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Friendly, soft-spoken, and unforgivably nerdy, Melinda Pearce is a well-known fixture in her local library. Often buried in one book or another or scrolling on a screen - she prefers the typing speed of a keyboard to phones, you know – she's almost always buried in this or that sort of research, keeping notes on a combination of text files and a sketchpad. And all too eager to talk about their contents. Research subjects are something she has in ample stock; as a bookworm, hacker, author, and aspiring piano player, her notes are often hard to decipher to someone looking over her shoulder, switching freely between syntaxes in a way that must make sense, even if to her alone. Her explanations seem to flow easily enough, even if the listener ends up more lost than when they started... but, well. That's probably for the best, anyway. It wasn't a seamless transition, exactly. She'd just happened to start with the right set of interests with just the right amount of free time to explore them; been born at the right time in history, with just the personality that led to this. Drawn to the occult from a young age, she'd often 'researched' elder gods, demons, aliens, interdimensional beings, and all kinds of fanciful fictions. At first it was the kind of interest that could be played off as quirkiness still within the common sphere. Then she started finding connections. Paths. Maps. The whole thing was a tapestry of half-remembered, less-understood encounters throughout history between the space of reality and dreams. Inconsistencies abounded, viewed through a rational, logical lens. But someone wanting to believe, armed with a specific viewpoint... well, it was a few years ago now that she'd definitely crossed over into uncharted territory. Most who had managed the feat had gone insane before they could tell of it. And here she is, proudly and cheerfully expositing her findings to anyone interested. Seems fine for now...? |
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Scarlet Trueshade, the conqueror of worlds, summoner of shadows, destructress incarnate. With the demons of Hell wrapped around her little finger, that leaves room for plenty of other realms on the other fingers. Why she deigns to come to the mortal plane is a mystery few know the answer to; too busy fleeing, one would wager. Not that it does any good. Indeed, considering her dimension-throttling dark powers, it's hard to know why she would bother with this place at all, much less take interest in who she does on such a personal level. And yet should someone have the rotten luck to catch her eye, they might learn the answer all too well... or not. The only guarantee is a *very* bad time. There have been people she's let go, of course. In a sense, anyway; what they experience, first-hand or second-, tends to remain seared into their souls forever after. Shadows coming to life off the walls or from the air, gravity upheaving, even geometry itself ceasing to follow its own laws should she will it. An asserted truth that their reality, all reality, is in the palm of her hand to control. One would be forgiven for forever looking over their shoulder after an encounter with the hellborne mephit. As for those not so lucky as to be granted leave? A certain merciful commonality; each and every one is still around, kept by her somewhere in some form. A pocket dimension, the gate to such existing in physical reality only when she wills it. Trapped in jewelry adorning her body. Folded into a form more convenient for her needs; clothing, accessories, furniture – or unfolded, their very information floating uncompressed handily nearby in the ether. And of course, more than a few have disappeared forever into her own body, leaving no trace whatsoever. The fate that awaits them inside is left to the imagination, and it's certainly been the cause of nightmares in many of her witnesses. With the kind of power she's shown to wield, taking over the world seems like it should be child's play. Maybe she already has...? |
It was a few years ago that Melinda made her first deal with the devil. At least, he agreed to be called the devil; even with her pronounced interest in his world, his real name stayed far out of the reach of her mortal tongue. It had a ring to it, he said. Liked the ambience. And it suited him well; he was asking for the meager price of her soul in exchange for the demonic magic that would make her a worthy soldier in his legion. It was a good deal, he claimed; holding on to her soul would just make her suffer when she had to act on his commands. Better to cast it aside now and unfetter herself. Maybe it wasn't the smoothest move, but she'd always been the type to be cautious, tie up loose ends, make sure she wasn't locking herself out of anything before she saved her game in a new area. It definitely shouldn't have worked. And at least in her own research, nobody had ever tried it before. She agreed to a rain check. It was a good deal, she said. More than acceptable terms, something she'd act on the second she'd taken care of unfinished responsibilities. But after all, she still had her soul for the moment; she couldn't very well act as if she already didn't. Maybe it was because the mortal perception of 'the devil' is informed more by fears and suspicion than firsthand encounters, or maybe it was that he knew he had her locked in and time was no factor at all to him. He agreed. She hit the books harder than ever before when she returned from his dark dimension. It was *real* now. She had a few leads already, nothing concrete, but now this and that story became this and that path, these legends became these accounts, these songs became these keys. Cracking open a portal in thin air to another realm, resonating with the very idea of a particular elder god until the two could communicate, and in one case even building the interface of an extradimensional being's mind in computer code, she worked night and day, hardly resting, never stopping, wheeling and dealing with forces beyond her control, until in a single synchronized conflagration... Scarlet Trueshade was born. She'd set up her bargains to trigger simultaneously while remaining unheeded in her actions, a mere mortal's designs beneath the notice of godly beings, granting her inconceivable powers at the cost of her soul... several times over, putting her in a tremendous debt. She owed all of herself to beings still so far beyond her ken she could hardly perceive them except as concepts. Gained such control of reality only to lose control of everything else. And she'd won, in the end. One thing about god-types she'd come to understand from the stories is that, much like mortals, they knew a good deal when they saw one. Untold arcanum in exchange for a soul? Net gain of one soul for them. Collecting on a debt owed to another deity? The only risk beings of their class could possibly take. In her home realm of the mortal world, she had become unparalleled – the only threats left to her held each other in check. Her gambit had worked... and it was only now she realized she'd run ahead of herself, pulling it off just to see if she could. It left her unsure just what to do with herself, and so she soon fell into old hobbies and habits. Though now her research took her even stranger places, and her creative works tread new ground that seems to fly over the heads of its audience. It's enough to make even a demon skunk a little frustrated. |
 Indeed, one of those FurriesEverywhere |
