Post by Magdalena von Essen on Oct 10, 2014 23:08:51 GMT
NAME: Magdalena von essen
[PTabbedContent][PTab=APPEARANCE]
Though her general demeanor is similar to what it was for the majority of her life – before her diagnosis – her appearance seems to be based on what she looked like at the time of her death. Her long, dark hair was at that time a very eerie white. She rarely bothered to fix it and so it flowed freely made her look all the more ghostly. Though, granted, even without that her paleness likely would have done the trick. Tuberculosis does wonders for the complexion.
She apparently had a habit of wearing slacks instead of skirts in life, but she looks a bit more disheveled here than she was used to. Following her initial appearance at least, her jacket was unfastened and the fit was, to say the least, completely off. She has since attempted to fix herself up a bit, not that she’s modest. It simply isn’t decent to make introductions that way.
Her most notable feature, though, is those blue eyes of hers. They aren’t clear and pretty like blue eyes ought to be. They’re wife and icy and very, very deep – in the worst way. Her husband, when asked to describe them, called them pleasant when they met and progressively more unsettling as their relationship progressed. There’s no life to them. They might as well be stone.
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[PTab=PERSONALITY]
Well Intentioned Extremist :: She isn’t a sadist. This isn’t about her victims – it’s about results. The way she sees it, her research is worth the lives of a few humans who wouldn’t have done very much with them anyhow. If anything, the other participants in this competition have made her feel vindicated. Clearly her research played some part in the way that magi operate in the modern day.
Mad Scientist :: She’d be rather offended if you called her this, but it isn’t inaccurate. She went to some interesting lengths to keep her research going, especially toward the end of her life. Still, she wouldn’t necessarily call this madness. If you ask her, it’s dedication. She simply doesn’t see the point in bothering with something if you aren’t going to give it everything you have.
Dude, Where’s My Respect? :: The whole “White Witch” thing really got to her. It was alright when the humans used it, but when the Association picked it up she just about lost what little was left of her mind at the time. She is adamant to this day that it is a crime to reduce her to something as banal as an urban legend. She was so much more than that. Her research is more important than the goings on in some nameless Belgian town.
The Unfettered :: Single minded dedication doesn’t even begin to cover it. There is nothing – not morals, not apathy, and not even her own family – that could keep Magdalena from a goal that she’d set for herself. To a point it was charming – inspiring even. However, it very quickly took a turn for the disturbing.
Affably Evil :: By all accounts, she was a fairly agreeable person. Not terribly emotional, sure, but she could carry on a conversation. Her intelligence and her genuine interest in anyone who actually had something of note to offer her made her popular before her diagnosis. The ugliness that came afterward seemed to all to be completely separate from the charming, if distant, woman they knew.
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[PTab=HISTORY]
Magdalena von Essen was born in 1912 to a large and fairly well established German magus family. At the time they were based in Berlin, but at the start of the First World War they relocated to Switzerland. She was the eldest and meant to be the only child, but accidents happen, and when she was ten she became the reluctant older sibling of a pesky little girl called Hilda. They did not have much time to bond, though, as it was decided that Magdalena, the heir and eventual inheritor of the family crest, ought to be educated in London. She set off with her aunt, leaving the rest of her family behind in Geneva.
Showing great promise from an early age, Magda performed extremely well in school. She impressed her instructors with her willingness to learn and her insistence on completing each lesson to her standards. Her social life was noticeably nonexistent even at that age, but it seemed to be more by choice than anything else. She could have had friends if she wanted them, but her near obsessive dedication would not allow for it.
Upon her graduation she returned home for a short period of time to officially receive the family crest. After that she was off again, though she was never very open as to why. There was a research grant, she’d say. She was working with an old instructor on some confidential project. When she later became romantically involved and eventually pregnant by said instructor she married him only for her family’s sake and then stayed with him only as long as the project lasted. There was no proper annulment, but he took her sudden and unannounced leaving to pursue another project in Belgium – without her son, no less – as an official separation.
When the Second World War broke out in 1939, when she was already deep into what is perhaps her best known project. Much of her research was dedicated to the idea of isolating the soul. It was Magdalena’s belief that, with the proper coaxing, the soul could be brought out of the body and supported indefinitely. It could effectively transcend the boundaries of what is normally accepted as humanity and thrive as a higher being.
