Ayant marché pendant des minutes avec le jeune enfant, la figure s'arrêta lentement devant un humble immeuble d'appartements. Les lumières du bâtiment étaient toutes éteintes, pas un signe très encourageant, mais l'enfant se lassait de marcher, et un enfant fatigué n'était pas assez bon pour elle. Ainsi, calmement, la figure tourna vers l'enfant et parla d'un ton doux et jeune.
"Vous pouvez m'appeler Mère, ma fille. Je vais nous trouver un endroit où vous pourrez reposer vos beaux yeux bleus, compris?" Elle l'a racontée à la fille et a frappé sa joue avec le dos de sa main, avant de lui saisir la main et de la conduire à la porte d'entrée de l'immeuble.
"D'accord, Mère. Je suis Annie." La fille a mentionné, ne recevant aucune reconnaissance de la part de Mère.
Dès qu'ils sont arrivés à portée de main, Mère a appuyé sur le bouton d'interphone du concierge. -- Excusez-moi, monsieur, ma fille et moi avons besoin d'un endroit où dormir pour la nuit. Auriez-vous une pièce de rechange qu'on pourrait emprunter?" Elle a demandé gentiment, en s'assurant qu'elle faisait face à la caméra de sécurité comme elle l'a fait. Ses ombres épaisses, après tout, couvraient sa vraie apparence. Après une minute de silence, une voix profonde et rugueuse a été entendue venant de l'interphone.
"Entrez."
Et une fois que la porte a glissé ouverte, ils sont entrés, pour rencontrer un homme qui vise un fusil droit sur eux. Naturellement, Annie s'est cachée derrière Mère, et la femme déguisée a simplement incliné sa tête sur l'homme, tandis qu'elle a concentré son énergie maudite dans les paumes de ses mains, juste au cas où. L'homme, cependant, s'est rapidement retiré et a hurlé quand elle a vu la fille vacillante. "Cette fille a sûrement l'air d'avoir besoin de se détendre pendant un moment. Par ici, ma chère." Il s'est adressé à la fille, souriant.
Peu de temps après, ils s'étaient installés dans une petite chambre avec un lit simple tout aussi petit destiné à un seul visiteur. On leur avait donné à manger et on leur avait offert des vêtements, bien sûr, seule Annie avait pris les vêtements, car il semblait que l'homme aimable avait aussi une jeune fille. Après avoir serré Annie dans ses bras et pris sa bonne nuit, Mère s'est dirigée vers le bureau dans la pièce et, avec une vague de son bras, a fait apparaître un Grimoire usé sur elle. Elle s'assit sur la chaise de bureau et ouvrit le livre, allant tout droit pour la section qui l'intéressait.
"Rituels de sang..."
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Real Name:
Lost to the ages, not even she can remember her own name.
Aliases:
Mother.
Good or evil?:
Her intentions are a mystery to all, but her actions are clearly evil in nature.
Age:
She never directly mentions her age, but she's been around for long.
Gender:
Female.
Race:
Human.
Appearance Normal:
(A picture might be too... Uncomfortable for the eyes.) She's a rotting corpse, with flesh sagging wherever it's left and a starved body with skin serving as a thin layer between bone and air. She still has eyes, a light green in colour and permanently open and dry. She strives to never take off her robe.
Appearance Superhero/villian:

The thick, unnatural shadows cast by the hood and robe generally hide any view of her body. The only exception is with the flash of cameras. The cloak also neutralizes any scent related to herself.
Rivals or Friends:
It's always hard to remember faces and names when you've come across so many.
Powers:
- Time has passed, generations have been born and have died, and Mother is still around. Stories of her apparitions vary widely from culture to culture, but they all end the same way... With a brave hero seeking to vanquish her. Most of the stories end in tragedy, but some heroes come back, claiming success in their mission and showing robes as black as a foggy night sky to their families and friends. Apparitions keep happening, with wildly varying spaces of time going by between alleged successes.
- With the aid of her old, trusty Violin, she seems to be able to control people's feelings and cravings to some extent. While she can't make a grieving person suddenly become happy and optimistic, she can alleviate their pain and make them somewhat curious about her, just enough to get them to wish to know more about her. The control lasts for the whole duration she's playing and for an extra couple minutes.
- She is able to concentrate to such levels that she can harness the power of her curse, being able to use it for a set of purposes. One way she uses it is that she can focus her own grief and cursed life essence onto the palm of her hand, which can then be either a) expelled with incredible force in the form of a beam that pushes her target back quite a bit, or b) keep it in her hand and have a deadly touch. Whenever she touches a person on the body while her energy is focused on her palms, the person will be pushed back in a similar manner to the beam, but if she touches their chest right on the heart, they'll temporarily drop dead (the duration of the death changes between a few minutes to a few hours. Rarely does the target stay dead for days and weeks. When the target comes back to life, all life-threatening injuries will have healed.). The other way she uses her curse is by joining the realm of the ethereal with a quickly muttered incantation, which makes her body and cloak intangible and somewhat translucent. She uses this ethereal form to go through walls and sometimes dodge an attack or two. It takes its toll on her, though, and she currently can't do it more than four times without needing to rest.
Weapons/equipments/items:
- Violin.

- An old dagger she never uses, not even when she needs it.

Strength:
- Immortal: She's been around for a long time and has many times returned from death's embrace.
- Wise... In her own kind of way. Direct result of being around for so long.
- A theoretical master of the Arcane.
- She's felt enough pain for several lifetimes, so much pain in fact, that she's lost much feeling. Nothing short of breaking her bones will give her any physical distress.
Weaknesses:
- Immortal: Being around for so long and seeing so many people close to her die has certainly taken a toll on her, and she misses the days that she could just walk on the streets and kiss the ones she loved, even though she ignores such feelings at all times.
- An orphan's blood negates all of her cursed magic, though only Father knows this, and he won't easily tell anyone, since it's the way that she's been vanquished before by heroes long gone. The knowledge has died with them, and it only lives on in Mother and Father.
- Deny her any contact with orphans for long enough and she'll start getting reckless, aggressive and at the same time... Weak and desperate. The longer she goes with no contact to orphans, the less focused she is and therefore, the less magic she can use.
- Her physical numbness can be used against her. For example, she can't feel injections, and venom can still kill her.
Backstory/Personality:
It is said that a long time ago, before the Inquisition and the Burning of Witches, magic used to be harnessed by a very select group of people. These people took up different jobs in society. Some were mediums, others were doctors and others were scientists and scholars, but some... Some tied their magic to the occult rituals of long gone civilizations. Most of them disappeared from the face of the Earth, and the ones that remained resembled monsters and beings who had to do questionable things to survive. Eventually, they lost most of their memories, and with no one to remind them of who they used to be, the ones left behind slowly slipped deeper and deeper into the roles that the world's civilizations expected them to play.
Stories of a cloaked woman stealing children with her enchanted music to never be seen again do exist in many civilizations, even if they're dismissed as myths in the present.
Mother's last apparition was nearly two hundred years ago, which fits with the latest story related to her, which ended in a brave company of soldiers having vanquished her after a village lost nearly all of their children.