Eryntse

Eryntse is a character in The Battle Majestic.

Weapon:
Eryntse is a roughly seven-foot long and two-foot wide cylinder of solid flesh. Although she is not what you consider a monster equivalent of a pro-wrestler, she does have enough girth to pin an average-sized person to the ground without any contest. In addition, she has six pairs of arms - this five-fingered strings of flesh are surprisingly strong for their noodly nature and thus hard to escape.

All twelves appendages are incredibly sensitive. Thus, for personal safety reasons, retractable into her body. However, she usually has two out for convenience. The other ten buried deep within her body save for the fingers which support her caterpillar-like crawl aganist gravity.

Abilities:
Eryntse's species is practically an engima, but not too unfamilar. She has what could be called a weak form of "glamour" - an electic fusion of illusionism and empathy. In a blink of an eye, she cloaks herself with an appearance that is certainly less monstrous. Her choice of illusion is independent of her genuine anatomy - she tends to choose forgettable, but moderately attractive crowd-standers. Regardless of size and nature of the illusion, her mass and actual size is still conserved.

Her glamour is foolproof enough to trick cameras and recordable disguises. However, the strength of her illusions are inversely porportional to the number of people around her. Also, her disguises could be easily broken if she is sufficiently surprised (which is not that hard) or emotionally hurt (which is pretty dang easy).

Description:
Eyeless. Stout. Flesh soft and suede-like. Small, hidden mouth. Anaconda-like teeth. Body filled with runny aromatic paste. Moves in sinous, wavy motions.

Eryntse speaks in a conniving but flirtuous manner. However, she could be overwhelming and annoying as she enjoys listening to herself talk. Prone to histronics. Incredibly sociable. Friendly. Clingy, even. Has no concept of personal space - or secrets even. In other words, incredibly brash and gossipy. Her conversations tend to be empty-talk though - she usually rehashes recent events or dishes out petty opinions.

Eryntse thrives for other's company. She has made it her utmost goal to find a Best Friend, which is exactly what it sounds like. Has a tendency to scheme towards that particular wish and her actions show, although she is remarkably short-sighted and careless with her plans.

Lastly, Eryntse has an unstoppable fascination for the tactile. Enjoys running her hands through fabrics, furs, and other various textures. Sometimes drapes such things over her thick body in an attempt to "remember" them. However, this addiction is essentially self-defeating to her friend-making quest - Eryntse has a tendency to pull at people's lapels and palm their hair. Although she absolutely means no harm, her actions are understandably construed as "creepy" and "uncalled for."

Any reminder of that has a tendency to leave her at tears.

Biography:
"OH. MY GOD."

It was supposed to like every other after-dinner job. Thirty minutes of calorie goodness burnt away. Go home. Done. However, now it seems that his nightly route has been interrupted by a monstrous snake. Forunately, it did not seem like it was planning to eat him. It was more like - it was caressing his windbreaker with its many hands. After his panicking was gone, his fear died along too - replaced with smouldering annoyance, especially since he realized he was still in its noodly grasp.

"Would you let me go." He grumbled, attempting to wriggle out of its grasp. "I have work tomorrow. You know."

The snake-thing hummed in reply, continuing to methodically tug at elastic bands of his jacket. Apparently the words had bounced off her ears (he was pretty sure it sounded like a she) - or maybe she was just simply ignoring him. Either way, her reply made the the trapped jogger feel a bit crestfallen, considering that she was more focused on his jacket than his talk.

Wait, that's it! He furiously worked at his zipper, frantically tugging his tag in various directions until he finally found the most prudent method. As soon as his arms were free from the grasp of his sleeves, the runner immediately bolted - leaving his favorite windbreaker in the hands of that alien beast. As the trees quickened to a blur around him, he wondered, just wondered if that enormous slug was tailing him.

In the end, he managed to get back to the safety of his comfortable house in time. As he began yet another jogging routine, he found his windbreaker on the manicured grass. Wrinkly. Sloppy with grass stains, but yet still here. It was almost as if it was dropped on the floor. This was incredibly strange considering he had a feeling, just a feeling -

- that she was taken somewhere else.