Cinder

 Cinder
Rolled 7, 15, 1, 20, 9, 19, 12, 7, 8, 6, 11 = 112 (11d20)

Stats:
Str - 9 - SILVER
Vit - 5
Agi - 6
Mag - 9 - SILVER
Luck - 4

Age: 10
Development: Well developed
Specialization: Fire +3 MAG
Weapon: Fists (+2 STR)
Outfit: Flowing (+1 STR)
Magic: Tentacle Fun - Cloth

PERKS:
12 = Masculinity - SILVER - Eternal Style
7 = +2 AGI
8 = Enhanced sustenance +1 VIT
6 = Inter-dimensional Home
11 = Training - Martial Arts (Tai Kwon Do)
GOLD - Incognito

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Doors slide open, and silence fills the station. A late night service for no-one, going nowhere direct from somewhere totally fucking dangerous for me right now.
Now I would have stepped out onto the platform, squinting in the electronic lights as they flickered, taking in the new scents of the town that would be my temporary home for the next few days. I'd sigh, stretch out and stumble off, while whatever damned souls on the platform wondered what such a well brought up looking girl is doing catching a train at this time of night.

I really would have. Truly.
Unfortunately, I couldn't. Because I was 3 miles back down the track eating gravel and red dirt, waiting for my palms to stop bleeding. Turns out that jumping off the back of a moving train hurts like shit, magic healing or not. At least I'd ruined that fucking ticket conductors night, because when he gets to the back of the train he's gonna have to explain to his foreman why there's a hole that looks like Smaug took a bite out of the back of the train.

Prick.

Ok, so now let's do this for real. Pick myself up, sigh deeply, squint at the stars high above, sigh again and then wander down the tracks in search of new horizons.

"Incognito! Pucheeeeen~ You'll never be spotted! NEVER!" Chyuuuu~!". Can't exactly get too mad, no police had ever stopped me after the various robberies which no one could ever attribute to a magical girl, but really? A 2-bit ticket conductor in a gods-forsaken railway line sees me, and asks for a ticket. Yeah, I'll get right on that when your shitty railway actually sells tickets to little girls in the middle of the night without having to ask where my parents are. Let me get right on that.

It's cold.

Focus on something else, something to warm you up.
...
The night I killed that girl.
...
Brain you fucking suck. Now I can't stop thinking about it.

No country road that night, middle of the city, Friday night, the Valley. I didn't even want to be there, let alone be there potentially sober since the trains were down and I had to drive. One fast corner and suddenly glass, blood and possibly the worst shade of pink I'd see next to my own blush. Still makes me feel sick.

The blush obviously, dead people aren't nearly as freaky as you'd make em out to be. Still enough to make me retch though, which made the next part even worse. Confronting pure evil is bad enough, on a recently emptied stomach is enough to make you a believer.

~PU-CHEEEEEEEN~

To goddamn sound. No death rattle in your worst nightmares, no roar of a bushfire in your face, no jumpscare you really should have expected, and above all, no dark sacrament uttered by lips that should not be could ever match that sound for pure malevolence or pants wetting terror.

Still fucking freezing.

It said things. Things I'd rather not remember. It should have been scary, or otherworldly, not sickeningly twee. It should have muttered grave threats, presented a contract, done ANYTHING to at least pretend I was somehow involved. Instead I got a dancing bear that reached inside me and ripped out my life, history and identity. One minute, successful full time student with a future ahead of him, the next, a scared little girl staring into the void. And the void wears dipers. Angels mercy.

One minute, a slave to a system that chains you down, tells you how to think and feel and behave, and in the words of John Lennon "they hate you if you're clever, and they despise a fool". The next, you're a demigod with no plans and an eternity to hide in. Only monsters, and at least you can hit them without having to worry about legal representation. Never thought the real life equivalent of Cthulu would be simultaneously a bastard and the one person I needed to meet. Ain't that some shit.

Freezing. Freezing in a desert. Now I know how the Swedes feel.

Maybe I left everyone behind. Maybe they cried, and put together search parties, and wondered how their little boy got lost. Maybe they found the skeleton in the burnt out wreck that used to be my car and buried it with a tombstone bearing my name. Rest in piece windshield girl, you served a higher cause. Maybe they'd wonder who stole all the money from my bank account. Maybe they thought I got away. Not that I'd know, I was in the habour, in what little clothes I could either steal from a donations bin and buy from Myer, sneaking into a cargo container.

So that's how I found myself here. Hide in plain sight. Scope out a mark. Always be on the lookout for foes. Transform, feel the rush of heat as you become something more than human, but human no more. Smash all their filing cabinets, computers, whatever looks like it'd be a pain in the arse for management. Leave a trail into a dead end. Walk out the over side of the alley and ask with bright eyes where the closest train station is. What a nice girl they think. Fuckers don't even notice when I take the wallet either. Never even knew I was a natural pickpocket, but I guess the cloth ropes help. The thing about magic is you stop giving a shit about rules. Not to mention the scorching hot deals on offer are a whole lot better when you pay with a swift uppercut.

Enough of this freezing bullshit. I'm going home. No, not that one. The one in my head.

One moment, endless tracks and long night ahead. The next, warm noodles and soft sheets while the sun sets on a park with orange leaves. After the last half hour, it's like a furnace in here.

It's not much of a life, but it's better than the one I left behind. Not to mention the hot body, sick burns and awesome fire puns. I'