Sigil: City of Doors

The Electric Swing Circus - The Penniless Optimist.

Basic Information
Name: Terika
Aliases: Terika "Ten-Tricks", Terika the Tiefling.
Gender: Female
Race: Tiefling, unknown heritage.
Age: Young, likely late teens or early twenties.
Profession: Magician & Dancer in the Archaos Travelling Carnivale, Sigil's local Flower-Girl.
Languages: Common, Cant, Celestial, Elven, Infernal and "Tail".
Accent: Undefined, bubbly in tone.


Physical Information
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 80lbs
Body build: Petite, delicate.
Eyes: Honey, flecked with gold.
Skin type: Tangerine; Light red with orange undertones, smooth.
Hair style: Pale platinum blonde; wavy and often worn high.
Scars: A third of her left ram-like horn has been broken off, she wears jewelry on the remaining portion similar to this.
Tattoos: None.
Tail: Full length, complete control. Non-threatening in appearance. Heart-shaped spade. Used for picking locks.

Physical Description: For a tiefling, Terika displays some odd traits and likely the most extreme of her heritage. While most of her kin sport dark or reddish coloured hair, hers is in fact a pale platinum blonde. Ram-like horns curl on either side of her head in spirals, perhaps a hint at her unknown bloodline. The tip of her right has a chip taken out of it, slightly broken. Around her neck hangs a simple item of jewellery, the main focus being the pearly iridescence of a gifted rogue stone.

Her bright amber eyes are flecked with gold and often alight with a spark of curiosity. She is young, noticeably so. As of late, a sweet floral fragrance lingers about with her presence, with hints of apple and rose most notable among scents. The spade tip of her tail is heart-shaped and does not appear threatening in any way, despite the control with which it is wielded. It is, however, an interesting appendage in it's own sense; quite sensitive and an obvious weak point.

Terika has a small frame, delicate and petite in shape. Though she maintains a toned form due to rigorous dance routines, she is clearly lacking in anything close to physical might. Each step she places upon the ground is done with a dancer's grace, despite her near limitless energy. Her skin takes on tones of red and underlying orange, smooth and remarkably hairless. Dressed often in the scant clothing and dance-wear chosen for her, the purple leather holds a slightly pearly sheen and seems to shimmer in changing light. A lush, maroon-dyed fur cloak is usually draped over her shoulders, along with an extra-dimensional leather bag of holding.


Mental Information
Alignment: Neutral, with some goodly & chaotic tendencies.
Philosophy: "Everyone dances to their own beat, yep yes!"
Deity/Beliefs: Terika doesn't follow any particular deity, though venerates various gods of faith's she's come across in her travels - particularly Lliira, though she's prone to Loki's influence at times.
Personality:

Curious - Terika is naturally curious person, finding mysteries of any sort irresistible. In most circumstances, alas, her curiosity overrides common sense, though this partially relates to her sheltered upbringing as well.
Naive - She is overly trusting of those around her, takes people on their word and is rather childish in nature. Terika is also not clear on what is and what isn't socially acceptable at times.
Energetic - The dancer always seems to have boundless amounts of energy until her head hits the pillow, often working herself up so much she can't help but pass out. She is constantly bopping, wriggling or tapping away.
Eager to Please - She enjoys nothing more than making people happy, and will often go above and beyond to make it so.
Submissive - Terika does not take the lead, often wishing others to do so. She is very passive in her dealings with others.

Additional Information
Gear: Terika often wears her show gear, purple leather in multiple pieces and a plush fur cloak of maroon.
Jewellery: A simple necklace holding a single rogue stone, a ring toward the spade-tip of her tail.
Habbits/hobbies: Dancing, Gardening, slight-of-hand magic.
General Health: Excellent health, save for the occasional bruise.
Favorite Drink:Cookie's Fizzy Drinks (particularly grape flavour).
Favorite Food: Candied Apples.
Weaknesses: Vyse! Sweets, illiteracy, Astraphobia (fear of lightning/thunder), differing reactions to use of the Infernal tongue, cannot swim.

