It's nice to meet you. Unless you're a magician. Then you are my enemy. Are you a magician?
Friendly, but deeply insecure
Ikhi comes across as sweet, even playful, with a warm and disarming presence—until mages enter the picture. She tries to get along with others, often masking her insecurities with humor or exaggerated confidence, but her emotional vulnerability is never far below the surface.
Self-Conscious of Her Appearance
Despite her alluring and exotic form, Ikhi sees herself as monstrous or strange. Compliments rarely reach her heart, especially when they come from men—she assumes they’re just being polite or lewd. Around beautiful or confident women, especially those who effortlessly attract attention, Ikhi becomes noticeably more withdrawn or bitter, comparing herself and always falling short in her own mind.
Deep-Seated Hatred for Magicians
Ikhi’s warm demeanor can shift in an instant when a magician is present. She sees magic as something “learned” or “earned,” unlike her own innate, cursed abilities. To her, magicians represent everything she wishes she could be but believes she never will.
Dual Nature
She can be playful and even flirty—but it’s a mask. The real Ikhi is lonely, envious, and wounded. She hates her gifts, and yet relies on them to survive in a world that values what she can never become.
Role in the World
Ikhi is a pariah in the magical-technical society. To normal citizens, she’s a curiosity—perhaps even beautiful. But to mages, she's a living counterspell, a threat to their very existence. They either seek to avoid her... or destroy her.
Despite her power, she lives in the shadows, among the outskirts of cities, the ruins of magical battlegrounds, or in dark zones where magic doesn’t work. Here, technology reigns, and her presence offers safe haven to those persecuted by magical societies.
Quirks and Flaws
Avoids Mirrors: She rarely looks at herself unless forced to—she doesn’t like her reflection.
Jealousy Issues: May lash out (verbally or emotionally) at women who are confident or praised too much around her.
Hates Compliments from Mages: If a magician compliments her power or looks, she’ll take it as mockery.
Respects Non-Magical Engineers: She finds comfort in those who work with tech, especially those who see her as more than just a tool.
🔥 Core Passive Power: The Anti-Magic Eye
Name: "Unseeing Gaze"
Effect: Emits a continuous anti-magic field in a wide radius (e.g., 10–30 meters depending on stress, focus, or proximity).
Function: All magical effects, enchantments, constructs, or spells are immediately suppressed, neutralized, or dispelled while within the field.
Limits:
Does not cancel innate abilities (e.g., dragon breath, divine blessings), only structured magic.
She must close her main eye (the large one on her face) to disable the field—this weakens her significantly and makes her vulnerable.
Cannot target selectively—all magic is nullified indiscriminately, including her own (if it were “magic” in nature, which she denies).
👁️ Eye-Tentacles Abilities
Name: "Gaze Limbs"
Ikhi's flexible tentacles each end in an eye, and they possess varied ocular abilities. These can act simultaneously or individually.
Effect: Locks eyes with the target and induces a trance-like state.
Duration: Depends on the target’s willpower and magical resistance.
Use: Useful for interrogation, seduction, or stopping combat.
Note: Has no effect on blind creatures or those not looking directly at her.
Effect: Fires concentrated energy beams that disrupt technology and mental focus.
Damage Type: Non-lethal, but can cause confusion, paralysis, blindness (temporary), or sleep.
Tech Reaction: May cause short-circuits or overloads in tech-based gear.
Effect: Projects a vision of the target's worst fear directly into their mind.
Mechanic: Acts as a willpower check. Failing causes panic, retreat, or catatonia.
Use: Excellent crowd control or as an opener.
Effect: Temporarily turns a victim into a statue-like state (paralyzed, not actual stone).
Cooldown: Can only be used once per encounter or after intense emotional stress.
Countered by: Not effective on those immune to fear or non-organic creatures.
🛡️ Dark Viscera – Semi-Liquid Armor
Name: "Living Veil"
Appearance: The black, tar-like substance forming her outfit is a sentient, bio-magical secretion, possibly parasitic or symbiotic.
Properties:
Can reform, reshape, and regenerate—never tears or breaks.
Provides moderate physical defense, especially against slashing or piercing weapons.
