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Who is BWC[]
They're pretty damn lewd, that's who they are.
History and Biography[]
Intelligent and beautiful, she has grown into a prime businesswoman, cornering the market on the medical field. Their slogan has spread through most of the Western world, taking the name of BWC Co., utilizing a marketing campaign of “Because We Care!” as the prime drama for patients.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes, she utilizes the funds from her medical research to fund her other project, a corporation that she owns behind several subsidiaries to discourage any connections. Her other creation, Zenic Co., is the real backbone of her wealth. Successful military contracts and unethical research has led to many black-market deals behind closed doors, several briberies, and one unconfirmed death linked to the corporation after an investigation was begun.
With these two areas of funding, she is currently a very influential woman in the modern world, on the cover of many widespread magazines, her name spreading like wildfire.
Background[]
Long, long ago, there was once a village that sat overlooking the sea. A little girl, her name forgotten to time, would sit outside the hut of her family, and watch the waves crash against the rocks. She would be fascinated by the rhythmic pounding, as they ceaselessly battered against the coastline.
But she was not the only child of this village. No, there were many. The population of the village was greater than any other on the continent according to many travelers, and the villagers were quite proud of this fact. It was beautiful, and happy with a thriving community and fertile soil. None thought anything could ever disturb the quaint town that had built up over the years, and the land would remain lush for many, many years afterward.
But then men came, dressed in some sort of ceremonial robe. They would be followed by two flanking members of their most elite soldiers, garnered in the highest quality armor available. The men marched into the village. For the first time, the little girl watching the waves turned her gaze and watched the men storm into the chieftain’s home.
The men had come to make a ludicrous demand. They desired the children of the village, but not simply the children, all of the female children that the village currently protected. They demanded this, and said that if their demands were not met then they would take them by force, and take the lives of the villagers as compensation for wasted time.
Now, you must understand, this was a prosperous community. They trained their soldiers in the art of combat daily, and relied on other allies for reinforcements when necessary. So they refused, and forced the men to leave. Just in case, a courier was dispatched to the neighboring villages to ask for aid in case the men returned.
The men unfortunately, remained waiting on the road to the other villages. The courier never made a sound as he died, and the body remains hidden in the ground to this very day.
The attack came at night, several days later.
She awoke to smoke. Fire. Screaming. Rushing out of bed, she came to realize that she was the only one in the hut. Worried, she ran out of the house to find that the town was in flames. Villagers were being slaughtered in the streets, and getting run down by horses. Crying and mad with worry for her family, she rushed into the commotion.
Calling out for her mother and father, she ran throughout the burning ruins, dodging the soldiers and their swords. All she had on was her nightgown, and a little bear that she cuddled when she was scared. All she had was her tears, as she tripped over the bodies of friends and other children that she knew from the schoolhouse. A man reached for her, as a sword bisected him as a soldier passed on a horse. Intestines coiled out like fat snakes, becoming engulfed in flames as his wife madly hugged the entrails, becoming decapitated herself.
She barely could remember anything of that night, except only of the smoke and fire. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, but she did not die. It would have been better perhaps, if she did. One moment, she was running through the town frantically searching for her mother and father, the next she found herself lifted up onto a horse, and into a sack. She tossed and tumbled, breaking her arm in the process, screaming with pain.
Soon after, she fell unconscious in the sack.
She awoke in an unfamiliar place, a stone cell. It seemed to be a prison, and in all the cells were little girls just like her. There wasn’t a single boy among them, and even then, there still weren’t all of the girls from the town present in the cells. Not all of them had escaped from the sword and fire.
Those same men in the ceremonial robes reappeared. They announced themselves as the Guardians of Sorrow, and apologized for the treatment that the children had received, and the treatment that was soon to come. The children screamed out for them to be let go, for them to see their family, asking where they were, what was happening, but it was all ignored as the Guardians continued.
The children were there to be given the highest honor, the Guardians said, for they were to become as strong and mighty as the fiercest dragon of legend. It would be a mighty sacrifice for the true lord, Sovereign Dulain, God of Blood and Sacrifice. They were to become the sacrifice meant to appease their lord, and grant his followers everlasting immortality for such an offering.
The process, they explained, would take many years. It would be grueling. Mind-breaking. Fatal. But to rejoice, they exclaimed, as you would become stronger then you ever had before right at the end. Those who died would fuel those who lived, and set an ever growing line to tread. The lives as the children knew them were over, or as they were to be referred to from now on, The Chosen.
The process would begin immediately, and then their new masters left the room. The soldiers then entered, and one by one, dragged each girl out from their cell into the joining hallways, laughing as they did so, nearly breaking arms with the strength as they did so.
Over the next few years, the little girl knew nothing of happiness or joy. There was only suffering. Symbols were tattooed into her flesh with a knife, and the wounds were left untreated to fester. Torture and torment were subject to the girl daily, if she could remember what days were. She would delve into every torturous method possible.