Or it would, she told herself. It was just a matter of striking the right balance.
And it didn’t matter how many times she had to strike the match before there was fire. The Association would have likely frowned upon her using magi in her admittedly less than ethical experiments, and so she – carefully and quietly – selected suitable humans for her extractions. There were more casualties than successes, but that is to be expected of experimentation. Either way, he research brought her some notoriety within her community. She was presented with many an accolade for her achievements, but worked as if she hadn’t noticed. Many beautiful things had indeed come as a direct result of her research – such as the basis for what today is known as Spirit Hacking – but there had yet to be a perfect isolation.
It continued to elude her right up until the day that she was presented with the diagnosis that sent her spiraling into some of the darkest years of her life. It was incredibly ironic. Her research, which she had expected to one day lead her to immortality, was going to end as a direct result of something as mundane as Tuberculosis. There was no one to give it to, after all. She didn’t trust anyone with it.
All there was to do was be quicker.
It was all downhill from there. As her condition worsened, her mind slipped and her normally quite careful execution fell to pieces. There were sloppier, more frequent kidnapping. Humans in the town in which she was based began to tell stories of a “White Witch” – perhaps a ghost – that would appear each night to snatch away anyone who dared venture out past practical hours. The stress of the illness and the pressure to complete her work had, after all, turned her dark hair a ghostly white.
Now the Association had a problem on its hands. Formally a decorated and respected member of their community, Magda had descended far enough to be a danger to herself and others. It was decided that she ought to be designated for Sealing, at which point she left Belgium. It was no prize. It was, to her, failure. For all her accomplishments, she would not accomplish the thing she initially set out for. What sort of legacy was that?
To her credit, she did avoid being Sealed, but she could not avoid succumbing to her illness. She died in 1945 just as the Second World War came to an end. Legend has it that what bits and pieces of her research were not discovered by the Association after the fact were sent to trusted relatives and hidden away. She obviously could not confirm or deny.
…Until now.
She is taking her acceptance into the Moon Cell as an invitation to continue her research. Here she is to practice a technology that she believes that she had some hand in developing, albeit in its earliest stages. There’s some kind of beautiful irony in that.
This time she intends to finish what she started.
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[PTab=EXTRA]
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APPEARANCE
She apparently had a habit of wearing slacks instead of skirts in life, but she looks a bit more disheveled here than she was used to. Following her initial appearance at least, her jacket was unfastened and the fit was, to say the least, completely off. She has since attempted to fix herself up a bit, not that she’s modest. It simply isn’t decent to make introductions that way.
Her most notable feature, though, is those blue eyes of hers. They aren’t clear and pretty like blue eyes ought to be. They’re wife and icy and very, very deep – in the worst way. Her husband, when asked to describe them, called them pleasant when they met and progressively more unsettling as their relationship progressed. There’s no life to them. They might as well be stone.
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[PTab=PERSONALITY]
PERSONALITY
Well Intentioned Extremist :: She isn’t a sadist. This isn’t about her victims – it’s about results. The way she sees it, her research is worth the lives of a few humans who wouldn’t have done very much with them anyhow. If anything, the other participants in this competition have made her feel vindicated. Clearly her research played some part in the way that magi operate in the modern day.
Mad Scientist :: She’d be rather offended if you called her this, but it isn’t inaccurate. She went to some interesting lengths to keep her research going, especially toward the end of her life. Still, she wouldn’t necessarily call this madness. If you ask her, it’s dedication. She simply doesn’t see the point in bothering with something if you aren’t going to give it everything you have.
Dude, Where’s My Respect? :: The whole “White Witch” thing really got to her. It was alright when the humans used it, but when the Association picked it up she just about lost what little was left of her mind at the time. She is adamant to this day that it is a crime to reduce her to something as banal as an urban legend. She was so much more than that. Her research is more important than the goings on in some nameless Belgian town.
The Unfettered :: Single minded dedication doesn’t even begin to cover it. There is nothing – not morals, not apathy, and not even her own family – that could keep Magdalena from a goal that she’d set for herself. To a point it was charming – inspiring even. However, it very quickly took a turn for the disturbing.