Background: ((WIP))
As with many tiefling born to human parents, Terika's own were mortified with her appearance at birth. Hardly considered a bundle of joy, her spiral horns, fiendish tangerine skin and spade tail were too much for her distraught, and rather disgusted parents; cursing their gods for bestowing on them such a deformity. Desperately, they tried to rid themselves of the creature before anyone found out they had given life to such an abomination.

Attempting to leave the wrapped form of the baby tiefer on the doorstep of another, their plans to abandon the youth were circumvented by the presence of a half-fiend. Thus came Enzo, with his top hat and neatly folded wings; a truly terrifying sight for the couple. The fiend-blood lay forth a proposition after looking over the unwanted child; she would be sold to he, manager of a profitable carnivale, in exchange for a considerable sum of gold... at the behest of a simple contract. Needless to say, wanting to be rid of both child, fiend and motivated by greed, the couple agreed. Terika's life was was signed over to the carnivale, or so he had them believe.

Terika grew up within the entertainment industry, surrounded and raised by all manner of lifeforms. Her early years saw her often as a child-helper in the various shows performed - both as a stage hand and later a performer. The troupe traveled over many planes and the tiefling saw many sights and great wonders. It was not an easy life, however. In addition to the living conditions, the heavy workload and busy schedule, those who did well were rewarded, those who did not or could not keep up were punished...

As she grew into her teen years, her presence seemed to once more catch the attention of Enzo to whom she was sold. The color of her hair, the bounce in her step, the cut of her recently developed form... all things made her popular with the audience for various reasons. The half-fiend liked what he saw, or rather the image he painted in his mind of what she could and would become. Caught up in his own obsession, he slowly began to mold and shape her to 'perfection', grooming her to become one of the star attractions within the troupe.

With the reaching of her late adolescence, Terika was a success both as a dancer and a slight of hand magician; dubbed "Ten-Tricks" for the number of simultaneous "magic" tricks she could perform at one time. With her success came reward, and the tiefling was given a small freedom in her accommodation; allowing her to stay in Sigil (given it's convenience) under the express condition she never miss a rehearsal nor show.

[align=center]The Origins of Ten-Tricks:
Signed, Sealed, Delivered.[/align]


The streets were dark, lit only by the golden flickering street light that cast dim luminescence and eerie shadows on the paved ground as two figures paced briskly down the road. In the arms of the feminine silhouette of the two, a bundle wrapped in cloth of purple hue. Their actions were skittish, nervous as they stopped outside a nearby house and cast glances left and right down the shadowed street. It would be considered a quiet night were it not for the chirping of crickets, and the ambiance roll of music from a carnivale further down the road. The sudden bark of a domesticated hound drew forth the muttered curse of a male's voice, echoed by the feminine gasp of surprise of the other.

"Let's get this over with...." the man grumbled, casting yet another wary glance down the street as he scratched at his beard anxiously. The woman nods, drawing the bundle closer to her bosom as she carefully unlatched the gate of the yard before them. A creak of worn hinges halts her in her tracks, heart pounding with the sound. Despite the faint stirring, a wriggle of the bundle in her arms, the woman swallowed and inch by inch opened the wooden gate to step through. Quiet footfalls beneath her long skirts took her up the two stone steps and across the floorboards of the wooden patio. At the door she came to a standstill, casting her gaze down on the bundle in her arms, now still once again. No warmth is expressed in the shadowed features of the woman, a look of disdain etched into the lines of her face. Without hesitation, she relieved herself of the burden, placing the wrapped object on the doormat of an unknown neighbor. Hurriedly, she picked up her skirts and dashed from the door, not caring now whom heard.

No sooner had she returned to her husband's side did a voice ring out in the dark of night, velvet smooth and unmistakably male. "My, my, my. And what do we have here?"
The couple starts, the man reaching clumsily for a dagger on his hip with stumpy gloved fingers in a moment of panic.
"Who are you? Who's there?" He demands of the shadows, shifting and turning as his eyes strained to see in the dark of the night.

