Indrid
Species: Moth
Height: 28’6”
Appearance: Carries an obscenely obese frame that mostly accumulates in her stomach, which is heavy enough that it always mashes heavily against the floor. Down to her skin, wings and hair, Indrid’s body is washed entirely in a nightly black, save for her eyes, which glow a blood red even in the brightest light. Hair is done in a messy pixie cut. Has two arms and two legs.
Once only the size of a stout-bodied human, the target of many a sneer from her superiors at the thought surviving any further than her first battle, Indrid would eventually gorge herself into a size with all the luxurious curves of an oversized wrecking ball and establish herself as one of the most feared fighters to climb the ASL’s social ladder, a title that pleases her all too well, considering that she literally eats fear. Despite rarely ever raising her voice, Indrid possesses a menace that can be felt from across the room, possessing an array of supernatural abilities that, aside from making her a top-notch fighter despite her size, enables her to describe deeply personal information of people she’d only just met, and her powers reach frighteningly potent levels in total darkness.
In terms of training and labor, Indrid doesn’t really have much use for humans, but nonetheless exploits them by inflicting constant mental and physical torment on them in order to consume and grow off of their terror; she always insists on them sleeping in the same bed as her, not out of affection, but to always be assured that their last waking moments in the day are spent listening to her whisper their greatest fears into their ears, and that their dreams are nightmares of her, so she may thrive off of them even in the dream realm. Should a human manage to brave up to her torture sessions, she merely tosses them away by eating them so she can thrive off of their fear of death, bloating her up to even more gargantuan proportions.
Veronica
Species: Wasp
Height: 29’7”
Appearance: Black and yellow-striped, with long, cascading locks of swirling hair the color of dark chocolate. Veronica possesses a stomach and pair of breasts that to a human’s size would befit a lady weighing eight-hundred pounds, yet both are compromised by hulking legs and a titanic ass that make it a slaving task to haul her off the ground during her glutting sessions, but makes for a tremendous weapon in the ring that can knock down and smother even some of the largest fighters in the silver division, also shelving a stinger the size of a small house. Is middle aged, but can pass for twenty years younger, aside from some crow’s feet and the occasional graying hair. Like Indrid, she has two arms and two legs.
A queen more in spirit than in blood, Veronica lives in a sense of self-worth and avarice unseen even by many in the gold division, always gorging herself on honey that covers her like treesap. She may not a legitimate queen by any means, but nonetheless carries a constant need for food, washing, pampering, and ‘man meat’ to have squashed nightly beneath her titanic mass that she could easily pass, even on the few occasions where she doesn’t use her ‘best plaything’ on her servants.
Always capped off whenever she’s placed into a fight, so as not to give her an unfair advantage, Veronica’s stinger possesses a bizarre strain of venom that reduces any victim it’s inflicted on but a passenger in their own brain, reduced to watching as their arms and legs are manipulated to whatever command comes from Veronica’s moth, robbed even of the privilege of screaming for help as their mouths autonomically sing her the holiest of praises...
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