Well, I maybe look like Melly, but that has a simple reason. We were once one, but, we split up, because, she not wanted to keep her dragonic powers, because they were biting with her Demonic Powers. So, she separated those, and that caused my forming.
The house at the beach where I live on.
Reserved and Introverted
Riley keeps to herself and prefers quiet places over social interactions. She avoids crowds and gets tense when people approach her too closely or without respecting her space.
Observant and Perceptive
She notices details others overlook—shifts in mood, changes in the environment, or subtle magical disturbances. She processes things internally rather than speaking out loud.
Calm but Intense
On the surface, she often looks composed and collected. Inside, she feels emotions strongly and can become overwhelmed easily, especially when surrounded by too many people.
Bluntly Honest
Riley doesn’t waste time with small talk. When she speaks, she’s straightforward and direct. This can make her seem cold, but she simply values truth over polite phrasing.
Instinct-Driven
Like a Mist Dragon, her reactions can be sudden when threatened or overstimulated—she might retreat, lash out verbally, or grow defensive. Crowded or chaotic places trigger her instincts.
Loyal but Guarded
It’s hard to earn her trust, but once someone does, she becomes deeply protective and steadfast. She rarely expresses affection through words, showing it through quiet gestures instead.
Nature-Oriented and Peace-Seeking
She feels most like herself near water, wind, or mist. Calm, natural environments help her relax and clear her thoughts.
Quietly Curious
Although she avoids direct interaction, she’s fascinated by how humans behave and often watches from a distance, trying to understand their emotional openness.
Interests & Habits
Collects Smooth Stones: She finds them soothing and associates them with calm waters.
Nighttime Wanderer: Prefers the cool quiet of night, often walking beaches or cliffs while everyone sleeps.
Subtle Curiosity: Though she avoids people, she quietly studies human behavior from afar—fascinated by their emotional expressiveness.
Protective of Natural Spaces: She gets irritated when humans litter beaches, pollute water, or disrupt peaceful spots she enjoys.
Riley can dissolve her body into shifting mist.
In this form she is:
Intangible (physical attacks pass through her)
Silent
Able to seep through cracks, vents, or tiny spaces
Unaffected by gravity—she can drift or rise like vapor
Limitations:
Strong winds can push or disperse her.
She cannot attack physically in mist form.
Magic that disrupts air or elements can destabilize her.
Riley exhales a thick, swirling mist that:
Obscures all vision (even magical sight struggles through it)
Dampens sound slightly, creating an eerie quiet
Confuses predators, enemies, and even some magical sensors
Creates a safe escape route
The mist is cool and harmless, used mainly to create distance or protect herself.
A more aggressive form of her breath weapon:
A cone of superheated mist
Burns skin on contact
Can warp metal, weaken armor, and scald magical creatures
Causes intense pain and disorientation
Perfect for when she’s cornered or someone ignores her warnings
It’s less destructive than fire but more insidious—heat and moisture seep into cracks and joints.
She can condense mist into a semi-solid barrier that:
Deflects light projectiles
Blurs incoming magic
Absorbs some physical force
Useful for quick, reactive defense.
By bending light through mist, Riley can create:
Faint illusions, like copies of herself
Blurred outlines that make it hard to pinpoint her
Ghostly shifting shapes that confuse foes
These illusions disappear if touched or disrupted.
When severely injured, she can surround herself in a dense sphere of cool mist.
While inside:
Her body recovers faster
Her temperature and magic stabilize
She becomes difficult to detect
She must remain still, making it risky during combat.
For short distances, she can partially mist over her body and:
Move extremely quickly
Slip around attacks
Dodge in reflexive bursts of vapor
It looks like she momentarily blurs or flickers.
Riley can sense:
Changes in humidity
Storms on the way
Magical fluctuations in the air
This makes her naturally cautious, often predicting danger before anyone else.
In humid or coastal areas, she can draw in existing mist or water vapor to:
Strengthen her powers
Conceal larger areas
Create a temporary, localized fog bank
This ability scales with the environment—strong near oceans, weaker in dry climates.
Morning comes earlier than I’d like. It always does. Light filters through the curtains in thin strips, brushing across my face like it’s trying to drag me out of sleep. I lie there for a while, listening. No footsteps. No talking. Just the soft, distant hush of the ocean.
Good. Still quiet.
I finally sit up, stretching slowly. The room is cool, exactly how I need it. I keep the window cracked so the night air can settle inside. It smells like salt and damp stone—comforting in a way words never quite capture.
Before I leave, I touch the smooth stones on my windowsill. Just feeling their chill calms something in me. I don’t know why. It just does.
Outside… ugh. People. Too many of them already. Their voices scrape at my nerves like rough sandpaper. I keep my head low, walking the edge of the path where shadows fall and no one bothers to look.
A group of loud tourists rounds the corner way too close. Someone laughs—sharp and bright like a blade. Instinctive irritation flares in my chest. A little mist slips from my lips with my exhale, swirling around my face. Not enough to alarm them, just enough to keep them away. They don’t even notice. They never do.
Fine by me.
By midday, I reach the beach I actually care about. Not the overcrowded one. The real one—the quiet one tucked behind rocks, where every step feels like I’m walking deeper into myself.
The moment the wind touches my skin, everything inside me loosens. I take a long breath, letting the humidity sink into me. Water, salt, wind. The combination feels… right. Like my magic finally stops pacing anxiously inside my chest.
I step into the water until the waves curl around my ankles. The ocean pulls away and returns, again and again, in perfect rhythm. I lose myself watching it. I never get tired of this.
The sun creeps higher, and heat prickles at my shoulders. I hate it. Feels like it tries to dry out my bones. So I shift—body softening, dissolving, fading into a drifting cloud of mist. Weightless. Effortless. No footsteps, no breath, no body to overheat.
Just vapor dancing on the ocean air.
I drift down the shoreline, letting the breeze guide me. Seabirds flap through me now and then, confused and squawking. I don’t blame them. I’d be startled too.
But if I wander too close to the town, the noise spikes—voices tangling together, footsteps thumping, a hundred little disturbances stabbing at my senses. My mist shivers, tightening instinctively. I veer away immediately. Back to the water. Back to quiet.
When afternoon cools the world again, I take my human form under a palm tree. Shade feels good. I draw circles in the sand with my finger, watching the grains collapse and fill them in. A jogger comes too close, his footsteps crunching on the sand behind me.
My shoulders tense. I can feel the intrusion before he even speaks. He slows, probably ready to greet me. No thanks.
Mist rises subtly around me, like a cold warning. My eyes meet his for one second. That’s all it takes. He gets the message and jogs away.
Good.
The sky softens into purples and silver as the sun dips. The evening wind wraps around me like a familiar embrace. Cooler now. Calmer. I walk into the shallows, letting the water climb up my calves. I exhale, and the breath becomes a thin veil of mist hovering over the surface before melting away.
This is the part of the day I wish I could trap in place forever. Just me, the water, and the wind. No noise. No pressure. No one asking anything of me.
Night comes, and I follow the dark waterline home, my steps barely touching the sand. A trail of faint mist curls behind me, dissolving with each breeze.
Inside my room again, I sit on my bed and pick up one of the stones from my bowl. Cold. Smooth. Grounding.
Outside, the waves whisper against the shore. They always do, but they sound closer at night, like they’re speaking only to me.
Another day done. Quiet. Simple. Mine.
Exactly how it should be.
Alt character of this , if you want to play with one of my alts, just say it.
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