"Now, now. There'll be none of that." the voice hummed with an otherworldly authority, the sound of which was laced with amusement. The faint tap of a cane on the stone and the click of stacked heel drew the attention of the pair to their right, their attention snapping to the noise and eyes widening in terror. Slowly the darkness peeled away from the speaker as he stepped forward, street lamp lighting his person inch by inch. It started with the gold buckles on black leather shoes, drew up the length of pinstriped pants and highlighted the barbed tail that whipped back and forth. Next came the tailored jacket, the cravat and bat-like wings of blood-red hue - that alone enough to make the human couple cower in fear. Finally as the shadows receded eerily from the fiendish features of the top-hatted figure, the owner of the velvet voice was revealed. Peering over the darkened lens of his spectacles, the half-fiend gave a single flap of large wings that ruffled the folds of the pair's attire and drew a whimper of terror from the woman before folding them neatly against his back.

"D-D-Demon!" the woman whimpered, clutching tightly to her husband as he drew her close to his chest in a protective manner. The two could scarcely believe their eyes, convinced they were to die this night at the hands of a terrible beast.
"Devil, rather." corrected the fiend with a pompous arrogance and an impish smirk. With fingers whose nails formed mild talons, he reached up and stroked a perfectly trimmed goatee of dark hair as he gazed over the two quivering life forms; relishing in their fear. After a few brief moments of silence, he lifted the cane grasped by his free hand and gestured in the direction of the bundle on the porch. "Bring it to me."

The doe eyes of the woman met the pale blue of her husband's with horror, the bearded man nodding to the request. Surely if they did what it wished, the fiend would leave them in peace. Freeing herself from the embrace, the woman dared not to look in the direction of the monstrous figure, stumbling as she tripped over her skirts in her scrambled rush for the bundle. The loud screech of the gate, barely noticed to they, drew the bark of the dog once again. Scooping up the bundle with trembling hands, the olive garbed woman hurried her return and tentatively stepped toward the half-fiend. After a second's thought, she bowed her head and held it out as though it were an offering or sacrifice.

Bemused, the dashing devil took a single stride forward so that his presence loomed over the bowed woman. Tucking his skull-head can under his arm, his fingers curled and uncurled before reaching toward the bundle. Rather than taking it, however, he tossed back the folds of cloth with a flick of his wrist. A tangerine tail drooped outward from within, slowly curling around the nearest gloved finger as ruby colored eyes took in the blonde curls and spiral horns. Exotic. Slowly, a single groomed brow inched upward on the fiend's ruddy forehead, followed by a smirk that flashed a row of jagged teeth. "Mmn, mmn." came the velvet-toned tsk, gaze lifting from the sleeping babe to weave between the two. "This simply will not do."

"W-what are y-you going to do to us?" the rugged man queried frightfully, wrapping an arm around the waist of his wife to draw her back to him with bungle in hand. The woman's features were twisted in a mix of shame at her actions, matched with a lingering disgust as her eyes caught the contents of the bundle.
"Do to you?" a huffed laugh drew from the framed lips of the fiend, billowing a cloud of hot air between them. Almost -too- hot. The couple flinched heavily as his gloved hands snapped to his side with a devilish grin. "My good man, I am going to offer you the opportunity to do away with that which you despise so." The fingers of his free hand gestured toward the babe in the woman's arms, barbed tail whipping once behind him.
"Yes, M-M'lord! Take her, please!" begged the woman, straining as far forward as she dared to offer the fiendish child. "We wish not for her taint."

Her husband cringed in horror, mirroring the expression of his wife as she realized what she had allowed to slip from her mouth. Her eyes widened at the cobblestones beneath her feet, swallowing audibly. Lips parting as if to speak, she could make no sound save for the meekest of squeaks. A dry chuckle leaves the lips of the fiend, though his tone is amused, the flicker of fiendish malice in it sends a shiver down dual spines. Leaning forward with a straight back, bent at the hip, his crimson countenance hovers just inches away from hers. "Hmmm, taint you say?"

Lingering for a few beats longer than what would be considered comfortable, he slowly straightens. With the withdrawal of gloved hand from within his gold-trimmed jacket, the clinking of coins is heard. "I will take the girl." he states, a command rather than a question. Drawing what appears to be two leather pouches from his person, he juggles them between both hands as he eyes the greedy glint that appears in their own with smug amusement. "Twenty thousand gold coins. More than enough for you to purchase a grand property and live comfortably for the rest of your days. Mmm, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, Sir. Yes!" came the desperate pleas of the two.
The two bags of coin were then tossed in the direction of the bearded man, who had to fumble and snatch to grasp and keep them in his burly arms.
"The Carnivale you hear of in the distance, it belongs to me. In light of such generosity you will legally sign the child's life over to me, never to see nor hear from again." the half-fiend demanded coolly, the charming smile never once leaving his lips.
"Of course, M'lord. Of course!"