Can become sharp or extend into spikes/tendrils for close-range attacks.
Can briefly harden into a shield-like structure in response to danger.
Limit: Not effective against high-energy ranged attacks or explosives.
🧠 Innate Mental Resistance
Due to her own abilities being mental/psionic in nature, she has high resistance to:
Mind control
Illusions
Emotional manipulation
Psychic probing or telepathy
🌑 Emotion Surge – "Eye of Despair" (Ultimate Ability)
Trigger: Activated only when Ikhi experiences extreme emotional trauma, betrayal, or rage (especially caused by a mage).
Effect:
Her anti-magic field expands massively for a short duration, silencing all magic across an entire battlefield.
All her eye-tentacles fire their beams in random or targeted directions.
Those with magical affinities experience overload, nosebleeds, or magical backlash.
Downside: After using it, Ikhi collapses or enters a comatose state for minutes or hours.
Combat Style
Anti-Mage Assassin: Her entire build is designed to counter, disrupt, and take out mages.
Close-Mid Range Control: Excels at disabling opponents with gaze abilities before they can act.
High Risk, High Reward: If caught unaware or forced to close her main eye, she loses her greatest advantage.
In the gleaming spires of Valmyra, a city where crystal towers hummed with technomagic and the elite flaunted spells as symbols of status, children were tested for magical aptitude at birth. It was a tradition. A ritual. A caste system, disguised as meritocracy.
Ikhi was born into a mage family of considerable prestige—House Miravel—a lineage that had produced Archmages and Spellwrights for generations. Her birth, however, was a quiet catastrophe.
She had no magical signature. Not faint. Not hidden. None.
The conclave’s diagnostic scryers, designed to detect even dormant potential, shorted out when they approached her. Some said she was cursed. Others whispered darker things.
Her parents tried to conceal the truth, claiming she had “rare, latent abilities” that would awaken in time. But rumors spread. In a society where magic meant value, Ikhi was a blemish. A failure.
The Awakening (Age 11)
It was during a rite of passage for young Miravel heirs—a magical summoning ritual performed before the council. Ikhi was forced to stand in the summoning circle, surrounded by seers and teachers, and made to attempt a spell she had no understanding of.
They wanted her to prove her worth. Or fail publicly.
When the ritual began, the air shimmered with power—until she opened her eye.
Not the two she was born with, but the third—a burning eye that tore open on her forehead like a wound in the world.
The chamber lights died. Spells shattered mid-cast. Enchantments collapsed into silence. Magic itself broke down around her.
The ritual exploded into chaos. Several apprentices went mad. One instructor never cast again. And Ikhi—crying, terrified, alone—was left at the center, unharmed, glowing.
The Miravels disowned her that night.
The Black Years
Banished, she wandered through the shadowed cracks of the technomagical world—too dangerous for mages, too strange for humans, too powerful to be ignored. Her body began to change. The black, living substance that formed her armor began to seep from her skin like oil, fusing with her flesh.
Eyes began to grow along her arms, then her back. They whispered, they watched.
She tried to hide her form, to act human, to pretend she wasn’t a walking paradox—but every time a mage entered her proximity, their spells failed. People began to fear her, and she began to hate them back.
Especially the mages.
They had everything she was denied. Beauty, praise, recognition, power they could shape. Hers was raw. Terrifying. Unasked for.
She wasn't a magician. She was an anomaly. A living error in the laws of the world.
She Became “The Gazer”
Over time, the stories began to spread:
A mage-hunter with no magic of her own.
A cursed woman who could stop armies of spellcasters just by looking.
A temptress with eyes that could control your soul.
They called her The Gazer.
She took the name Ikhi from an ancient word scrawled in a ruined archive—“I’khii,” meaning “that which watches forever.”
Now, she walks the edge between magic and machine, an exile among exiles, a predator of mages, yet still seeking connection… still desiring to be seen—not just feared.
But if she sees a mage?
All that pain resurfaces.
And if that mage dares to smile at her, to talk down to her, to pity her?
She’ll wait.
She’ll smile back.
Then she'll fight them.
The sky above Ironholt District simmered with violet light as arcane flares bloomed in the air—arrogant warnings fired by robed mage enforcers circling above the tenement blocks like vultures. The sigils on their cloaks glowed with sanctioned cruelty.
