy grey
Hair
Fair blonde
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Pale
Height
5' 3"
Weight
100 lbs. (slightly underweight)
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Entry 10
Hey journal. Or Mom. Or me. I don't know anymore. A lot has happened since I last wrote in here. I'm an outlaw now, I think. I guess I already was, but now we all are. We've been out in the woods with guards after us. And there's a rebel group, and I met a goliath woman, and the cult's back. But I haven't felt like I should write any of it.
The first entry feels like a year ago. It's been a really long month and a half. But when I started this journal, I told myself it was to keep track of what was happening to me. Now, I'm realizing that it was just a way to keep from talking to the others. Things are getting really serious. And I think I need to figure out how to talk to them. I don't know how to keep dealing with everything on my own anymore. And this journal is keeping me from doing that. With Darrow, with the cult, with my family, with you.
I don't think I'm going to get answers about who I am anytime soon. I don't know if it matters anymore. So for now, this is it. I'm gonna tuck this journal away, and I'm gonna count on people like Hubert and Keo to tell the story. I have enough to worry about for now. And I need to learn how to talk to them. I didn't think it would help, but after that conversation I had with Po...
I'm gonna miss writing to you, Mom. And I'm sorry if I'm still not the daughter you told me I'd be. But I'm trying. I'm trying really, really hard. I'll still hold your pendant tomorrow, just like I do every year. But after that, I'm gonna have to focus on saving the world again. I didn't really want that to be my job. But it is now. And I'm gonna do everything I can to do it right.
Entry 9
Hey journal. We won the tournament, so we're out of the contract now. But I don't know if it matters. Po left. Dranor left. Now we're leaving. I'm sitting in Bianka's place looking at all the boxes. I just don't feel right. I've always been running away, not leaving like a normal person. And I'm not used to people leaving and coming back. I don't know if they're going to come back.
Oh well. I'm fucking tired of this place. There's rich assholes everywhere, there's all these rules about how you're supposed to eat and talk and sit, and I don't know any of them. And we're on top of an awful fucking farm where people who have never seen the sun make all the money. I don't want it anymore.
Everyone else keeps saying Po's gonna come back. They're not even fucking worried. How do they know? This could be it. We could've just lost him. We should've looked for him. But everyone keeps talking about "the right time" or "having to go for a bit." I guess I don't know what that means.
I turn sixteen in a couple days. Somehow, this has been the longest year of my life. I miss a lot of things. I miss Po. But I don't miss Waterswake, and I don't miss Summersrest. So might as well get out of here.
At least things were simple before the magic showed up. I don't know how much more confusion I can take.
Entry 8
So, when I started writing in here, it was to figure out what was happening to me. Turns out I might not know that for a long time. But I do know a few things.
I met this dude named Master Dranor a while ago, the one who was able to make me 15 again. He's really fucking powerful. I mean, I've never seen him do much, but you can tell when you talk to him. Anyway, he explained a couple things. One, there's some shit called the Weave that I guess is everywhere. It's kinda vague, but there's a saying. The world weaves...no, fuck, I forgot. Oh well, I'll ask him tomorrow. It doesn't matter. The point is, it's almost like there's possibilities surrounding people all the time, and sometimes people are stuck in the weave doing what it wants, and sometimes people are able to push and pull on it without messing everything up. I guess I'm one of those people? Magic happens whenever I move the weave. And bad stuff happens whenever I pull on it too hard. It doesn't really make sense, but now that he explained it that way, I feel like I'm in more control of it. I've learned a few new things too. He says I'm doing really good, not that I know what that means.
So, I'll be practicing with him for a while and probably won't have much to write. We have this tournament festival thing coming up that I should be ready for. I don't want to let anyone down.
Entry 7
Hey Mom. I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm sorry for, really. Maybe not writing to you for a while. I know it's stupid, but it's easier to pretend I'm just journaling for me. But I still think about you when I write anything. Thank you for teaching me how to write.
I don't know why I'm crying. Maybe it's a bit of everything. Maybe it's because they remind me of you. These idiots I'm stuck with always know what to say.
They want me. I don't know. Maybe they're lying. But they want me to stay with them after this contract. They actually want to be together. Like a family. No one has told me that in a long time. No one but you.
I don't think I should let this go. I'm scared. After all the fighting, and death, and awful shit, why am I so scared of caring about someone again? I don't know if I can do it again. But I need to. I have to.
I don't know if I'll ever really find out who my real parents were. But I don't know if it matters. People get stuck with me a lot. But these people are choosing me. I care about people who choose to be together, not people who are stuck with me. And as long as I'm stuck with this magic thing, I guess I should use it to help people.