A slow, slimy grin etches over the fiend's ruddy features, a snap of his gloved fingers summoning a rolled piece of parchment and a quill that hovered in the air beside him. Instantly, the scroll unfurled and the quill began to write of it's own accord. Cane still grasped tightly beneath his arm, he pulls the dark spectacles from his nose and polishes them idly with a silken handkerchief that appeared with a flick of his wrist. "Her name?"
"S-She don't have one, M'lord. We'd had the name Terika picked out, but it weren't meant fo--"
"Terika." came the interjection with quirked lips of amusement, causing the woman to fall silent once more with the decision.

The scritch-scratch of the enchanted quill filled the air as it dipped and weaved over the parchment, jagged otherworldly text left in it's wake. Placing the tinted glasses once more upon his nose, the handkerchief vanishes with another snap of his gloved fingers. Taking the cane from under his arm, he tapped once more on the ground and plucked the quill from the air as both writing implement and parchment swiveled to hover in front of him. Lowering the neatly trimmed scape of his bearded chin to better see over his spectacles, the fiend read over the contract with a widening smile, signing his name with flourish once satisfied. A small dismissing flick of two fingers sends both in the direction of the duo who squint over the strange infernal lettering, the only legible word in their eyes being the signed name; blood red. Enzo.

Blue eyes darting to the winged figure, then the parchment that hovered in the flickering glow of the street light, the human male reached out and took the quill into his trembling fingers. With a deep inhale, he forced the nib to scroll without further thought. Passing it to his wife, babe still cradled in her arm, she too signed with her free hand. Eager. As soon as the quill lifted from the page, Enzo snapped his fingers and both vanished in a gloomy cloud of dark smoke, causing the two human figures to start with surprise. The sound of clicking heels and cane on the stone resumed as the fiend closed the gap between them, smug simper on his features as he reached down to throw the blanket back over the young tiefling and take the bundle into his arms.

"Thank you." he purred, wings momentarily stretched out at full span to cast eerie shadows across the street. As the couple shrunk away from the sight, his wings once more tucked neatly against his back. Lifting the top hat from his slicked back mane of dark hair, the fiend bowed with flourish, exposing two large horns which curled back over his scalp and spiraled forward slightly. Without further ado, Enzo righted himself and turned on his heels with his barbed tail whipping out into the space between them as he strode from them. A relieved sigh billows from the lips of husband and wife, woman clutching her chest as the bearded man squeezed her tightly. The fear in their expression was quickly replaced by one of awed greed with the fiend's imminent departure. Caring not for the babe they'd sold, both exchanged hushed whispers of delight; already planning just how they would spend their newly acquired riches.

"Don't spend it all at once." he called over his shoulder with a roguish wink as though reading their minds, the tapping of his cane accompanying a merry whistle that lingered in the air as he disappeared into the darkness of the night, swaddled babe in arm.

-------------------------------------------------------The Origins of Ten-Tricks:
----------------------------------------------Carnivale Life: The Early Years

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-------------------------------------------------------The Origins of Ten-Tricks:
------------------------------------------------Carnivale Life: Adolescence

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_{https://youtu.be/sICK064UD6s}

--------------------------------------------------The Deal: A Trading of Hearts.

A full Thalasian moon beamed it's pale rays down on a pair of tiefling as they sat huddled in each others arms, the crackling warmth of the pit fire a stark contrast to the cool ocean breeze of the waves that crashed and rolled melodically in the nearby distance. Dressed in their best clothing, the pair had seated themselves on a bedroll, drawn and offered from the bard's backpack for their first date. With the stars twinkling overhead and the sound of soft voices and warm laughter they conversed over a shared bottle within the peaceful realm of Elysium.