Affably Evil :: By all accounts, she was a fairly agreeable person. Not terribly emotional, sure, but she could carry on a conversation. Her intelligence and her genuine interest in anyone who actually had something of note to offer her made her popular before her diagnosis. The ugliness that came afterward seemed to all to be completely separate from the charming, if distant, woman they knew.
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[PTab=HISTORY]
HISTORY
Magdalena von Essen was born in 1912 to a large and fairly well established German magus family. At the time they were based in Berlin, but at the start of the First World War they relocated to Switzerland. She was the eldest and meant to be the only child, but accidents happen, and when she was ten she became the reluctant older sibling of a pesky little girl called Hilda. They did not have much time to bond, though, as it was decided that Magdalena, the heir and eventual inheritor of the family crest, ought to be educated in London. She set off with her aunt, leaving the rest of her family behind in Geneva.
Showing great promise from an early age, Magda performed extremely well in school. She impressed her instructors with her willingness to learn and her insistence on completing each lesson to her standards. Her social life was noticeably nonexistent even at that age, but it seemed to be more by choice than anything else. She could have had friends if she wanted them, but her near obsessive dedication would not allow for it.
Upon her graduation she returned home for a short period of time to officially receive the family crest. After that she was off again, though she was never very open as to why. There was a research grant, she’d say. She was working with an old instructor on some confidential project. When she later became romantically involved and eventually pregnant by said instructor she married him only for her family’s sake and then stayed with him only as long as the project lasted. There was no proper annulment, but he took her sudden and unannounced leaving to pursue another project in Belgium – without her son, no less – as an official separation.
When the Second World War broke out in 1939, when she was already deep into what is perhaps her best known project. Much of her research was dedicated to the idea of isolating the soul. It was Magdalena’s belief that, with the proper coaxing, the soul could be brought out of the body and supported indefinitely. It could effectively transcend the boundaries of what is normally accepted as humanity and thrive as a higher being.
Or it would, she told herself. It was just a matter of striking the right balance.
And it didn’t matter how many times she had to strike the match before there was fire. The Association would have likely frowned upon her using magi in her admittedly less than ethical experiments, and so she – carefully and quietly – selected suitable humans for her extractions. There were more casualties than successes, but that is to be expected of experimentation. Either way, he research brought her some notoriety within her community. She was presented with many an accolade for her achievements, but worked as if she hadn’t noticed. Many beautiful things had indeed come as a direct result of her research – such as the basis for what today is known as Spirit Hacking – but there had yet to be a perfect isolation.
It continued to elude her right up until the day that she was presented with the diagnosis that sent her spiraling into some of the darkest years of her life. It was incredibly ironic. Her research, which she had expected to one day lead her to immortality, was going to end as a direct result of something as mundane as Tuberculosis. There was no one to give it to, after all. She didn’t trust anyone with it.
All there was to do was be quicker.
It was all downhill from there. As her condition worsened, her mind slipped and her normally quite careful execution fell to pieces. There were sloppier, more frequent kidnapping. Humans in the town in which she was based began to tell stories of a “White Witch” – perhaps a ghost – that would appear each night to snatch away anyone who dared venture out past practical hours. The stress of the illness and the pressure to complete her work had, after all, turned her dark hair a ghostly white.
Now the Association had a problem on its hands. Formally a decorated and respected member of their community, Magda had descended far enough to be a danger to herself and others. It was decided that she ought to be designated for Sealing, at which point she left Belgium. It was no prize. It was, to her, failure. For all her accomplishments, she would not accomplish the thing she initially set out for. What sort of legacy was that?
To her credit, she did avoid being Sealed, but she could not avoid succumbing to her illness. She died in 1945 just as the Second World War came to an end. Legend has it that what bits and pieces of her research were not discovered by the Association after the fact were sent to trusted relatives and hidden away. She obviously could not confirm or deny.
…Until now.
She is taking her acceptance into the Moon Cell as an invitation to continue her research. Here she is to practice a technology that she believes that she had some hand in developing, albeit in its earliest stages. There’s some kind of beautiful irony in that.
This time she intends to finish what she started.
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[PTab=EXTRA]
EXTRAS
"I swear - I'd rather have a cat than a husband any day."
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 THIRTY-THREE FEMALE HETEROSEXUAL ASSASSIN MASTER RANK |
