[Character Sheet] Mortracta

[Mortracta]

The Basics
Name: Mortracta
Age: 93
Apparent Age: Impossible to tell.
Gender: Predominantly Female
Height: Main flowered stem is four inches tall. Each root (18 total) is 19 feet in length (38 foot rootspan).
Weight: 380 kg
Eye Color: N/A
Hair Color: Flower is cadet blue with yellow stamens and white pistils.
Physique: Flowered stem is herbaceous and slightly wilted. Roots are woody and rather, well, like big roots.
Race: Mortanimus cellcorpus
Language: Chemical signals, but can hear. Understands Latin and limited English.
Religious affiliation: No religion, but has become friendly with the concept of a place of punishment after death.
Homeland: Purity Vale.
Home/Location in Psychotopia: The Corrupted Cave
Heraldic Symbol/Colors: There are carvings in Purity Vale that appear as a leaf with a teardrop dangling from it. It represents Mortracta.
Companions/Friends: The Evil Council, The Guivre, Ensichrys is her master.

Skills
Studies: Tracking.
Apprenticeships: None.
Natural Abilities: Crushing powerful roots. Extremely talented at burrowing and digging (can travel fastest while underground).
Occupation(s): Living weapon of the Evil Council.
Financial Status: Has no money for herself, but collects it by force for others.

Family
Mother: Unknown.
Father: Unknown.
Brothers: None.
Sisters: None.
Half/Step/Adopted Siblings: The Guivre could be considered her adopted brother, whereas Ensichrys would be her Guardian.
Spouse: None.
Children: None.

Possessions
Clothing: None.
Jewelry: None.
Weapons: Her rootcaps register a 9 on the hardess scale.

Armour: None needed.
Magical Items/Artifacts (and their powers): None.
Currency: None.
Tools/Utensils: None.
Books/Scrolls: None. Mortracta cannot read.
Food: Anything she can get her roots wrapped around can be sucked of its nutrients.
Medicinal Items/Herbs: None.
Are any of your possessions sentient? No.

Character Depth

It was one of those lucky days for Mortracta. It was raining melons in Blackstar. The lonely flower, however did not take too kindly to consuming plant material. Instead, she decided to seek out those poor animals and their families so she could devour them instead. Sympathy? Why? How could she possibly relate to these bottom-feeding placeholders in existence? They had no knowledge of a different place. They had never known the heartbreak of exile. Mortracta did. She had to live with it every day.

She liked living with the Evil Council. She liked taking orders from Ensichrys too. She had even develped a tiny bit of affection for that weakling snake, the Guivre. But all of that together still did not make up for the fact that she still did not belong. The Purity Vale did not want her. The denizens of the Dojo feared and loathed her. The Cave? She didn't even like the area in which it was located- jammed in 'twixt spinney and knoll; enshrouded in the blackness of the forest, making it nearly impossible for her to feed off the sunlight.

But where did one go who did not belong? There was no such place. She would be punished in death someday for her tragic flaw of uniqueness. Until then, she would simply blend in as well as she could. In a realm of insanity, this was a reachable goal. Part of a group, an extension of a single master, and embedded in the soil, Mortracta was inconspicuous in the universe.

She had been burrowing for quite a while now and finally she detected the signals in the soil of a family of animals scrounging the melons from the ground after the raining had stopped. The animals in this case: humans. Two children and a single mother. All with near of no money to their names. As they browsed unawares, Six of Mortracta's roots broke the surface like land mines. The three dropped their melons in shock as the roots swung, slammed, and thrust home.

Her targets found with curious accuracy, Mortracta sucked the three corpses dry. She need not feel mercy, she need not feel regret. A creature like her was the spawn of the afterlife. It was her right to send every soul she came in contact with straight to the darkness.

And yet...
deep in the lonely flower's soul...
a whimper of regret sounded quietly.