<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/92/f3/cc/92f3cc2acd5c38d9840ee9cc291cdc72.jpg)</div><br/><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Tym Hellebore</span></span></em><br/>Female Changeling Mesmerist/Summoner 1 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=291897.msg14342171#msg14342171)<br/>HP: 9 | AC: 14 | Init: +2 | Status: Fatigued<br/>Location: Southern Women's Cell<br/>Tagging: Salvadore, Mr. Goran<strong>GM NPC</strong>| Open<br/><hr/><br/>Tym had been in this hellhole for... four? Five years? She had honestly lost track, it's not as if they had calenders. For the first year she had considered chewing her own wrists out. She never could quite work up the courage to do so - that and the soft voice of her sister in the back of her head urging her not to. The second year, she discovered what passed for 'sport" among the guards and inmates... After the second brutish littledick went mad after a night with her, most set their sights on women who were a little taller, a little less...<em>whatever she was</em>. Even with the drugs slipped into her food to keep her mind fuzzy and disconnected, she had an aura of weirdness to her. The last few months, she had been spending more time exploring dreams, leading to a leaner belly and a clearer mind, if nothing else.<br/><br/>The horns outside the prison and the yells and cries from within drew Tym out of such a sopiforic sojourn. She rolled out of her tattered pallet in the corner of the southern women's sell, and wobbled blearily to the bars. She pressed her face against the cold, rough iron and peered out. "Have they come, finally?" her voice was high-pitched, even thick with sleep, but far from grating or sharp. She shook her head to dash the cobwebs from it, and caught sight of Salvadore leaving his cell. Her big yellow eyes grew wide. "Pssst! Tall one! Free me too!" she tried to shake the bars, which accomplished nothing, but apparently her imploring look and pleading eyes were enough to get the shadowy man to toss the key towards her.<br/><br/>...Only for<strong>Mister Goran</strong>to notice and scoop it up before she could dive and reach through the bars for it. Tym's brows pulled together in consternation. Had she heard something about killing inmates? She turned those eyes up to<strong>Mr. Goran</strong>. Big eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, the tawny yellow color of a fine topaz. The webs of sleep fell away from her, and she saw<em>into</em>the man, saw the skeins of thought and emotion hiding inside his skull... through the eyes, she pressed her will into him, overwhelming his feeble control over his own desires.<br/><br/><strong>"<em>Mister Goran</em>,"</strong>she chided in a coquettish voice, clicking her tongue softly and gracing the man with a smile,<strong>"That's <em>my</em> key, and I'll thank you much to return it..."</strong>She felt the fluttering of the man's free will against her mind, and her pink tongue brushed her lips. She loved the feeling of another's failure.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Swift Action:</strong>Hypnotic Stare on Mister Goran. This imposes a -2 penalty on his will saves so long as she maintains it.<br/><strong>Standard action:</strong>Casting<em>Charm Person</em>as a spontaneous psychic spell on Mister Goran; the save is<strong>Will, DC 16</strong>