I'm able to do good things. I didn't know I was, but I am. We've saved so many people. And I can't let that go. That has to mean something.
I hope I'm finally being the daughter you said I'd be. I'm trying really hard. I'm done fucking up. I want to help people. I think of you all the time, Mom. I'll do it for you.
Entry 6
Alright journal, good news. It's been a couple of days because I had to meet tortle, then fight a ghost, THEN lock up some asshole who was in charge of this neighborhood watch group. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I did mean tortle. They're pretty different from turtles. Just learned that yesterday.
BUT, the good news. I might finally, FINALLY, be fucking free. I've only been stuck with these idiots for TEN DAYS, and it's been the LONGEST ten days of my life. But it might be over soon. I guess there's this festival in a few weeks, and a contest thing, and if we win, we can get out of our contract. Then, I can finally start trying to figure out this magic thing without having to worry about jobs, or rich people, or DESMOND, or worrying about Po getting in trouble (not that I care that much), or listening to Ishima say whatever the fuck he says sometimes. I can finally figure out why I need to be here.
I actually might miss them a little. It's not been too bad. Sometimes. And they're not as annoying as I thought they'd be the first day we were stuck together. But I'm sure everyone will be glad to get to their own shit. They won't have to pretend to worry about me anymore.
I think I'm starting to feel the magic more. I know what it feels like when a new spell comes out, or when I go too far and weird shit starts happening. Yeah, need to avoid that from now on. I'm gonna talk to that priest lady again about fixing what happened last time. I can deal with scars, but WRINKLES?
It's about time I finally get out of this, and start looking for answers. I just need to act nice for a bit longer. I can do that...I hope.
Entry 5
Hey journal. Sorry about this morning. So fucking much is happening. So much. I ran off for a few minutes tonight so these idiots wouldn't see me crying. That'd be lame.
We brought the bandit kid back to his dad. He was mean, but I could tell he didn't mean it. He had the same look that Denyr had whenever she got dissapointed in me. It was a hard day. But Ishima (I figured out how to spell it) knew a funeral thing to do. His ashes went back to Illica, or something cool like that. It actually really helped.
They just all seem to know what to say. Ishima, Bianka, Po...maybe not Desmond, but still. Whenever bad things start happening, they just know what to do. I don't. You think I would, since so many bad things have happened to me. I don't know. I just wish I knew how to talk to the bandits. I didn't say a word to them. I might regret that.
I'm really full right now. We ate so much food. I've never been served in a restaurant before, so I guess this job has a lot of ups and downs. Oh, and I'm not blue anymore. Yeah, I almost forgot about that. So much happening, journal.
I still don't know what to say about Captain Darrow. I think I should tell them, but I don't know how. I still don't know how to do a lot of things. I wish I didn't need to rely on these people to know what to do.
Oh well. We might not need to worry about it for a while. Maybe I can just move on from this and not bring it up. I've done that before. Maybe I'll just keep quiet and keep out of trouble from now on. This group doesn't deserve my shit.
Entry 4
I don't know what to write. I fucked up. I kept glancing at the carriage yesterday thinking about the other kids. He just cut him up like it was nothing. That could've been me. I was alone with him. And I trusted him.
I'm so fucking useless. I should've told the group about him. I should've stopped him sooner.
Fuck this place. I'm not getting anywhere. I'm never gonna find my dad. He's probably not even real. I might as well run away and leave these people alone. Running away is all I'm good at anyway.
I don't know what to do. I never know what to do. Everything fucking sucks. I don't know who to trust. And the only people I should've trusted all along, I fucked over. I get why none of them like me. I don't like me, either.
I miss you, Mom. I'm sorry I didn't turn out the way you wanted. I'm sorry I'm letting you down.
Entry 3
Okay journal, now we're getting somewhere.
I'm at that temple right now, the one between Waterswake and Summersrest with the shitty soup. I saw this guy there begging for handouts when he clearly had money. It bothered me, so I wanted to fuck with him. Problem is, I forgot that I'm STILL FUCKING BLUE, so he was able to see through it. But he just...started talking to me? I left the other losers back at the wagon, so I thought I might be in trouble. But he was really calm about everything. He said he's a pirate captain, which I don't know if I believe. But he also said something about another sorcerer in his pirate crew. Something about being struck by lightning and unlocking powers? It sounded familiar. He had a few theories, he even said that people like me might be chosen by a goddess. I don't know. He seemed like he could be full of shit. But maybe...
