☽ Myzz't ☾ — The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal.
+18 | single ship | indie tes ask/rp blog | semi-selective
— The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal.
Hailing from deep below the earth in the ruins of a once-great city, Myzz’t is an enigmatic figure that seems to haunt it’s empty halls; Seemingly the last original resident. They have lived thousands of years beneath stone, although their never-ending quest for knowledge and unraveling the secrets of Aetherius has taken them all over Tamriel. An unfriendly spectre, it is difficult to determine whether they will help.....or hurt.
Clanking of jewelry and the rustle of fabric-- a slim, wary figure emerging from the darkness, heavily tattooed and clearly on edge. Their shaven head betrays long, slim ears and ambiguous features-- a high elf perhaps? Or something else, indistinguishable.
“Who are you?” they speak, tone was wary as their appearance.
go into the future / past
never age physically / mentally
lose your eyesight / hearing
the first / last to die in a group
have it constantly dark / light
extreme cold / hot weather
have ringing in your ear / see hallucinations
the deep sea / far in outer space
be apathetic / ignorant
get even / over it
always tell the truth / lie
change the colour of your hair / eyes
to kill / be killed
give / take bad advice
The vemer grimaced, thin fingers clenching and then unclenching; a clear show of their anxiety. The dwemer seemed to bring tragedy wherever he walked, as if some sort of magnetic force drew it to him. Myzz’t stared down at the corpse for a moment longer, and then leaned heavily against their staff, sighing.
“Unfortunately so,” they rasped, “But what can we do about it?”
Since I last came on, there have been some new developments to Myzz’t’s character-- more on their backstory and on their family, as well as just little nitpicky details. Fair warning-- I’m not a lore expert, so any help is super welcome! See under the cut!
General Information
Name: Myzz’t
Pronunciation: My-ss-t
Name Origin: Dwemeris
Gender: Genderless/Agender
Birth Name: Myzuhlft Kzrerlatz Nthualandhei
Birth Date: 1E 125, 10th Rain’s Hand
Birth Length: Small, premature
Birth Weight: 4.9 lbs
Birth Place: Likely a Dwemeri City in Skyrim
Manner of Birth: Natural
First Word(s): “Cog”
Death Date: 4E 202, 20th of Sun’s Dusk
Death Place: Fal'Zhardum Din
Manner of Death: Old age/Ongoing Illness
Resting Place: The Forgotten Vale, Skyrim
Last Words: “I’ll see you when I wake...”
Dominant Hand: Right
Astrological Sign: The Mage (Mechanist)
Appearance
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 145 lbs
Species: Mer
Race: Dwemer/Snow elf
Blood Type: O
Skin Color: Light Olive/Gold
Birthmarks: Lower back, left
Locomotion: Spider-like, tends to creep and move very quietly. Formerly, they moved in a noble but subdued manner, often looking down. This all but disappeared after years of travel on the surface.
Hair Color: Black, streaked with grey and black. Often hidden by use of dyes or magic.
Hair Length: Long
Hair Type: Straight, wavy when humid
Hair Style: Worn long, sometimes with shaved sides, other times not.
Widow's Peak: Mild
Ear Shape: Long, sticking out from the sides of their head.
Ear Type: Attached
Eye Color: Ice blue
Eye Type: Catlike, slanted and large.
Eyebrows: Thick and prominent, arched and intense.
Nose Color: Pink when cold
Nose Shape: Hooked and long, but doesn’t stick out much. Wide at the top of the bridge, becoming narrow towards the tip.
Teeth: Straight and neat, some a bit on the sharp side.
Face Shape: Diamond
Complexion: Clear, very smooth and clean. Light wrinkles in places, especially around eyes and mouth. These have been hidden/corrected over the years, magically.
Facial Hair: Capable of growing an impressive beard, shaves often. Probably also uses some sort of magic to slow facial hair growth, because it grows in fast.
Shirt Size: XS
Waist Size: 25 inches
Health and Image
Diet: Mushrooms, various underground vegetables,
Exercise: Plenty, with the amount they have to go out and get supplies, as well as how much they have to travel in Blackreach.
Fitness: Very thin, wiry muscle. Scrappy, but will not win when it comes to physical strength.
Maximum Load: 87-130lbs-- not much.
Running Speed: Quick, with their gait/lightness. Not a lot of stamina.
Posture: Somewhat hunched, cautious. Formerly: Straight, but with eyes down
Reflexes: Sharp, if a bit oversensitive.
Vulnerabilities: Hot conditions, the sun,
Handicaps: Poor health, achey joints
Augmentations: Many magical augmentations to move past their declining health/old age.
