|cyclone "cy" kapur. (synergies) wrote,|
@ 2013-05-05 22:15:00
Are you over 17? Oui!
AIM/gtalk/CDJ/ misc. contact info: nefertitis fjord (AIM)
PB: Agam Darshi
Character Journal: synergies
Character Name: Cyclone Kapur.
Nickname(s): “Cy”, almost exclusively. She thinks Cyclone sounds idiotic.
Age and Birthday:
Guild: Mages Guild.
Job Class: Scholar (13) → Synergist (18). Assistant to Cormac Hier.
Weapon: A staff. It has no name, no history; it’s just a carved piece of wood she purchased from an equipment store.
Personality: When Cyclone was young, she was earnest: she tried hard, studied harder, and was an over-archiever and stellar student immersed in magical theory. Since then, she’s emerged from the Mages Tower as a consummate professional, crisp and polite with the coldness that comes from efficiency. She’s the brisk synergist striding into the room, taking your pulse and checking your vital signs before doling out the status enhancements. Bossiness has always been her ultimate flaw, and she tends to snap out orders to people thrice the size of her so long as it has something to do with their health.
She’s essentially a mother hen in a tiny body, fussing and clucking over others – thanks to a lifetime of looking after a flotilla of younger cousins, Cy tends to be protective of other people. Her bedside manner is not the best, however: she thinks of people and things in terms of utility, logic and rationality. She’s the typical scientific mage, unemotional and detached; the woman has difficulty letting herself be ruled by the heart and emotions, instead striving to operate by what’s most sensible. She prides herself intensely on her skills and status, and burying herself in her work and synergy and augmentation has always been one of her coping mechanisms. Why deal with the messiness of, say, a romantic life when she has potions and spells to tinker with instead?
Of course, efficacy does not mean that Cyclone is level-headed. Her name, much as she despises it, is accurate: whenever her last straw finally snaps, she tends to flip into high gear. She will shout, she will scream, she will stomp her foot, because Cy is still just a twenty-something rather than a weathered and grizzled mage, as much as she likes to think of herself as such. As things stand, she’s a hypercompetent sidekick to the genius that is Cormac; she’s a steely, bitchy, no-nonsense mage bustling around and keeping all the gears moving. Cy uses her abilities to boost her boss and get him out of bed in the morning, lacing his coffee with status enhancements – she’s part filthy minion, part Pepper Potts, comfortable coasting along in the background and letting others take the spotlight while she gives them a leg up. Cy has been trained well, taught to think of herself as a supporting arm, as the cane upon which society leans. Medicine and augmentation is a necessary component of any successful battle and she knows this, which means working closely with the Fighters Guild. Cy studied hard, immersing herself in theory before heaving herself into the practicalities; before her assignment with Cormac, she tended to contract with travelling bands of fighters leaving Emillion.
The girl has a need to be needed, however. If she feels like people aren’t depending on her, she starts thinking she’s worn out her usefulness – part of Cy’s choice of profession was for that sensation of being indispensible, a required part of society. A possibly selfish reason to go into white magic, perhaps, but there you have it. And more than that, she’s entirely comfortable being the lifeline on which Cormac depends.
Appearance: Cyclone Kapur is a lanky, scrawny young Ordalian woman with dark black hair, piercing eyes, and a beakish nose. She tends to wear a lot of jewellery in the form of earrings, necklaces, and wrist bangles – all augmented, of course – but she goes otherwise unadorned. Cy is pretty, but tends to hide it as much as possible; dolling herself up in dresses ranks lower on her list of priorities than dressing simply and pragmatically, after all. She tends to wear trousers, tank tops, and all black, and occasionally a favourite leather jacket that sits a bit too loosely on her narrow shoulders. She projects a tough and capable exterior and the crisp demeanour of a secretary, and it’s hard to tell if it’s surprising or wholly unsurprising that she happens to be a mage (and a synergist, at that).
History: So you know how every Kapur has been a part of the Fighters Guild?
Yeah, about that. Every family tree has the occasional branch lopped off – where Gale Kapur is the meteoric black sheep, Cyclone Kapur’s immediate family is an entire wayward flock that wandered off generations back and has been mostly forgotten since. They’re seen at the occasional family function or reunion, coughing and shuffling their feet awkwardly in a crowd of warriors and knights, making polite conversation by the beverage table, but they’re not closely affiliated with the better-known Kapurs – Cy has never lived in the Taj estate, for example, despite being in Emillion for the past decade. And she goes by ‘Cy’ rather than the more telling ‘Cyclone’ and doesn’t fling her surname around like currency. Her family are the poorer cousins, the distant offshoot living in the margins of history. Where most of the Kapurs are priviliged elite, this branch is the humdrum middle-class (the Matthew Crawley to the aristocratic Lord Crawley, if you will!).
