Post by Talia al Ghul on Dec 4, 2015 3:54:27 GMT -5
Real Name: Talia al Ghul [ تاليا الغول]
Alias: Talia al Ghul, Miranda Tate, Talia Head, Alnur Lailah
Gender: Female
Occupation: Occupation: Freelance consultant. The Daughter of the Demon (ارثا للشيطان), Alnur Lailah “The Luminous Night” (في ليلة مضيئة) princess of shadows and whisper in the ears of power. She serves as assassin, operative, agent to the goals of her father, seductress, lover and destroyer. Her role is that of the light that cuts the shadow, and that of the darkness that snuffs the light. She remains hidden yet present, mirroring the interplay of Satr (hiding) and Kashf (unveiling), She provides the path for the luminous truth that is her Father, Ra’s al Ghul, the Demons’ Head.
Current Status: She appears from shadow as a light in darkness, and appears as shadow to snuff out he light. Is Miranda Tate in Gotham to serve as investor? Is Talia Head in Metropolis serving on the board of LexCorp? Is Alnur Lailah mistress of the King of Jordan, or is the Poisoned Blade come to serve justice against a betrayer. Who but the Demon’s Head can know for certain?
Alignment: True Neutral
Hero/Villain/Other: Wildcard
Costumed Identity Known By Their Enemies? To be an enemy of Al-Nur Lailah is to be cunning, to be skilled, to be blessed with outrageous fortune, and to be powerful. Talia has few remaining enemies, and none truly know her from day to day.
Costumed Identity Known By The General Public? The woman of one thousand faces is known only to those she wishes to make herself known to. Certain names are known, while others remain shrouded in legend.
Real Identity Known By Their Enemies? Her true identity is known only to those of the greatest cunning, and those she reveals herself to.
Real Identity Known By The General Public? Some in the public may know her as Miranda Tate, while others might know her as Talia Head, other identities are known only to God and the Demon.
Abilities/Skills:
Theatricality and Deception: Powerful tools to the uninitiated, her greatest power is her adaptability, her ability to be charmer, lover, fighter and destroyer as necessary. She comes when least expected to the point of the greatest weakness of her enemies. She comes as a fire that consumes, and leaves her victims blessing her for the mercy of her victory. She is like water in her plans. She fills any need that is required, and then freezes into ice, expanding to crack any container she is locked within, revealing any weakness and exploiting it to cause rupture, and then she boils, scorching all that remains while slipping away, as immaterial as smoke. If you have predicted the actions of Talia al’ Ghul, you are simply mistaken.
Glorious Purpose: Firm footed as regards fidelity, and filled with the glorious purpose of the Demon’s Head, and the League of Assassins. Talia knows that when fortune is a person's slave, the heart is perpetually disposed towards obedience.
Since fortune is obtainable from obedience. Happiness is procured from obedience; The heart becomes illumined from the light of obedience. If you gird thy loins with submission, you shall open the door of everlasting happiness.
There is no goal she will not sacrifice all to meet, no absolution for those that stand against the Glorious Purpose of the League and her master, her father, the Head of the Demon. While her actions are that of water, her spirit is that of iron.
Swordyplay: She moves as silk twists in the wind in the shadows.
Capoeria: Her fighting prowess assumes a dance position between her dual swords, as well as utilizing the fluidity of Capoeria, giving her the illusion of a glorious dance, never being where she is expected, constantly in motion, swirling, circling and deadly.
Market of Wisdom: Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve from learning will find perfection. Like a taper she must melt in pursuit of learning, Since without learning one cannot know zahir and batin, the truth and the known. She works in whispers, with the craft of subtlety, mastering the arts of economy, science, politics and humanity itself. She trades in secrets, knowing the dark hearts of man, and the hidden wisdom of the night.
