Rereading Charisma to get the details of our favorite Torment Princess
@TheMonotonePuppet
View attachment 24489
Some artistic liberties were taken with the eyes
Sol has fluffy furry ears right????? I swear they do but I can’t find the passage lol
They sure do! I believe it is mentioned while we meet The King for the first time, because that's where Sol gets them, then in the Betsie POV chapter, as well as occasionally referenced throughout the story in the Resolution in the City Arc, but the biggest passage is in the Miasmic System (the purple one), where traits gained via Torment hybridization are listed!
I have a Google Doc for the System to keep track of all of it, so it's easy for me to find!
Orbs of Vanity: See the world through many narcissistic lenses. They cannot hide from the eyes which wish to compare everything’s beauty to your PERFECTION. Improved by Fae Heart.
Metallic Golem Hands: Perform feats of impossible dexterity without the use of Dexterity. Your completely solid metal hands are virtually unbreakable, though this does not extend to the rest of your body. Level determines whether your concept of unbreakable wins against someone else’s concept of destruction.
Wicked Sharp Teeth: Your teeth are built for shearing through Magical flesh.
Stone Skin: Increased vitality.
Alluring Royal Hair: Your hair is made from Essence whose sole purpose is to make your hair look impossibly beautiful. The color signifies your right to rule. Improved by Fae Heart.
Plushie Predator Ears: Your ears are remarkably adorable, and being so large in comparison to your head only increases the “awww” factor. A characteristic that drastically increases survival against Magical Guardians. Allows you to hear what you should not be able to hear. Improved by Fae Heart.
Outfit Creation: Create the perfect outfit for yourself. Improved by Fae Heart.
Crystal Frosted Eyes: Your eyes are inherently irresistible, flavored with royalty. The crystallized tendrils are lenses which allow you to see the hidden.
Inhuman Movement: Allow your body to move beyond your previous pitiful mortal body. Extend your tongue as long as you wish, move your limbs in any direction in three dimensions (only forward in time and in no other spatial dimensions).
I love all of the various stages so, SO MUCH! Thanks for putting so much effort into it! I love the tongue and the lips by the way! Really well done, and the dichotomy is rather humorous, 2-D vs 3-D, LOL!
I would give more details about the Orbs of Vanity, but I don't think this art piece covers that section. Also, a lot of repetitious mentions of body details are removed after a certain amount of repetition. Thank you so much again for all of the effort you've put on it!
It takes me a quick minute till my cyan and ultramarine blue eyes flash with an idea
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Unbeknownst to me, the irises in my enraptured eyes dilate, devouring my pupil, turning Tyrian purple with thin black striations
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I peer at the lower half of my face with the small mirror, carefully threading loop after loop along the massive gash, sowing my own cheek together. It looks like a ghoul is trying to sew their all-too-wide mouth closed.
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It changes from a black-and-white exaggerated maid uniform to the perfect dress for me. It has a sleek bodice, and the dress is checkered with big sections of cyber grape purple and mauvelous pink. It still retains some nice ruffles around the skirt part and creates some around the short sleeves. It accentuated everything I loved about my body and minimized everything I hated about it.
A big, impossibly light, scarlet bow is pinned to my hair. My gloves are replaced with opera gloves that fit like a second skin. My pants have even changed in style and color to match my dress. And I can tell just from how it flows that movement will not be impeded at all.
Soft lace wraps around my neck with a tragedy mask completely mummified in thread right at the center, which I figured out after fiddling around with it. Upon examination of my surroundings, I notice that the comedy mask I had grabbed off the Anathema has disappeared, presumably becoming the tiny mask.
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I would hopelessly clasp my rotting hands over my soft furry blue ears, completely despairing over the sweet nothings and commands I can now hear the
Miasma whisper to me. I would tear at my skin attempting to pull away the thousands of lace threads which now connect me to
The King and wrap around the battered skin on my body tightly, loop after loop digging into my skin.
Instead, the tongue in my mouth that I had used to lick him and get out of his arms when we first met lolls out my flawless lips, ebony black and long.
I can feel my sharp, newly knife-like teeth digging into my tongue.
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A precious smile graced its face, beautiful ruby lips quirked in a loving smile.
It had eyes just slightly larger than normal, most of the whites in the monster’s eyes swallowed by an iris with a gorgeous purple evoking the Roman emperors of old, amethyst facets grown in frost-like bands across its pupils akin to icy purple ivy. It had a cute little button nose and its eyebrows were raised as if surprised to see me.
