#b-team

Dravelle never bothered pretending to be calm, as control bored her. She carried herself like a storm that was approaching and learned rhythm. Walking the fine edge between chaos and purpose without caring much which side she fell on. Every movement she made felt intentional and unfiltered, the kind of confidence that came from accepting that she wasn't built to fin in. To her, elegance and wilderness weren't opposites, but the same thing seen from differing distances.

People often called her reckless, but they missed the point. Dravelled understood balance too well to like it. She had seen what obssession with control had done to people, it dulled their instincts, turned them into careful ghosts of what they could have been. Dravelle herself preferred risk. When she moved, she trusted in her guts and instinct, letting her mind follow and not the other way around. It wasn't ever impulse, but intuition sharpened to the point it looked chaotic.

Dravelle's words often carried the same energy as her motion. Sharp, clean and never sugar-coating her words. She didn't argue when she could demonstrate and she never explainedh erself when silence spoke more. Some took this bluntness as arrogance, others saw it as clarity. For Dravelle, the truth was just that, something that needed to cut deep enough to be remembered. She said what she meant and meant wht she said, even if it wasn't kind...especially then.

Emotions never scared her and she treated them as a weapon, not a weakness. Anger, joy, grief, and more; Each had their use when tempered through will. Where some would bottle them up to stay composed, Dravelled refined them into focus. Thaumtaurgy demanded that kind of honesty and magic responded to what was real, not suppressed. Every spark of energy came from something genuine, something refused to be caged.

Those who fought alongside her learned quickly that she wasn't looking for followers. She wanted equals, the kind who stood beside in her chaos and wouldn't flionch. To her strength was never about control or domination, but about knowing when to let go and still stand tall. Dravelle never chased perfection or peact, but she chased motion. The moment it stopped, she would too.

Backstory:

The earliest memory Dravelle had wasn't of birth, but a sudden awakening. No cradle, no childhood, only the soudn ofh er own breathing echoing through a chamber filled with light that hadn't belonged to the world. She remembered her body moving before her mind did, as if something ancient had alredy decided she would keep living. The first thing she saw was her reflection, distorted and marked by faint scales that shimmered like cracks in reality. Whatever she had been before, it wasn't human anymore.

Dravelled hadn't awoken into peace either. The world met her with chaos and conflict. Her Dracontine blood came alive in those moments and instinct latched onto battle like it was natural. Where most dragons fought by nature, Dravelle fought by choice. Every clash and wound were a lesson and she discovered Thaumaturgy through survival. It wasn't learned through study, scrolls or teacher, but through raw instinct and beinding energy with her own will until it obeyed. They called it discipline, she called it sharpened instinct.

The Beyond Team had formed around Dravelle as time had passed. After she went through several cities and they started treating her like a living legend, a myth. They had expected a monster, but instead she smiled at her companions. Kaelis, their students, their other friends, they were magnificent and before they knew it, all the villains they faced, all the challenges they went through, they had become fire-forged companions. They had earned her respect and she earned theirs and she wouldn't change it for anything in the universe.

Truth be told, Dravelle never cared enough to recover whatever pastr life she might have had. There wasn't any nostalgia in it for her, only curiosity about how far instinct could go when refined instead of buried. Her philosophy frew from such; Magic as an extension of the body, combat as the language and will as the only law worth following. She believed structured existed only to be tested, that restraint withotu reason was fear dressed up as wisdom. When people asked what she was fighting for, she often replied to prove that she can still move.

The title of Heavenly Witch was granted to her by the Supreme God and Creator Deity Azathoth, as Dravelle had reached the apex and peak of thaumaturgy and a height nobody had ever reached before. Thus the title was granted to her and as with the other Heavenly title bearers, she too attained white pupils to prove her status. Dravelle was a dragon who chose to walk among mortals not out of pity but out of interest. A creature born of chaos, feared for her precision. Somewhere along this way, she found peace, but never the quiet kind, rather the kind that kept on burning brightly.

Abilities

Dracontine Physiology

Thaumaturgic Martial Arts: A fusion of combat and sorcery where each motion becomes a spell. Dravelle channels thaumic energy through strikes, kicks, and movement sequences, shaping raw magic through instinct instead of formal technique. Her attacks bend air, distort pressure, and tear through matter as extensions of her will. Each stance carries different effects (deflection, burst, control) forming a style that feels as fluid as it is unpredictable.

Feral Invocation: By allowing her draconic instincts to surface, Dravelle can heighten her perception and physical capacity far beyond her normal range. In this state her thaumic flow becomes volatile, feeding off emotion and instinct.

Thaumic Overdrive: She converts excess energy into momentum. Each clash, spell deflection or blow absorbed fuelled her core, creating feedback loops of stored thaumic pressure. When released, it manifested as focused burst, capable of creating short-range detonations that can reshapre terrains or paralyze opponents through shocking impact. The longer Dravelle fought, the more dangerous she became.

Thaumic Conduit (Right Arm) – Her mutated arm acts as both a stabilizer and amplifier for raw magic. It channels thaumic pressure through its crystalline structure, allowing her to release concentrated bursts or shape sigils mid-motion.

Ancestral Regression: Like some Dracontines, Dravelle can undergo Ancestral Regression to take on a more primordial form of her own and increase her power upwards 50 folds and more.

Rite of Breath: A Dracontine ability adapted through thaumaturgy. By focusing her breath through her core instead of her lungs, Dravelle can release condensed waves of kinetic force, not fire. The result is pure impact - visible pressure that ripples through space like shattered glass.

Trivia:

Dravelled had a habit of cracking her nack before combat. Not as an intimidation tactic, but to center her flow.

Despite her sharp control over magic, she wrote in a jagged, near-illegible writing style. She claimed that a neat writing style killed expression.

Dravelle disliked traditional meditation. Instead she practiced different drills, like walking while aligning her breath with thaumic pulsing. Stillnes to her is stagnation.

She once shattered a ring by accident, calling it very weak material, despite it being reinforced to the max. Many stopped arguing when she did it once more with stronger material.

Dravelle rarely slept for long. Being a Dracontine meant she barely needed any sleep and only napped to keep her senses sharpened and her energy flow balanced.

The title of Heavenly Witch was granted to her by Azathoth after she became peerless in Thaumaturgy, with none being able to match her prowess.

Her right arm is permanently altered by thaumic overflow - a crystalline draconic mutation that pulses with violet light. It reacts to her heartbeat, flaring brighter when her emotions spike or her power surges.