It had been nearly a week since Terika had been awarded the small freedom of layover within the City of Doors. Her success and obedience under Enzo had pleased her manager and allowed the dancer a chance to experience the smaller privileges others often took for granted. Needless to say, it was an overwhelming experience for the tiefling, despite the number of planes and primes she had visited from within the rolling caravans of the troupe. Not cage-struck, mind you. She'd visited the city numerous times before, after all. But to do so on her own, making her own choices... it was as though she was seeing it all again for the first time. With strict rules in place and not a jink to her name, the dancer had began to explore the mysteries of the City of Doors.

It was during one such evening in the cage, her fingers curled around a few meagre coins she had found in the street gutters, that she had met Vyse; the shaggy-haired bard shuffling nervously under curious poking and prodding of her heart-shaped appendage. The act was not met without some small delight however, the tiefling's apparent fondness for tails seemingly satiated with the rambunctiousness of her own, little did she know. It was a friendship that blossomed quickly with shared stories and close company. For the dancer, whom had never had the pleasures of friendship before, such kinship and companionship was a delightfully new experience and thus she was quick to bashfully agree to a proposed 'date'. Whatever that was.

"I w-wrote for the f-first time in a while t-today." the bard murmured softly, a mischievous grin on his ruddy lips as his fingers playfully danced along the length of her tangerine tail to the steady quartet of crickets nearby. "A-and I th-thiiiiink~... You m-might just b-be my muse."
A delighted smile further warmed the dancer's expression, tiny fanged canines gnawing gently on her lower lip. With flushed cheeks, her golden eyes followed the sporadic dance of flames just beyond the rocks at their feet. Her tail, curled around her companion's wrist, twitched sporadically with the petted attention and caused her to draw in a sharp breath as she passed the bottle. "Oh! You did? Can I see?"
"I h-have a little I could share. They still need a little b-bit of polish... a-and one th-that I started is s-supposed to be a surprise f-for you once i-it's finished..." A shudder ran through the length of her muscled appendage in his grasp, her lithe form shifting lightly on the canvas sheet. The lady tiefling swallowed lightly, her breathing taking on a rather shaky element with the drumming of her heart in her chest.
"For. . . for me?"

Having spent her life within the sheltered confines of the carnivale life, one among many, Terika was not used to receiving gifts, of any shape or form. She'd had no toys, despite the sideshow being full of them, and her most treasured possession had become a single pearl that she had once scooped up after it had come rolling to a standstill against her cage one eve. That same pearl now rested within her golden locks in ornamentation as Vyse nuzzled his small, down-turned horns against her larger spirals in an affectionate manner. Her heart thumped in her chest, the warmth of his breath warm caressing her features, mingling with the warmth of the fire. He was so -close-! and it set both heart and stomach a flutter, as if carried on the wings of butterflies. Not once had the dancer experienced such fluctuations such as these, and she wondered for a brief moment if she were getting sick.

"Unless I've m-mistaken you for th..that clever, toothy thing th-that ran off w-with my heart a few cycles ago." he whispered softly into her pointed ear, nose brushing lightly against her cheek. With his words, a soft giggle left her lips, albeit rather breathlessly, along with a small, dopey smile that hung on her features and caused her boots to shift bashfully in the sand.
"Y-Your heart?" she queried softly, golden eyes lifting shyly from the dancing flames to seek out the single orb of a similar colour alongside his eye patch. Nervously, her dainty fingers curled and fidgeted with the fabric of the purple pleated dress she had chosen specifically. Fixated fondly on the bard, further words tumbled from her lips uncoaxed. "M-Most are so guarded. . . b-but I'll try to be good with it. . . unless you want it back."
"N-no, no! I want y-you to keep it... y-you t-travel a lot, s-so I th..think you c-can show it a-all sorts o-of new th-things..." He encouraged, pausing a moment, to watch her fiddling digits with a smile, even as the dancer's eyes widened with his suggestion. With a final, languid stroke of her affectionate tail, Vyse's hand moved to envelope hers in a reassuring manner. "I w-wouldn't know wh-what to do w..with it if you gave it b-back now. Besides, a p-pretty dancer e-even told me i-it was gold... so i-it's a p-pretty good steal."