Wardrobe: Scanty-- typically no more than a loose top that’s little more than a bit of cloth draped around their shoulders. Belly is often exposed. Loose pants/Long skirts are often worn. For travelling outside Blackreach, typically a light armor or dark robes.
Accessories: Lots of jewelry-- many rings and an amulet. One ring that’s of their family’s house, several others given to them by friends over the ages.
Equipment: Staff for walking/casting, herb pouch, satchel with rations/potions/keys, a glass sword
Amulets: An amulet that once belonged to their snow elf mother, given them to by her upon her death, in secret.
Piercings: Nose, 6 in each ear, 4 on genitals, under lip.
Hygiene: Washes regularly, every other day or so; They’ve managed to get the water working in the observatory, and they often heat it with magic.
Makeup: Somewhat heavy, wears kohl and eyeshadow made of crushed minerals on eyelids-- typically in gold.
Scent: Cold, musty. Like stone and metal, carries the light scent of herbs. A strange metallic, magical scent.
Scars: a few on the back (appear to be lashes, very, very much faded. Some on the hands that appear to be more recent.)
Tattoos: Neck, chest, arms, back, hands. Many appear to have snow elf motifs, others are obsolete scripts twining around their body.
Voice
Accent / Dialect: Light dwemeri, sounds strange to modern ears.
Voice: Raspy and scratchy from lack of much loud use. Typically very soft. Before, it was smooth, though it could grow sharp and harsh.
Pitch: Lower than medium, but not very deep. Tenor.
Range: Cracks above a certain point, typically when they try to speak very loudly.
Volume: Very soft, rarely above a stage whisper.
Laughter: Crackling, wheezy. Often results in a coughing fit. Used to be quite jovial, though soft.
Impediments: Has a hard time pronouncing certain letter combinations, typically those that are very modern. Not great at Cyrodillic, or anything with a whole lot of vowels.
Psychology
Languages: Dwemeris, Altmeris, Common, several obsolete languages.
Memory: Clear, but memories of their younger years can be very foggy, considering they are the better part of 2000 years old. Relies heavily on carefully kept journals from over the years.
Social
Mother: A snow elf slave, of only the first or second generation of snow elf slaves. (Imetys Isevryn)
Father: Dwemer lord and tonal architect (Kzyazbrar Nthualandhei.)
Guardians: Adoptive mother who was somewhat cruel and callous (Szalec Nthualandhei)
Siblings: Multiple half-siblings on both sides, most notably an older brother who wasn’t so cruel to them (Szalen)
Children: Nevrysa Falsero (with a dunmer, some point in their younger years; likely during times wandering)
They could feel it coming. They’d felt it coming for months.
Tired bones ached more with each passing day, and they found that waking up in the morning and even getting up was a chore. It had been a long fight-- but then, 3000 years takes it’s toll, even on the best necromancer.
It would only be a matter of days, now. They could feel Aetherius calling, acutely aware of every little brittle bone, how each moved under papery skin, long worn from magic that kept age at bay. They wondered, briefly, which of their kin they would join-- would they go to Auri-El’s domain, and join their mother? Or would it be their father they disappeared into the Aether with, along with every other Dwemer that had lived. They did not want to imagine an eternity with their father’s kin; No, there had been enough of that long ago.
It took them a week to go. What felt like a hundred years, to them, but to their amazement, they were not alone, as they had always imagined they would be. That strange, new acquaintance was by their side, with a comforting hand to guide them into the beyond. They slid off into a dreamless sleep, tired, milky eyes sliding shut, breath slowing to nothing. The one called dovahkiin knew what to do; what remained of them would lie in the Forgotten Vale, until they became part of the earth once more. Their soul would join their kin, whoever they may be, and they would no longer be alone.
✹ — The child’s teeth chattered against the cold as they waded through the snow in tattered, golden robes, olive cheeks flushed from hours in the elements. They hadn’t left the city for long-- they were just exploring, after all, and there was no harm in that...except for the fact that they were now hopelessly, undeniably, lost. Though the city had been large and confusing, it had at least been familiar. Now, cold and alone, Myzz’t did only what any lost child would do-- plopped down right where they were standing in the snow, and began to cry.
His voice falls into a meek manner, yet it’s noticeable that his stance hasn’t yet fallen from his once confident stance. It was unease on whether they were on the same terms or not.
“How far in are you, if I may ask? I must know if I should venture further to find my own spot to hollow or-?”
☽ – Myzz’t leans against vir staff, coy expression giving way to one of genuine curiosity-- This knight becomes increasingly confounding as the conversation wears on.
“I am afraid I do not know what you refer to.” ve purse their lips, eyes narrowing as ve think, trying to piece together a meaning. Hollow? Rot, perhaps? No, can’t be right...
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