It seemed like it had once had rich brown skin, before darkening to a solid stone-like gray with faint dark chocolate undertones, though it was probably spawned like that.
Its face was framed by hair so blue it would rival even a Blue Magical Girl’s hair, a shade of blue that I swear had to have been magically enhanced for hypnotic effect. Each thread had an impossible luster to it, as if the essence of sapphires were distilled into extremely soft-looking, luxurious silk. The hair extended all the way to its hips.
The threads seemed to catch on something, as if they were suspended and falling off of thousands of invisible threads attached to the monster.
Pinned on its hair is a cartoonishly large scarlet bow, but somehow it fits with the monster’s ensemble.
It had a fascinating dress; a checkered pattern of purple and pink which exaggerated its hips and waist, though its chest was flat. The skirt part and the sleeves had ruffles, while the rest was sleek and soft. The dress split into more and more lace-like purple-and-pink threads when it reached the creature’s collarbone, entwining around the creature’s neck, a weeping mask wrapped up by, but visible through, the threads. It had flared pants that extended all the way to the floor, covering its feet.
It had fancy white gloves stained yellow, rust-red, and green, the arms distorted by odd bulges.
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My furry blue ears twitch, before rotating to face a spot next to Betsie.
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I brush back my gorgeous hair with a clawed and stiff metallic hand.
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I say energetically, stars in my eyes, and a super happy childish smile and posture.
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I grin slightly wider than normal, just enough to show the rows upon rows of wicked sharp teeth, each as long as a finger.
A disgustingly slimy, dark black tongue slithers out of my mouth.
I use my long, muscular ebony tongue covered in strings of putrid saliva to lick my lips in a truly disturbing fashion. With a disgusting slurp, I bring it back into my mouth, my head knocking back a bit from the sheer mass of my tongue rolling back into my mouth.
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My big, floofy, blue ears twitch to catch every vibration through the
Miasma itself and turning it into sound.
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I lock eyes with her, a wild glint in my large purple eyes.
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All the way up to my wrist, my hands have been completely restructured into solid bronze metal, and yet, they are not rigid like earlier when they were petrified into metal only on the tips of my fingers.
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My skin does not need every blemish removed, nor does it need the most gorgeous shade of brown or grey. That is not me. Every little facet that is me becomes metaphorically polished until I achieve a greater beauty than I would if every imperfection was removed.
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My teeth against my now-purple lips exemplify the beauty that carnivorous teeth in the abyssal waters of the ocean have always exemplified. My facial features are notably mine, but exactly as feminine as I want them to be, as I need them to be.
The metal of my hands is bent into angular instruments of death that sing to any warrior of the beauty of violence, and yet, they constructed by a metal of perfect purity and easily turned to the pastimes of peace.
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I really am an imposter. I even have the tongue and the teeth.
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I stand up and up and up, my legs lengthening like a cartoon character, though it looks oh so awful and disturbing in real life, until my eye and half of my face is pressed near the camera. Oddly enough, my pants manage to lengthen with my legs too.
My eyes widen with intensity and my mouth splits open across my face, an awful sound of rubber bands snapping as flesh breaks apart to make away for my new maw with excruciating slowness.
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A huge, purple eye stared at everyone through the camera, covered with amethyst tendrils of crystal, like frost under the purple light of an Aurorae Borealis. The iris looked around manically, the eye devoid of any iris.
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Flesh popped and separated, strings of white fat and red flesh doing a poor job covering the awful maw of rows upon rows of bone-white, conical teeth.
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Claire flinched back at the predatorial teeth, before feeling bad as the girl covers her mouth in embarrassment, her perfect gray skin blushing darker in embarrassment. The girl looked around frantically to make sure nobody saw her before visibly slumping in relief along with her large ears, not realizing that people in the shelter were watching her.
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There is a flawless stump next to my collarbone, as if it had always been so. All the weight, all the flesh and muscle.
My arm.
Gone.
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The Monotone Puppet
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Their eyes were like pulsating purple pupae, purple orbs that mismatched the other in size. The lopsided, wide-open grin of glowing white teeth squished the cheeks auntie-style.
Those teeth! The Cheshire grin shined like the white of Big Ben at night. One could believe Peter Pan could fly across those teeth, a tiny black silhouette saying “Think happy thought!”
