Beck
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The Lady in Yellow : Chimerical Automaton (Level 5 Chimera)
Tall and impeccably constructed, The Lady in Yellow is a faceless, ladylike automaton clad in a sharply tailored Victorian-style yellow suit. Her jacket is tightly fitted, buttoned with brass clasps etched with arcane symbols, and her trousers are pressed with precise, almost inhuman symmetry. A high, stiff collar encircles her porcelain neck, and fine lace gloves cover her long mechanical hands. The entire ensemble is a faded, golden mustard hue, sun-worn and slightly moth-eaten in places, but immaculately maintained.
Her head is smooth and mask-like, made of polished ivory ceramic with no facial features beyond a faint suggestion of where a smile might have been etched and then forgotten. Her "hair" is hidden under a large yellow hat, very avant-garde.
The Lady in Yellow is Beck’s ever-present shadow. A silent guardian who moves with eerie precision and an air of restrained threat. She discourages unwanted chimerical attention with subtle gestures: turning her faceless head toward a nuisance and tilting it ever so slightly, folding her hands just so, stepping forward with one click of her brass boot-heel. Chimera take the hint. She is a protector, an emotional ballast, and a walking piece of performance art. She does not speak, but her presence conveys a message: Not now. Not for you.
Wards Off Lesser Chimera: Her presence radiates a quiet command that drives off curious or unruly dream-creatures. It’s not an aura of hostility, it is more the strict presence of a stern school marm.
Alternate Forms: A yellow hot air balloon and a yellow steampowered penny-farthing.
Robots in disguise!

Bexilion's fae mein is pure goblin brilliance barely contained in velvet and brass. Their skin is ruddy, flushed like fired clay, peppered with splotchy cherry-red spirals that spatter across their cheeks, arms, and the bridge of their nose like splashed paint. Their ears are large and pointed, unmistakably goblin-like, flaring out from their head.
Their hair is a messy white mop, thick and untamed, perpetually tousled as if they’ve just stuck their head in a wind tunnel or exploded a gearbox. Streaks of soot or powdered glamour often dust it, and they've never once bothered to tame it.
Their build remains wiry and twitchy, a bundle of kinetic energy in elegant drag. Every movement is precise, even when it looks accidental. Their hands are calloused and stained with brass and ink, fingers always twitching like they’re imagining a wrench or a soldering iron between them.
Despite the rugged skin and chaotic hair, they wear a midnight blue velvet waistcoat with long tails, paired with a crisply fitted shirt and a bronze ascot, tied like a riddle around their throat. Accessories lean heavily into steampunk whimsy like clockwork brooches, adjustable sleeve gadgets, and one glove with finger-joint etched schematics.
Their eyes, pale blue and impossibly intense, crackle with intellect and inspiration.