Marie Durocher

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   <default>Marie Durocher</default>
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Ms. Durocher is a prominent Practitioner in Ontario.

Personality

Relationships

Durocher is a teacher at the Blue Heron Institute.<ref name=":0">>SAY “She’s fine. Engaged to Ulysse, who’s with Amine. They’re under Durocher.”
Ray: Yes, yes. I know them. Fine.
[...]
>SAY “Afghanistan, apparently. There’s a reason the Devouring Song is so tenacious.”
Ray: Then bring Durocher.
>SAY “Durocher scares me. The weakest practice I’ve seen her use made car alarms go off two blocks away.”
Ray: We’ll need her kind of strength for this.
>SAY “We?”
Ray: All hands on deck. Let’s do this right. That means bringing Durocher and her pre-human divinities. Talk to Alexander while you’re at it. The school is a resource we maintain for just this reason. We’ll use it.
>SAY “They’ll want a piece of the pie.”
Ray: A small piece of something this big is enough. I’m cutting this

lesson short and logging off.  Call Durocher and the other school

staff.
- Bonus Material: SunnyDay Logs </ref> She has at least two apprentices, Amine and Ulysse.<ref>Amine was with Ulysse. They were Durocher’s apprentices - excerpt from Out on a Limb 3.z</ref><ref name=":0" />

Appearance

She's unusually tall, thin, and wears her hair in uneven bangs. She wears a crude necklace of fossils and glassy stones.<ref>Ms. Durocher was of a height with Ray, but seemed taller because the height was in defiance of so much else about her appearance, and it was unusual in a woman. She was underweight, with a smile that couldn’t help but seem insecure or uneven, and her bangs that didn’t fit with her

relatively fine, thin hair, draping across her forehead in an uneven

curtain. She wore a black top with a red jacket, and a rather blocky necklace of fossils and glassy stones framed the divide between jacket and top, somehow picking up both the black and the red. Her skirt came to calf length. - excerpt from Out on a Limb 3.z</ref>

Abilities and Art

She specialises in Primevals<ref name=":0" /> and Greater Powers generally. Her practices tend to be very potent and cause widespread damage. She can, with some damage to herself, summon a Primeval scavenger in combat and speak their inhuman language.<ref>“Durocher,” Ray said.
The thin, tall woman stepped forward. She put her hand out, but stopped short of crossing the barrier they’d erected when drawing the circle.
She began making noises, guttural, growling, each one something Zed could imagine would be painful to make, disjointed. Her eyes opened wider, and she spoke that guttural, painful language with a violence that made spit fleck and froth at the corners of her mouth, the sounds coming faster and faster.
[...]
Ms. Durocher screamed, and it was as violent and raw a sound as everything else she’d strung together. Zed heard the glass case of his music player at his hip cracking.
Something halfway across the field detonated. Two of the more ramshackle buildings on either side of the field tumbled to the ground.
A fissure, with plumes of dust spreading skyward. In the midst of it

was something that defied easy classification.  It looked like a

particularly ghastly tree that could be mistaken for a massive wild animal in the wrong light, but it moved. Like how a crocodile could be mistaken for a log, or a mangy dog with matted fur could look like fungus was growing on it. Animal, but no one animal in particular. If it was just predator, it was a bit of everything that made every predator in existence special, from face shape to frame to the patterns that ran along it. If it was just scavenger, it was everything from the

face of a hyena to the flayed head of a vulture to something insect,

all blended together- and that would be only the head. The dust hid most of it.
When it unfolded, moved, and attacked, it did so with joints moving the wrong way, it rose up until it looked like it had reached its full height, then surged, shifting, in a way that suggested only one part of a

greater whole had emerged, like the hand with a whole arm following.  A
tongue that looked like it had been dragged through dirt until it was

scabbed and raw reached out and dragged forty or so children into a fanged hole in its center.
It screamed, in that same language Ms. Durocher had spoken, and she leaned forward, eyes closed, fingernails digging into the skin of her throat and collarbone, a rictus grin on her face. Amine supported her to keep her standing.
- excerpt from Out on a Limb 3.z </ref>

References