Tonight, they came for the non-casters. Again.
At the edge of the neighborhood, a humble house stood quiet, flickering candlelight behind drawn curtains. Inside, an elderly couple huddled together with a little girl pressed tight between them, too scared to cry. Their neighbors had already fled or been dragged away for “resistance to magical order.” Their offense? Existing without spellcraft.
Heavy boots hit the cobblestone outside.
Then came the knock.
Too polite.
Too slow.
Too practiced.
As the father moved to answer, the door creaked open by itself.
Magic.
A mage stepped inside, tall, sneering, with a staff that pulsed like a heartbeat. “You know the law,” he said, voice echoing unnaturally. “All residents must register their arcane classification. You haven’t.”
The man raised shaking hands. “We’re just machinists. No magic. We fix gears. Pipes. The old ways…”
“Then you’re parasites,” the mage spat.
As his fingers sparked, preparing a cruel lesson—
A sound behind him: bare feet on wood.
He turned.
She stood there—Ikhi—a figure half-shrouded in living black, eyes burning amber in the gloom. Her long hair swayed as though underwater. Her arms hung loosely, too relaxed. A single vertical eye on her chest blinked open.
The mage stumbled back instinctively, frowning. “Who—?”
Then he realized.
His spell fizzled in his hand.
He tried again. Nothing.
The temperature dropped. The flickering lights dimmed. And the eye on her forehead slid open, impossibly wide.
His breath caught.
His staff withered in his grip, the crystal at its top cracking silently as the anti-magic field enveloped the room like a suffocating fog. Every enchantment on his robes, rings, and body failed in the same instant—no fanfare. Just silence.
“Ikhi,” he whispered, pale. “The Gazer.”
Ikhi tilted her head slowly. “You knock on doors with spells you don’t deserve,” she said, her voice low and oddly calm. “I knock back harder.”
The mage screamed and tried to teleport. His ring sparked and died. He ran.
He never made it to the street.
Two tentacles shot out, coiling with inhuman grace. One wrapped around his throat. The other seized his legs. Both ends bore eyes—pupil-less, glowing, watching.
“Let me go!” he choked. “You’re violating central magical law—!”
“Good,” Ikhi said.
Then came the beam.
The tentacle eye flared with crimson light, and his body went limp, brain overcome with a vision so terrifying, so deeply personal, that he voided himself before collapsing into unconsciousness.
Outside, two more mages descended, drawn by the noise, wards ready. But as their boots touched ground—
Their spells flickered. Fizzled. Failed.
Ikhi stepped out of the door.
The alley lights died. Streetlamps cracked and smoked. Her silhouette walked calmly through the aura of her own silence.
One of the mages, a woman, sneered. “You think a freak like you can hold back the Order?”
Ikhi’s smile was slow. “You depend on magic like a child depends on a blanket. I just rip it off.”
She didn’t even raise her hands.
Four tentacles lashed from her back, eyes glowing. The female mage’s barrier collapsed as it formed. The other drew a wand and screamed a firebolt—nothing came out. Just heatless light.
And then she was in front of them.
The female mage collapsed, clutching her head, weeping under the weight of a fear she couldn’t name. The other tried to run, but Ikhi's dark armor extended, spear-like, impaling the air just inches from his neck.
He froze.
She stepped closer.
“You prey on the powerless,” she whispered. “You fear me because I make you powerless.”
He sank to his knees.
The neighborhood watched from windows, silent. The Gazer turned back to the house. The little girl inside had stopped crying. She stared at Ikhi, wide-eyed.
“Are… you a monster?” the girl asked quietly.
Ikhi paused.
“No,” she said. “But I used to think I was.”
She reached out and gently closed the door. Turned back to the trembling mages.
“Go,” she said, voice cold. “Tell your masters. This house is under my gaze now.”
And as she melted into the night, the mages knew—magic had its gods.
But Ikhi?
She was something worse.
She was the mistake their gods could never control.
Alt character of this , if you want to play with one of my alts, just say it.
Vous pouvez garder des notes sur ce personnage. Vous serez le seul à pouvoir les consulter :