Society of the Enlightened: Oh soul, Make not choice of the society of the ignorant. Than to bear the society of a fool, it is more preferable that a fiery dragon should become one's bosom friend. In the society of the enlightened, he will turn to gold even if a person may be as a clod of dirt. For the ignorant are like unto the dead and the wise are like unto the saints themselves. The enlightened are, comparatively, like unto the Messiah; Since, from their breath, the dead return to life again. Thus Talia finds solace in her connection with the Society of the Enlightened, the Bretherin of the Satr Batin, the League of Assassins who serve her with fanaticism matched only by fanaticism for the Demons' Head and the Glorious Purpose of His League. They serve unto death, in all places hidden and in view. And towards the ends of that Purpose, there is no price too dear to pay towards Talia al Ghul.
Weaknesses:
HUMAN: The human frame as rapidly decayeth,
As the tulips, in the autumn, wither away.
So swiftly passeth away this sweet life,
As the rapid river boundeth along in its course.
THE TYRANNY OF OPRESSION: The world witnesses desolation owing to failure of justice. As it were a beautiful garden from the autumn gale.He who raises the fire of oppression in the world, crafts a sigh on the part of the people of the land. If a tyrant raises a sigh from the soul, the anguish creates a flame over land and water. Despite the freedom found in obedience, there is slavery under the tyranny of the unquestioned. Talia al Ghul's very strengths driving her towards the Glorious Purpose are the very chains that bind her down.
OF THE MULTITUDE: THEY ARE LIKE CATTLE: On the colt that is full three years old the breaker puts the saddle and bridle; he gives him a training in manners, and takes his restiveness out of him; he makes him obedient to the rein,--what is called a hand horse. Then he is fit for kings to ride, and they deck him with gold and jewels. f that colt had not experienced these necessary hardships, he would have been of less use than an ass, only fit to carry millstones; Talia is of the firm belief that a man who has not undergone hardship is hardly human at all. She sees it as her duty towards the Glorious Purpose to craft a test to shape the world and to transform it from dull earth to Gold.
Appearance:
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 145
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Lithe build
Personality: Iron, silk and water.Iron of spirit, silk in body, water in deed.
Because silk moves softly, flutters through shadows clearly, but is stronger that steel. Water in action, because she transforms. She fills containers when need be, hardens to ice to destroy, scorches like a cleansing flame. Hard metal at her core. Silk in how she moves and fights and is physically. Water in how she plans and acts.
As Talia is focused on the glorious purpose and fanaticism of obedience, and sacrifice for the greater good. She represents the brilliant fanatic, skilled and formed by the ends of her goal. Talia is the fanatic who uses the determination of service towards a cause to excel. Talia is the human in service to a greater cause, beyond good and evil because she serves a greater good
Talia is the river, soft and sensuous and cold and powerful and moving and eroding away mountains. Talia is the river in the desert; she brings life and death. Can erode mountains, move underground. Raise a civilization or destroy it. The only thing she cannot touch or stop is the Wind, her father. And only she really has the potential of doing so.
Likes: Victory.
Dislikes: Ignorance.
Background: Born in shadows, shaped in secrets, molded in the passions of her father, Talia al Ghul was to be the line that would bring the heir to the Demon. She was born of the last remnant of honest love possible in a man nearly transformed into a symbol. When her mother died in childbirth, the body was hurled into the Lazarus pit to recover the last gasp of life. Clinging to desperate necessity, her mother clawed her way to the surface to give birth, and then died from the strain. Talia al Ghul was born a legacy of opposites; both life and death, love and disgust, pride and dismay. Her father clung to her as the last image of her mother, and pushed her aside in dismay that she had not been born a son.
She lived in shadow, mastered them and made them her friends. Her playmates were the whispers of the wind over the sand, the soft silks of the halls of power, the hard stone of poverty. She took all in stride, for wherever the Demon’s head would be, his daughter stood as watchful shadow. She mirrored the craft of her father.
She was a willing and eager student, and soon mastered all that her father would teach her using the copious resources of the League of Assassins. She studied with the greatest of tutors, mastering the arts of life and death, philosophy and science.
Yet even so, she remained the greatest failure of her father in that she was not born a son. Despite her skill, her ability and her focus, she could never be Heir of the Demon. And her father, despite how he doted upon her, would always see her for possibilities wasted, rather than potential fulfilled.