Locked in an iron maiden, as the spikes forced her to jerk and twitch forcing herself onto others, creating more and more holes in her frail body. When they were done, they would tie her hands and legs together and lower her into a pit of rats, cockroaches, and leeches, wherein they would be allowed to feast on the wounds of her body which allowed infection to spread. None of these wounds were treated.
The intercourse was the worst of it. Each of the soldiers seemed to have their own sick twisted sexual desires, forcing the captives to do terrible things to others. One girl was thrown to the dogs, while most were simply violated, tormented, torn apart to be put back together, or simply just taunted by the guards from the outside of their cells.
Captives would return to their cells, drenched in liquids too foul to even understand. The Guardians were right. Minds did break. Captives went insane slowly over the years, bit by bit, and those who did break were thrown to the guards for use beyond schedules means and used until trashed.
The little girl broke in some ways. She forgot her own name. There was hardly anything left of her own personality. Unlike the other captives, she found that she would be given favoritism if she were to act as if she enjoyed it. Eventually, she didn’t even need to act. Some part of her deep down did.
At the age of nineteen, she was one of the few left, though there were more being brought in every day. She felt the symbols on her body burn and sear, as she screamed in her cell. They were drowned out by the cacophony of crying, hysterical laughter, and torture happening elsewhere.
But then it ended.
Suddenly, everything felt different. Her body became hotter, as her body exuded smoke. The change was noted immediately, as guards called for the priests. A crowd slowly gathered as she felt her body twist and change. Her skull felt like it was splitting open, as protrusions slowly erupted from her scalp. A wrenching pain grew in her spine, until there was an audible snap.
The dark prison grew brighter, as her skin suddenly seared completely off, flying off faster than one could blink. Her nude frail body suddenly became youthful, her stamina reinvigorating itself quicker than she could adjust. A pink layer formed over her blood and muscle as her fierce eyes turned towards the cell bars, and roared.
A searing white hot burst of flame blasted at the bars, incinerating the guards. The bars melted away, as she surged out in body of pure fire. Red with rage, she knew nothing but death as her wave of pure anger filled the halls. The captives who were still alive embraced death, as mercifully, they were given painless ends.
Her tormenters however, she flew along the halls of this hall, blasting her way out into the sun. Form shifting, she uttered a wail, as she triggered something that the Guardians of Sorrow, rushing out into the sun to see their creation in feared awe. The Berserk Mode, an act of pure mayhem, activated, as the first use allowed her to completely incinerate the place where she had spent eternal torment. Bricks melted into molten rock and all inside perished.
The little girl, who knew nothing but the pounding of the waves outside their families little hut, had died a long time ago. What was born in her place, would pass out, and then wander from place to place, slowly gathering knowledge. It would become greater than it ever thought possible, and enjoy it all the while, and would also have some pretty damn good sex during her travels.
She took the name of the only solace she found in that cold cell. Carved initials, left by some failed experiment of the Guardians of Sorrow. Another victim, but the only name she could remember.
B.W.C
Powers and Abilities[]
The born magical tendency within them is geared towards fire magic, allowing an almost unlimited array of flaming combinations on any battlefield. Despite this however, there is still a small aptitude for light magic within her body. This has hardly ever seen use, with the exception of an effective intimidation tactic via a blinding light within her retinas. The healing factor on the body is sub-standard, but with the addition of the durable epidermal skin, this is hardly a problem.
Despite being an artificial Dragon Maiden, the girl has the legendary inborn ability of Berserk Mode, allowing for an increase in power, speed, reflexes, and general strength. This does take a toll on the body however, as extreme fatigue can cause a toll on her body if used for long periods of time.
With her scientific knowledge, it seems that she has added another artificial ability to her body, via genetic engineering. A noxious gas is able to be exuded from the pores of her skin at a moment’s notice, creating an extreme aphrodisiac effect on any who inhale the gas. What purpose this is to serve is to her own discretion.
Weaknesses[]
- Holds a profane weakness to most types of magic, in particular, holy magic, which can wreak havoc on her insides without ever having to penetrate the skin. This does not include fire and light however.
- Certain individuals cause the girl to become extremely lustful at the mere sight, resulting in an urge to flee the area.
- Enchanted weapons are able to deal the same amount of damage as magic, especially if infused with holy based magic.
Equipment[]
TBA
Trivia[]
- They have a battle roomba avatar.
- BWC is one of the 'Lewdist' that have visited and explored the A.L.A base. (Others include Artsy, MochaBeetle, and rumors that ZONE visited it.)
- She really enjoys licking people. ( Shiro, Zentreya, Crumbster, Kirbynite among others.)
- bwc66930 is the original, and is the center of the vast growing army of BWCs.
- Gots a cute butt.
- Originally, BWC was a shade of Purple in early designs, but was changed to pink.
- Their tail was originally very different. The current tail was inspired by Dragon Ball Z's Android 21.
- BWC is a very devoted mother, despite the fact she's openly lewd. Her children, Ruki the Rookie and The Ironic Archer have gone missing, sending the dragon maiden into a downward spiral of depression and drinking.
- She is seen as the unofficial leader of the other Dragon Maidens, though not all of them agree on this.
Gallery[]
TBA