Integration by Parts
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| File:Nothere | |
| Integration by Parts | |
| Player: @axon | |
| Origin: | ?? |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Corruptor |
| Threat Level: | 20 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Daimhin de Clár |
| Known Aliases: | IBP |
| Species: | Fallen semi-angel |
| Age: | Eternally 17 |
| Height: | 5'5" |
| Weight: | ??? |
| Eye Color: | Pink |
| Hair Color: | Orange |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | Half Irish, Half British |
| Occupation: | Chaos Enforcer |
| Place of Birth: | Singapore |
| Base of Operations: | Sheffield, England |
| Marital Status: | Single |
| Known Relatives: | Deceased: Father, Mother, 4 Brothers; Unknown: 1 Sister |
| Known Powers | |
| Dark Blast / Dark Miasma | |
| Known Abilities | |
| Logic, Integration, Derivation | |
| Equipment | |
| A formula cheat-sheet | |
| ' | |
Integration by Parts (IBP) is a Dark/Dark Corruptor.
History
Daimhin was born in the town of Sheffield, England in the 17th century to a father, mother, and 4 elder brothers. One year after her birth, she was followed by a baby sister. Her family was loving, though they lived in genteel poverty. They always were able to make most of their ends meet, and so they were happy.
As she was slightly vain, as most pretty girls were wont to be, Daimhin considered herself above most offers directed her way when she came of marriagable age. She was unwilling to forsake her personal happiness and selfish ideals to help her family's financial situation, which was growing more dire annually. Finally, unable to convince his daughter into seeing reason, her father arranged a marriage with the vicar's son, a gentle and humble man, with a generous, if small, fortune. Furious with what she considered a "sub-par" match--indeed, she sputtered, "he is not even a Viscount!" most indignantly--Daimhin decided that she could, and would, do better without the meddling influences of her father and brothers.
Packing all her belongings, Daimhin disappeared into the night (or, in truth, into the very dark carriage that was headed for London). After arriving in London and investing part of her meager savings into a room, Daimhin decided an improved wardrobe was needed to secure the right husband. As she was leaving a shop, a velvet ribbon, her newest acquisition, fluttered from her grasp and into the middle of the street.
Unwilling to part with anything that enhanced her beauty (and detracted from her pocket, as at all times Daimhin was practical, in her own way), Daimhin quickly followed the ribbon, only to bump into an unexpected obstacle. Before she had a chance to turn to see what it was, she felt a jarring rush of pain, followed by the quick invasion of grey.
In fact, Daimhin was dead, unfortunately having met her demise by runaway hackney. However, luck was with her, as she had accidentally bumped a small street urchin (barely human, to her mind) out of the way when following the velvet ribbon (a true loss). And so she had been granted semi-angel status.
Daimhin was a bit put-off by the situation, to be honest, and so she flew to her parents' cottage in Sheffield, only to witness the nupitals of her baby sister to her intended, the vicar's son. Indeed, nobody even remarked on her absence or showed any signs of missing her. Her room had been cleared out, and no remnants of her were left in the house. It seemed that the family she had abandoned was perfectly willing to abandon their headstrong daughter as well.
Daimhin felt a cold rage fill her body as she witnessed the scene. She, for all her flaws, had truly loved her family, and their quick dismissal was a slight her heart could not ignore. She gripped at the clammy feeling within her, feeling it ooze at the back of her mind, and then released it upon the marriage reception. Guests scattered, tables overturned, and food littered the hall. Daimhin followed her family, one by one gazing at them with cold contempt as the feeling flowed from the tips of her fingers into their bodies, until their eyes glazed over and their mouths released one final choking sob. One by one she eliminated them, drifting closer to the ground with each passing corpse. She saved her baby sister for last. Her feet touched the ground as she approached her sister, but her sister did not die. Daimhin did not know whether the dark power or her will for it waned, but she knew that regardless of the reason, it was enough.
Daimhin's wings never allowed her to fly again. But she couldn't bring herself to care.
Present Day
Daimhin now goes by the alias "Integration by Parts", half due to her natural proclivity for all things mathematical, and half due to the anonymity it lends (that a name such as Daimhin de Clár does not).
Above all else, Daimhin has stuck to her 17th century roots, believing unequivocally in good comportment and true, romantic, life-lasting love, leading the majority of her small pool of acquaintances to jest amongst themselves that she stepped out of the pages of a historical fiction romance novel. Daimhin values courtesy and chivalry, and expects proper behavior from the men and ladies she chooses to associate with. Unfortunately, experience has shown her that few people are up to her standards, and when people do not meet with her standards, they tend to come into rather...unfortunate...circumstances.
Daimhin is a hopeless romantic, and though she is not quick to fall in love herself, she is a willing champion of love between others, even to the point of violence.
Bets are currently being taken for who should be pitied more: those who become her mathematical pupils, destined to "delight in the complexities of the theorem," or those who unwittingly stumble into her tendency to wax poetic about the benefits of "true, deep, unending, love."
As a result, Daimhin's reputation precedes her, and she is often avoided in social circles; Daimhin can often be found standing alone, jotting down figures in a journal she keeps.