Anyway, turns out there might be a priest in the temple that can get rid of my blue problem. If this guy's friend turned blue and eventually came out fine, maybe I can, too.
I'll have to remember that I called myself Aravel if I ever see him again. I didn't ask him anything about my parents. He might've known...but I can't risk it. Not with some weird fucker in the woods.
Ugh. Oh well. Back to looking for bandits with the new team. I hope they don't ask me much about this.
Entry 2
Alright, journal. A lot has happened. I could tell you how I'm blue now, but I don't really know anything about that. It kinda just happened, sorta like everything about my magic has just kinda happened. It gets worse every day...or better, I don't know which word fits. I'm fucking scared. No I'm not, I'm just annoyed. I want someone to tell me what's happening right now, but I guess it won't be that easy.
I'm sitting in Bianka's house right now. Turns out I'm stuck with these losers for a while, so I might as well try not to hate them. They're actually not as bad as they could be. I've met A LOT of stupid fucking people in foster homes. But these people are okay. Plus, Isheema (I think that's how you spell it) really laid into Desmond and Po last night. That was fucking funny.
So, no new answers on the sorcerer thing. I still need to follow up on what Bad Mom said about Summersrest. Maybe I'll have time to do that soon. The last few days have been a whirl. I actually just got out of some place called the Undercity. Apparently all the money actually gets made underground, then the rich assholes up here take it? It's pretty fucked up. We met miners who didn't seem to even know any better. I wonder if some of them have even seen sunlight. I guess it really can always be worse. I never believed that when I was sleeping under piles of garbage in the rain. Now I might.
I still haven't told any of them what I'm really trying to do here. I'm gonna keep it that way. It's weird. I have money, and food, and a purpose, and people that say they'll protect me. But I still know I can't trust them. Trusting people never helps anything. If I'm going to figure this out, I have to do it myself.
Entry 1
Hey journal. My name's Cecily. I just took you off a shelf, so if you were meant for something else, too bad. You're gonna hear about me now.
So, I don't know where to start with this. Maybe at the prison? Maybe the banquet? Or the cult? I could start with when Bad Mom adopted me last year. I don't know. I just had the craziest fucking three days of my life, and I think it's just gonna get worse from here.
I guess I can start with the lightning? Yeah. So, adults always ask what happened to my eyes. They're kinda cloudy. I don't know what happened, but I'm starting to think it has something to do with the fucking lighting coming out of my hands. It all just happened one night. The world's favorite cunt, also known as my most recent mom, was doing her usual bullshit. But she told me something different this time. And it just happened. I think she got really hurt. But it was my chance to run, and now I had a new purpose. So fuck it. I ran. I hope she rots. And I hope her precious little rich-bitch party gets ruined because they smell her burning skin.
Fuck. That was dark. I promise I'm not always like this, journal.
So yeah. I ran to Summersrest, because now, I might have a clue who my real parents were. I sorta remember my mom, but I don't know anything about my dad. Maybe this town has some answers. Only problem: I'M STUCK WITH THE WORST GROUP OF PEOPLE I'VE EVER FUCKING MET. How we got stuck? Long story. There's a serial killer, then a cult, then some ugly ass mole rats, then some miners? I don't know, yesterday is all a blur. All I wanted was to GET AWAY from everyone the whole time. But I guess I'm stuck for now.
Anyway, we're mercenaries now. Some guy with Fish in his name made us all his bitch, and now we need to help him fight cultists for a while. We might be stuck in this contract for a while. But whatever. I'm good at running away if that's what it comes down to again. I just need to figure out who I am, and what the fuck's going on with my body. This wasn't in any of the puberty lectures they gave us at the orphanage...sorry jounral, bad joke.
Whatever. I might be dead soon. And just a few days ago, that wouldn't have made a difference to me. But I guess I wanna live now. I have something to figure out. If I do, I'll write it here. And if I don't...you know what happened.
You know, you should feel special, journal. You're gonna hear all about these secrets before the others. God, WHY AM I TALKING TO A JOURNAL? I'm such a loser. Whatever. Bye.
7th of Leaffall, 1905
7th of Leaffall, 1905
Hi journal. I'm Cecily. I stole you from some lady on the trail. I don't know why. Maybe I just need to write about what's happening to me. Have I written anything lately? Do I even remember how to spell?
So, I'm a sorcerer? I can make lightning now. I figured that one out. But the other spells just kinda happen sometimes. I don't know. If I figure anything else out, I'll write it here. Not that anyone cares.
I'm hungry. I might try to play my "dying girl" trick today and get some free food. Hope I don't die.