Thunder Kapur and his wife Rashmi comprised a family of scatterbrained mages living in Ordalia, far from Pharist influence and steeped in their own people’s religion – one of hot burning sands, heroes with scimitars, many-armed deities, and the lurking threat of Angra Mainyu, rather than Faram and all his saints. The larger branches of the Kapur family went into the Fighters Guild, but this little twig made and sold Bomb Fragments, Dragon Fangs, Antarctic and Arctic Winds, Dragon and Fish Scales, Gaia Drums, Gold Needles, Marlboro Vines, Mute Masks, Vampire Fangs, Zeus' Wraths, etc (in short: status-effecting and offensive items).
They lived on the same block as a veritable tribe of Rashmi’s family and only had the one daughter, Cyclone (a token tip of the hat to the Kapur naming conventions), but Cy was rolling in enough cousins that her family always seemed large, bustling, and affectionate. She thought of her mother’s extended family as her own, and rarely questioned the fact that Thunder had no brothers or sisters to contribute to the pot. And the familial expectation, largely from Rashmi’s side, was always that Cyclone would go into white magic—medicine, in short, and would become a doctor for them to be proud of.
So the girl was clever, earnest, and trying desperately to stand out in a crowd of other bright children. She looked after her cousins and even, to an extent, looked after her parents, helping manage the front of the shop from an incredibly young age. Cyclone Kapur was like a tiny adult in child form and they treated her as such, giving the girl respect and responsibilities from an early age (possibly too many responsibilities, but there you have it).
Throughout her childhood, there was the occasional awkward gettogether with other Kapurs, and it was obvious that they didn’t fit in. Cy was scrawny and skinny where her fellow girls were tall, rangy Amazons who liked sparring with wooden swords more than nosing through books. After a particularly embarrassing incident in which Cy lost a roughhousing match, then threw a fit and set another girl’s dress on fire, the invitations to reunions started to taper off until they saw the Valendian Kapurs more and more rarely. (She wasn’t even aware of her cousin nth removed, Gale, going through similar struggles.)
When Cy turned thirteen, her little family sent her off to Emillion so she could begin training as a Scholar; there was a Mages Guild in Ordalia, but they knew that Emillion was the Place To Be if they wanted to give their daughter the most opportunities. The girl went through the rigorous tests, but she’d been practicing magic and studying from a young age (harsh Ordalian parental pressure had taken its toll), and so passed with flying colours.
The next five years were harder than she’d expected. She had dreamt of the Mages Tower, but hadn’t considered just how fucking difficult the work was. But the consummate workaholic and overachiever bent herself towards it, studying away with the occasional visit home to Ordalia. When she was eighteen, she transitioned into synergy and moved up to the sixth floor. She could’ve gone into any specialisation and her parents would have been pleased, but magical enhancements were where her interest lay. Cy also knew that theory had to be put into practice, so she started venturing out of the Tower (she was also desperate to see the outside world) and travelling with fighters who needed magical support. The groups always retained a separate white mage to go with them, considering Cy focused solely on synergy and status enhancements.
The field trips, practical applications of what the Guild had taught her, continued sporadically for the next three years as she continued studying. Cy also started attending the University of St. Iocus as a graduate student, smothering her own foreign religion and keeping a tight rein on it inside the Pharist institution. Her neurotic competence (rather than her magic, as such) eventually stood out and one of her favourite professors from the Mages Guild tapped her for a rather, ahem, special job. The interview wasn’t traditional at all; it was for a personal assistant, the professor said, but she wasn’t allowed to meet her prospective employer unless she said yes.
Ever ambitious and curious, Cyclone said yes.
Her first day with Cormac Hier was a nightmare.
But long story short, she ploughed through working for the mage. The young woman forcibly moved in with Cormac, oozing into the cracks and spaces of the chemist’s life, carving out a position for herself. Looking after a man much older than her, playing nursemaid and helpmeet, personal assistant and secretary and babysitter all, had her family horrified – her parents were concerned over how inappropriate it might be, having their daughter living with this shambolic mess of a man. But Cy isn’t as staid and conservative as Thunder and Rashmi; she has absolutely zero compunctions over literally scrubbing Cormac down in the tub (she thinks of it like hosing down a dog) or chartering a whore for him without asking and sending the woman to his room. It’s professional to her; it’s like a physician prescribing a tonic. The wreck of a genius presents an intriguing challenge to her every single day, which she finds rewarding and endlessly thrilling.
The man lashes back, of course, but they’ve fallen into a comfortable rhythm of verbal abuse and orders and bossiness and dependency. Cy gives as good as she gets, and the position has turned out to be incredibly good for her. Cormac was wallowing (for reasons she hasn’t yet learned, though she’s been piecing together some suspicions), and so the Mages Guild sent an indelicate hand to wrest him out of his stupor and shove him back to his feet with a few sharp, shrill words. Which she did, and gladly. Forcing direction into her boss’s life helps her contribute order and meaning to her own. Every waking moment is spent wrangling together the mess that is Cormac, keeping him on track like an errant drunken mad brilliant two-year-old, soiled clothes and all. And in the meantime, she gets to use his lab and pick his brain and learn from his notes. It seems she was born for this.
Skills and abilities: Since Cyclone can’t heal or cause offensive damage by herself, instead she has a very wide net of synergist magic to cast on other people.
Writing Samples: (With apologies to Jan for godmodding her character! xx)