Post by Larza on Aug 28, 2006 15:44:03 GMT
Name: Larza Kalli Willson
Codename: Haze
Age: 19
Mutation:
Physical Description:
Personality: Larza is, in few words, utterly pysco. But she doesn't realize this, or believe it, if told. Has no qualms against killing, if she's got a reason for it, yet she's very against he random slaugher of people for no reaon. She's got severe issues with close human contact, especally males. Yet, at the same time, she tends to flirt, and is a very playful, generally eccentric girl. She tends to respond to people with sarcasm, dark-themed humor, and the like, and enjoys surprising people, usually in fairly odd ways (like giving them an eyeball in a bag for a "souvineir"). She's confident in herself, and doesn't much care what people think.
Background: Larza was born to a dysfunctional family, which quickly fell apart with the new addition's arrival. Eventuall, she was put into the foster-care system, and was ounced around from bad home to bad home. She was sexually abused from the time she was 9 until she was 16, when her powers manifested. When she was 14, she tried to kill herself, but failed. At 16, in a struggle against her foster father, she killed him, and then fled. She moved north, and ran with a gang for a time in New York, until they were caught. She managed to stay away from hte law, and took up freelance assassination - it was good money, and , with her abilities, fairly simple.
She's been hired to kill Magneto.
Current Affiliation
Unaffiliated (I intend for her ot be in the Brotherhood, eventually)
Sample: (Copied from another site.
Silently, the dark-clad assassin moved into the darkened alleyway. It was nearing three in the morning, but she had work to do.
She moved to a window that overlooked teh alley, and pressed a half-gloved hand against it gently. It slid open inwards with a mild creaking sound, and she froze, sending a tendril of empathy into the building.
No sense of alarm. Nothing but a single male's presence, and he seemed to be either asleep, or nearing sleep.
Good.
She pushed the window the rest of the way open, and climbed inside easily. Inside the building, it smelled like mold, rat urine, cigarette smoke, and some form of drugs.
With a disgusted look, she stepped out of the hallway she'd come into, into a large room that seemed to serve as a living room/office place.
A man sat at the desk, his head on the keyboard. He was snoring loudly. Annoyingly.
She smirked to herself. For someone so hard to track down, he wasn't goign to be hard to kill.
One blade, and he was dead. His annoying snoring stopped abruptly, to her relief, and she removed the bloody blade from his body, putting it in a pocket specifically for the blades, which hung at her belt.
Moments later, haking her head, she moved out of the house, leaving via the front door this time. No one would see her, and if they did, they could deal with it.
Or get a blade in their head.
Same difference.
She had gone ahead and snagged the man's wallet, leaving his credit cards and such on the desk. She also took a small, sharpend knife that had been laying on the desk. It had caught her fancy, so she'd taken it.
Other than that, he had nothing of value or interest to her.
Humming a song she'd heard earlier as she moved down the street, she seemed like a perfectly normal pedestrian, out for a stroll. Sort of. Like a gothic, black leather jumpsuit-wearing pedestrian.
Same difference.
WESTCHESTER
Codename: Haze
Age: 19
Mutation:
- Blades - created from her blood iron, are fired from her palms. (drains blood iron, if she uses too many, which makes her weak, and eventually pass out)
- Emapthy - fairly strong
- Minor healing factor (heals damage done by firing blades, as it's primary purpose. General healing time iss ped up a little, for other wounds, but not by much)
Physical Description:
- Hair: Dark brown, waist-length w/jawlength bangs, usually in her face.
- Eyes: Silver/grey
- Build: Slim, athletic/model-like build. Underweight.
- Style: Gothic
- Other: Scars across her palms (from blade-firing), thin scars from heel of hands to near elbows, on both wrists/arms.
Personality: Larza is, in few words, utterly pysco. But she doesn't realize this, or believe it, if told. Has no qualms against killing, if she's got a reason for it, yet she's very against he random slaugher of people for no reaon. She's got severe issues with close human contact, especally males. Yet, at the same time, she tends to flirt, and is a very playful, generally eccentric girl. She tends to respond to people with sarcasm, dark-themed humor, and the like, and enjoys surprising people, usually in fairly odd ways (like giving them an eyeball in a bag for a "souvineir"). She's confident in herself, and doesn't much care what people think.
Background: Larza was born to a dysfunctional family, which quickly fell apart with the new addition's arrival. Eventuall, she was put into the foster-care system, and was ounced around from bad home to bad home. She was sexually abused from the time she was 9 until she was 16, when her powers manifested. When she was 14, she tried to kill herself, but failed. At 16, in a struggle against her foster father, she killed him, and then fled. She moved north, and ran with a gang for a time in New York, until they were caught. She managed to stay away from hte law, and took up freelance assassination - it was good money, and , with her abilities, fairly simple.
She's been hired to kill Magneto.
Current Affiliation
Unaffiliated (I intend for her ot be in the Brotherhood, eventually)
Sample: (Copied from another site.
Silently, the dark-clad assassin moved into the darkened alleyway. It was nearing three in the morning, but she had work to do.
She moved to a window that overlooked teh alley, and pressed a half-gloved hand against it gently. It slid open inwards with a mild creaking sound, and she froze, sending a tendril of empathy into the building.
No sense of alarm. Nothing but a single male's presence, and he seemed to be either asleep, or nearing sleep.
Good.
She pushed the window the rest of the way open, and climbed inside easily. Inside the building, it smelled like mold, rat urine, cigarette smoke, and some form of drugs.
With a disgusted look, she stepped out of the hallway she'd come into, into a large room that seemed to serve as a living room/office place.
A man sat at the desk, his head on the keyboard. He was snoring loudly. Annoyingly.
She smirked to herself. For someone so hard to track down, he wasn't goign to be hard to kill.
One blade, and he was dead. His annoying snoring stopped abruptly, to her relief, and she removed the bloody blade from his body, putting it in a pocket specifically for the blades, which hung at her belt.
Moments later, haking her head, she moved out of the house, leaving via the front door this time. No one would see her, and if they did, they could deal with it.
Or get a blade in their head.
Same difference.
She had gone ahead and snagged the man's wallet, leaving his credit cards and such on the desk. She also took a small, sharpend knife that had been laying on the desk. It had caught her fancy, so she'd taken it.
Other than that, he had nothing of value or interest to her.
Humming a song she'd heard earlier as she moved down the street, she seemed like a perfectly normal pedestrian, out for a stroll. Sort of. Like a gothic, black leather jumpsuit-wearing pedestrian.
Same difference.
WESTCHESTER