I want you to keep it. The melodic words rung in her mind, lips slowly forming the words in shy silence as she listened. Terika knew little of what she would do with a heart, but her own pounded steadily against her chest with his offer. This bard, so kind. So warm... wanted to give his heart to her? Terika could scarcely believe it, nor did she fully understand what it would entail. Little did her lack of understanding do to dampen her desire to be in his company further. "K-keep it?" came the tentative query, gaze dancing about shyly before resting on his once more and lingering in place. Slowly her fidgeting fingers ceased and her palm turned upwards to his, fingers entwining with the ruddy digits atop hers. "I-I'll try not to drop it or anything silly like that. I'll be careful, yep yes!"

"I-I'm sure if y-you dropped it, Tails would catch it b-before it hit th..the ground." The bard's softly hummed laugh lit up her features with delight, lips parting slightly to flash an easy fanged smile in response. "Y-you don't have to be too careful though. I-it's been dinged up a l-little before..."
A broken heart? Her blonde locks cascaded to one side as her head tilted, expression both curious and apologetic. As if moving in slow-motion, the fingers of her free hand lifted and moved through the short space between them to rest atop the clothed fabric of his chest; directly over his heart. Dinged up a little. She swallowed nervously, feeling the steady drum of his heart at her fingertips; almost perfectly in time with her own and the overwhelming desire to take care of and nurture such a wound that had befallen him. A smile finds her lips, brightening. "Seems to be in working order to me."
"G-good..." the bard blurted in a breathy laugh, his expression warm and peaceful as his single uncovered eye danced and weaved over her features in an attempt to witness every contour. "I th-think keep o-on that way as l-long as you're happy to look after it." Terika's fingers curled slightly against his chest, not having lifted from whence they were placed. As their eyes meet, she feels his chest swell with an intake of breath and the pace of his heartbeat quicken.
Her throat bobs lightly, swallowing. "Y-You're giving it to me?"
"It's all your's..."

The butterflies that fluttered and crawled in the dancer's stomach took flight, up through her chest and outwards over her limbs in the form of small goosebumps with an accompanying crimson hue that flushed from her cheeks to bathe said butterflies in a sunny warmth. The cool breeze of the evening could do nothing to temper the bashful heat in the wake of Vyse's heartfelt offer.

"I-I'll trade you. . ." Terika offered in a returned whisper, clearly touched but nervous. The bard's smile coaxes out her own, lips twitching and curling shyly. As was often the case when she smiled, her fanged canine's poked gently against her lower lip.
"Does th-that heart c-come with a tail?"
As if in response, the fiendish appendage snaked it's way around their joined hands and clasped tightly to rest the heart-shaped spade of it's tip across their knuckles. A bubbly, bashful giggle tumbles from Terika's lips, finally drawing her hand from his chest with a shy expression. "T-Two for the price of one!"
After a moment's pause, she offers additional words in a quiet tone. "I. . . I like you. . . Vyvie. I l-like spending time with you and seeing you smile. . . I-I don't know what that means. . ."
"It means y-you've got a deal." Vyse stated warmly, a short sharp breath as he leaned in to seal the deal with smiling, slightly parted lips. His pulse nervously drumming in his ears, low heat radiating from his palm and face.
"A-A deal. . ." the young tiefer stammered softly in repetition, her fingers curling gently against his within their entwined hands. She gives a short, sharp nod as her tiny fangs bite down on her lower lip shyly, watching him close the gap between them.

A few beats pass in what seem like the blissful eternity of a building drumroll, the two inching toward each other with the slow approach, her own tangerine lips parting to hover inches away from his. The bard's left hand lightly glided up her shoulder to climb the nape of her neck and cradle her head as closed for the kiss, his head filled with the booming of his heart, his summery lips meeting hers and drawing together to share in first kiss. A perfect, unblemished moment in time. A lingering, drawn out moment that was followed up with the bard's sheepish admittance.

"I... like th-the taste of b-brandy better on your l-lips..."

Throughout the remainder of the eve, the two continued to share the communal bottle of liquor amidst further conversation and inevitable silliness that followed. Come the approach of early morning, the fiend-blood had succumb to the beckoning call of sleep; falling asleep in each other's arms to the atmospheric crashing of waves on the shore.



_{((Credit also goes also to MadJackValance, player of Vyse, for the RP on which this post is heavily based and the part he played in such.))}