She sought to overcome her limitations, to push beyond the inherent weakness of her gender as seen through the eyes of the power that made her flesh. She mastered her art and surpassed the other forgotten children of the demon with a hunger and loyalty born from knowing nothing else. She’d suckled on privation, was crafted to adapt, struck hard with the cold iron of determination, and mastered death before puberty. The Demon saw in her both love for her mother, pride in her accomplishments, and yet even so dismay that she would never be his heir.
The man who came to the desert had cold passions like her, crushed by a lifetime of disappointments, striving only to exceed them and reshape the world in his image. His eyes burned with fire like her fathers, but he stood not in shadows, but brazen in the light, as if to dare the world itself and all its hidden horrors with the sheer might of his own ability. He feared nothing, and crafted himself as her father shaped the world If she had emotion to share, it might have been his. But instead he had her attention.
He learned from her father, and she learned from him. Learned of pride and passions, of worlds and wonders. And all too soon, he was gone.
Time was meaningless, for there was only the Glorious Purpose and the mission of her Father. She changed, she transformed into that which was more than a woman, drawing in the legacy of the Demon, a study of contrasts. Bringing life and death, lies and truths, lust and loss, famine and feast, shadow and light, she had become both woman and legend. Culled from the shadow of her Father, shaped by the power of disappointed legacy.
Current Associates:
Ra's al Ghul [father, living]
Lex Luthor
Batman
Bane
Current Enemies: Batman, Catwoman, those inferior minds that cannot see the true guidance of her father.
Other Relationships:
Batman
Melisande [mother, deceased]
Dusan al Ghul [brother, living]
Nyssa Ratko [sister, living]
RP Sample: The music wrapped around them both as the wind. Always the wind. He'd left the doors open, the warm salty air cool on her skin as he had shown her this and that. It was always so droll, that which men thought impressed women. It was always this art or that artifact. This million dollar piece of art, or that trinket. This fine Saville Row shirt, or that Parisian necktie. Did they not understand power was not in a garment?
Smiling politely her fingers trailed along his arm as he, distracted, gazed down at her. She'd waited, she'd been patient, she'd played her part, doe-eyed and innocent to get him to pick her. And her dress? Well, it was less a dress than it was fabric artfully draped on her tanned complexion. Black silk around her neck draped artfully. Moved a few inches and she would be rather welcome in a brothel. But wasn't that life? A few inches north, south, east, or west and perceptions altered greatly.
Soon enough they had eased to the chaise, innocent kisses exchanged, hands placed intimately, her back eased into luxurious cushions. It was too bad they were stuffed with cotton polymer, and not fine swan feathers, or made with real silks. She missed those days with her father, hot scorching days traveling blinding sands and enjoying cool nights by the oasis.
But she was with this man. Feigning kisses, attraction, the possibilities of love. Perhaps with her Beloved there would be no conscription of farce. A freedom. She rolled atop the man in the fine linen suit, her lips finding the pulse at his neck, her mouth finally on his. He gasped as she finally bestowed upon him which he had thought to have earned, and in truth, he had. There was a spark of fear as their eyes met, another languid press of lip to lip. Fingertips grazed his arm, his hip, his torso.
Then the gurgled anguish as her dagger slid between his ribs.
Her mouth went to his ear, whispered words of careful precision pulling at his emotions, his physicality, his psyche. He spoke, hurried confessions of compromise as he debated life as it once was, and death as it loomed. Tears formed in his eyes and she could give him one last dignity as she wiped them from his face.
Noting the labored breaths, the paleness of his face now mirroring the moon she pulls away, water poured over a fall. His fingers grasp her wrist, eyes calling her close one last time. She obliges, as she possesses some respect for the dying, as he whispers to her "Thank you, Lailah." She offers him a smile before rising and walking into the hallway, no glances behind her. Calmly she walks through the halls, her silk dress flowing as it bleeds into the shadows.
