Parliament

Parliament is a character in The Fearsome Encounter.

Biography:
The full suite of biographies of the entirety of Parliament's inmates would take far too long to detail. Instead, let us look at the biography of the uniting factor in all these nefarious ne'er-do-wells' lives.

Lord Avery is his name. This dimension-hopping bounty hunter - hired by himself, paid in the thrill of the hunt - has made a hobby of journeying to far-off lands, learning of their tyrants and malignances and menaces, and using his considerable magical abilities to transform them all into birds.

"Lord Avery" is a pseudonym. His love of ornithology is thoroughly genuine, and he has taken a certain questionably-sane pride over the centuries in ensuring he has never cursed two men brought to justice with the same avian form.

For some time, he housed his criminal-minded, winged prisoners in a pocket dimension of his, re-purposed into an extensive aviary. After one particular hunt taking an extra three on-world years after he nipped back to check if he had already acquired a burrowing owl (as it turned out, he had - a certain maniac who bred and launched a swarm of Nebulaeches upon an unsuspecting planet), Lord Avery conceded he needed a more convenient system to access his collection.

The result was Parliament. The wooden mannequin lovingly handcrafted, and liberally bound in enchantments to have it (and its residents) serve and protect its master, the whole murderous flock was forcibly implanted into the doll.

Parliament then followed Lord Avery on his multiversal sojourns, its residents regularly welcoming new inmates. Lord Avery was happy, despite the occasional civil war that had raged on for centuries after he'd toppled a tyrant's empire. The scores of men he had bested (including the tyrants) - less so.

Whether Lord Avery is surprised by, resigned to, or outraged by his collection's disappearance; or if handed it over to his nefarious, more powerful compatriots of the multiverse, is currently unknown.

Description:
Parliament is a walking prison of villains, war criminals, sociopaths, cruel emperors, dictators, criminal overlords, corrupt political figures, Dons, con-artists, organ-harvesters, and other individuals Lord Avery deemed were making the worlds they lived in a less pleasant place. It stands around six feet tall, is garbed in some nice, dusky-coloured calf-length robes that helped it blend in to the roughly Renaissance-era world it was last seen in, and has a smooth, featureless face. Its external personality is exclusively passive and non-threatening (as per the commands set by Lord Avery), but being both durable and thoroughly-articulated the mannequin is more than capable of climbing, jumping, and running like a normal human.

The inmates themselves are a colourful bunch in terms of personality - scores of souls are trapped in Parliament, and while most are content to make disparaging remarks about each other or laze about waiting for a day of freedom to never show up, a society of sorts exists amongst those still showing a spark of hope for eventual escape. Newcomers are welcomed and oriented by the more repentant criminals; whispered threats of excruciating torture by the serial killers, and have their shoulders rubbed against the shoulders of slimy, ally-accruing politicos. As a group, they are disorganised as they are prone to backstabbing each other had they still possess backs to stab. Because of the restrictions placed upon Parliament's actions (which must generally be agreed to be acting in Lord Avery's interests at all times), the inmates are forced to discuss actions and convince themselves their actions are "permissible."

Items/Abilities:
The flock of Parliament has one ability acquired after their separation from Lord Avery - they may now manifest at will, in their enchanted avian forms, and have general autonomy. This is also Parliament's only sensory input. The birds appear corporeal, but given enough damage to kill them they scatter into mist and leave the villain in question in considerable distress afterward. The distance birds may travel decreases as more birds manifest at once; the upper limit is not explicitly stated, but nobody is particularly keen to go pressing it. Individuals who enjoy manifesting tend to earn derision from the more apathetic members of Parliament, but the "Venturers" scorn the ennui-infested souls in turn.

One big evil family, really.