A single beam of moonlight shone through the crack in the door onto the paling face of the fallen man. In his hand only a small paper, perfumed with lilac, with the word "لمحة". The door closed, and then there was only darkness
Alias: Talia al Ghul, Miranda Tate, Talia Head, Alnur Lailah
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Occupation: Occupation: Freelance consultant. The Daughter of the Demon (ارثا للشيطان), Alnur Lailah “The Luminous Night” (في ليلة مضيئة) princess of shadows and whisper in the ears of power. She serves as assassin, operative, agent to the goals of her father, seductress, lover and destroyer. Her role is that of the light that cuts the shadow, and that of the darkness that snuffs the light. She remains hidden yet present, mirroring the interplay of Satr (hiding) and Kashf (unveiling), She provides the path for the luminous truth that is her Father, Ra’s al Ghul, the Demons’ Head.
Current Status: She appears from shadow as a light in darkness, and appears as shadow to snuff out he light. Is Miranda Tate in Gotham to serve as investor? Is Talia Head in Metropolis serving on the board of LexCorp? Is Alnur Lailah mistress of the King of Jordan, or is the Poisoned Blade come to serve justice against a betrayer. Who but the Demon’s Head can know for certain?
Alignment: True Neutral
Hero/Villain/Other: Wildcard
Costumed Identity Known By Their Enemies? To be an enemy of Al-Nur Lailah is to be cunning, to be skilled, to be blessed with outrageous fortune, and to be powerful. Talia has few remaining enemies, and none truly know her from day to day.
Costumed Identity Known By The General Public? The woman of one thousand faces is known only to those she wishes to make herself known to. Certain names are known, while others remain shrouded in legend.
Real Identity Known By Their Enemies? Her true identity is known only to those of the greatest cunning, and those she reveals herself to.
Real Identity Known By The General Public? Some in the public may know her as Miranda Tate, while others might know her as Talia Head, other identities are known only to God and the Demon.
Abilities/Skills:
Theatricality and Deception: Powerful tools to the uninitiated, her greatest power is her adaptability, her ability to be charmer, lover, fighter and destroyer as necessary. She comes when least expected to the point of the greatest weakness of her enemies. She comes as a fire that consumes, and leaves her victims blessing her for the mercy of her victory. She is like water in her plans. She fills any need that is required, and then freezes into ice, expanding to crack any container she is locked within, revealing any weakness and exploiting it to cause rupture, and then she boils, scorching all that remains while slipping away, as immaterial as smoke. If you have predicted the actions of Talia al’ Ghul, you are simply mistaken.
Glorious Purpose: Firm footed as regards fidelity, and filled with the glorious purpose of the Demon’s Head, and the League of Assassins. Talia knows that when fortune is a person's slave, the heart is perpetually disposed towards obedience.
Since fortune is obtainable from obedience. Happiness is procured from obedience; The heart becomes illumined from the light of obedience. If you gird thy loins with submission, you shall open the door of everlasting happiness.
There is no goal she will not sacrifice all to meet, no absolution for those that stand against the Glorious Purpose of the League and her master, her father, the Head of the Demon. While her actions are that of water, her spirit is that of iron.
Swordyplay: She moves as silk twists in the wind in the shadows.
Capoeria: Her fighting prowess assumes a dance position between her dual swords, as well as utilizing the fluidity of Capoeria, giving her the illusion of a glorious dance, never being where she is expected, constantly in motion, swirling, circling and deadly.
Market of Wisdom: Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve from learning will find perfection. Like a taper she must melt in pursuit of learning, Since without learning one cannot know zahir and batin, the truth and the known. She works in whispers, with the craft of subtlety, mastering the arts of economy, science, politics and humanity itself. She trades in secrets, knowing the dark hearts of man, and the hidden wisdom of the night.
Society of the Enlightened: Oh soul, Make not choice of the society of the ignorant. Than to bear the society of a fool, it is more preferable that a fiery dragon should become one's bosom friend. In the society of the enlightened, he will turn to gold even if a person may be as a clod of dirt. For the ignorant are like unto the dead and the wise are like unto the saints themselves. The enlightened are, comparatively, like unto the Messiah; Since, from their breath, the dead return to life again. Thus Talia finds solace in her connection with the Society of the Enlightened, the Bretherin of the Satr Batin, the League of Assassins who serve her with fanaticism matched only by fanaticism for the Demons' Head and the Glorious Purpose of His League. They serve unto death, in all places hidden and in view. And towards the ends of that Purpose, there is no price too dear to pay towards Talia al Ghul.
Weaknesses:
HUMAN: The human frame as rapidly decayeth,
As the tulips, in the autumn, wither away.
So swiftly passeth away this sweet life,
As the rapid river boundeth along in its course.
THE TYRANNY OF OPRESSION: The world witnesses desolation owing to failure of justice. As it were a beautiful garden from the autumn gale.He who raises the fire of oppression in the world, crafts a sigh on the part of the people of the land. If a tyrant raises a sigh from the soul, the anguish creates a flame over land and water. Despite the freedom found in obedience, there is slavery under the tyranny of the unquestioned. Talia al Ghul's very strengths driving her towards the Glorious Purpose are the very chains that bind her down.
OF THE MULTITUDE: THEY ARE LIKE CATTLE: On the colt that is full three years old the breaker puts the saddle and bridle; he gives him a training in manners, and takes his restiveness out of him; he makes him obedient to the rein,--what is called a hand horse. Then he is fit for kings to ride, and they deck him with gold and jewels. f that colt had not experienced these necessary hardships, he would have been of less use than an ass, only fit to carry millstones; Talia is of the firm belief that a man who has not undergone hardship is hardly human at all. She sees it as her duty towards the Glorious Purpose to craft a test to shape the world and to transform it from dull earth to Gold.
Appearance:
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 145
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Lithe build
Personality: Iron, silk and water.Iron of spirit, silk in body, water in deed.
Because silk moves softly, flutters through shadows clearly, but is stronger that steel. Water in action, because she transforms. She fills containers when need be, hardens to ice to destroy, scorches like a cleansing flame. Hard metal at her core. Silk in how she moves and fights and is physically. Water in how she plans and acts.
As Talia is focused on the glorious purpose and fanaticism of obedience, and sacrifice for the greater good. She represents the brilliant fanatic, skilled and formed by the ends of her goal. Talia is the fanatic who uses the determination of service towards a cause to excel. Talia is the human in service to a greater cause, beyond good and evil because she serves a greater good
Talia is the river, soft and sensuous and cold and powerful and moving and eroding away mountains. Talia is the river in the desert; she brings life and death. Can erode mountains, move underground. Raise a civilization or destroy it. The only thing she cannot touch or stop is the Wind, her father. And only she really has the potential of doing so.
Likes: Victory.
Dislikes: Ignorance.
Background: Born in shadows, shaped in secrets, molded in the passions of her father, Talia al Ghul was to be the line that would bring the heir to the Demon. She was born of the last remnant of honest love possible in a man nearly transformed into a symbol. When her mother died in childbirth, the body was hurled into the Lazarus pit to recover the last gasp of life. Clinging to desperate necessity, her mother clawed her way to the surface to give birth, and then died from the strain. Talia al Ghul was born a legacy of opposites; both life and death, love and disgust, pride and dismay. Her father clung to her as the last image of her mother, and pushed her aside in dismay that she had not been born a son.
She lived in shadow, mastered them and made them her friends. Her playmates were the whispers of the wind over the sand, the soft silks of the halls of power, the hard stone of poverty. She took all in stride, for wherever the Demon’s head would be, his daughter stood as watchful shadow. She mirrored the craft of her father.
She was a willing and eager student, and soon mastered all that her father would teach her using the copious resources of the League of Assassins. She studied with the greatest of tutors, mastering the arts of life and death, philosophy and science.
Yet even so, she remained the greatest failure of her father in that she was not born a son. Despite her skill, her ability and her focus, she could never be Heir of the Demon. And her father, despite how he doted upon her, would always see her for possibilities wasted, rather than potential fulfilled.
She sought to overcome her limitations, to push beyond the inherent weakness of her gender as seen through the eyes of the power that made her flesh. She mastered her art and surpassed the other forgotten children of the demon with a hunger and loyalty born from knowing nothing else. She’d suckled on privation, was crafted to adapt, struck hard with the cold iron of determination, and mastered death before puberty. The Demon saw in her both love for her mother, pride in her accomplishments, and yet even so dismay that she would never be his heir.
The man who came to the desert had cold passions like her, crushed by a lifetime of disappointments, striving only to exceed them and reshape the world in his image. His eyes burned with fire like her fathers, but he stood not in shadows, but brazen in the light, as if to dare the world itself and all its hidden horrors with the sheer might of his own ability. He feared nothing, and crafted himself as her father shaped the world If she had emotion to share, it might have been his. But instead he had her attention.
He learned from her father, and she learned from him. Learned of pride and passions, of worlds and wonders. And all too soon, he was gone.
Time was meaningless, for there was only the Glorious Purpose and the mission of her Father. She changed, she transformed into that which was more than a woman, drawing in the legacy of the Demon, a study of contrasts. Bringing life and death, lies and truths, lust and loss, famine and feast, shadow and light, she had become both woman and legend. Culled from the shadow of her Father, shaped by the power of disappointed legacy.
Current Associates:
Ra's al Ghul [father, living]
Lex Luthor
Batman
Bane
Current Enemies: Batman, Catwoman, those inferior minds that cannot see the true guidance of her father.
Other Relationships:
Batman
Melisande [mother, deceased]
Dusan al Ghul [brother, living]
Nyssa Ratko [sister, living]
RP Sample: The music wrapped around them both as the wind. Always the wind. He'd left the doors open, the warm salty air cool on her skin as he had shown her this and that. It was always so droll, that which men thought impressed women. It was always this art or that artifact. This million dollar piece of art, or that trinket. This fine Saville Row shirt, or that Parisian necktie. Did they not understand power was not in a garment?
Smiling politely her fingers trailed along his arm as he, distracted, gazed down at her. She'd waited, she'd been patient, she'd played her part, doe-eyed and innocent to get him to pick her. And her dress? Well, it was less a dress than it was fabric artfully draped on her tanned complexion. Black silk around her neck draped artfully. Moved a few inches and she would be rather welcome in a brothel. But wasn't that life? A few inches north, south, east, or west and perceptions altered greatly.
Soon enough they had eased to the chaise, innocent kisses exchanged, hands placed intimately, her back eased into luxurious cushions. It was too bad they were stuffed with cotton polymer, and not fine swan feathers, or made with real silks. She missed those days with her father, hot scorching days traveling blinding sands and enjoying cool nights by the oasis.
But she was with this man. Feigning kisses, attraction, the possibilities of love. Perhaps with her Beloved there would be no conscription of farce. A freedom. She rolled atop the man in the fine linen suit, her lips finding the pulse at his neck, her mouth finally on his. He gasped as she finally bestowed upon him which he had thought to have earned, and in truth, he had. There was a spark of fear as their eyes met, another languid press of lip to lip. Fingertips grazed his arm, his hip, his torso.
Then the gurgled anguish as her dagger slid between his ribs.
Her mouth went to his ear, whispered words of careful precision pulling at his emotions, his physicality, his psyche. He spoke, hurried confessions of compromise as he debated life as it once was, and death as it loomed. Tears formed in his eyes and she could give him one last dignity as she wiped them from his face.
Noting the labored breaths, the paleness of his face now mirroring the moon she pulls away, water poured over a fall. His fingers grasp her wrist, eyes calling her close one last time. She obliges, as she possesses some respect for the dying, as he whispers to her "Thank you, Lailah." She offers him a smile before rising and walking into the hallway, no glances behind her. Calmly she walks through the halls, her silk dress flowing as it bleeds into the shadows.
A single beam of moonlight shone through the crack in the door onto the paling face of the fallen man. In his hand only a small paper, perfumed with lilac, with the word "لمحة". The door closed, and then there was only darkness
