Description
Demon:Age died at: 23
Years been 'dead' for: A bit over 2000.
Role: Lyssa's mission is to kill a mortal.
Gender:Female
Crush: None yet.
Unique Ability: Can put ideas into the minds of others.
As a human, Lyssa is a young-looking (twenty something) fair-toned and freckle-speckled woman. She stands about five and a half feet tall, is thin for her age but perfectly proportional. Her hair is long, about halfway down her back, and auburn and her eyes are an unnaturally dark shade of brown. She likes wearing tight-fitting clothes, especially low-cut blouses and short skirts, mostly black in color, though may often be accented with purples. She takes pride in her appearance, mainly because that's how she intends to get the attention of the human she is supposed to kill- so she is always looking clean and her nails are always painted some dark color (mostly purple, it is a color of the human world of which she is quite fond of), and her face is never without an obscene amount of dark eye makeup. She has no scars or wounds on her body at all, but she does have a tattoo- a scorpion on the back of her neck from something she does not remember.
As a demon, Lyssa has two horns protruding from her forehead that are tiny (only about three inches long) solid black and have a slight outward curve. Her eyes become a dull and lifeless black. Everything else about her remains the same.
Personality
Lyssa is a fluid when it comes to personality, it is the trait that makes her the most dangerous- because she is unpredictable. She is just as likely to sneak into a building undercover as she is to seducing the guards to let her in as she is to making a grand entrance. It is not necessarily based on what is most appropriate for the situation as whatever happens to suit her fancy at the time. This, in combination with her ability to plant ideas into the minds of others makes her especially dangerous.
She is a gluttonously evil individual when it comes to all sins- a personification of self-gratification. Lyssa takes what she wants, kills who she wants, seduces who she wants, eats and drinks what she wants and does as she pleases without the consent (or care) of others.
One thing that Lyssa does keep consistent, though, is that she must see any thing through to the end. The time between the start and finish could be ten years- but she will see a promise or threat through until the end.
Equipment
The first thing Lyssa did when she received her mission was establish a home. The technicalities of how she managed to establish a home are irrelevant.
Her home reminds her of her home in Hell, and is designed to do just that- home is where the heart is, after all- with a dark red main color and black wood, a roaring fireplace and red candles- everywhere. Aside from her home, however, she has nothing else to her name as a human. 
History
Lyssa is Celt through and through- or, was. She was born into a tribe that was on the verge of defeat. Her mother was ripe with her the eve before battle, and the local shaman performed a ritual that was intended to bring them a strong male warrior who would rise up and defeat the Greeks entirely. Instead, they received a puny, petite woman. But the Celts loved and feared their gods of nature, so they did not question the gift bestowed upon them. The Shaman instructed them to name their daughter in the tongue of something frightful to their enemy, and after months of observation, they named her Lyssa- or, to the Greeks, "The Underworld". Hell had claimed her before she was born.
Lyssa grew up away from fighting, unlike every other Celtic child, and spent the majority of her time with the Shaman. He taught her everything he knew of their enemy, nature, the world around them, Celtish magics, healing... everything. He was under the assumption that since she was a petite woman, her duty was not fighting. But she was constantly distracted, watching the fighters and other women in the tribe. Lyssa casually suggested a new fighting method to her father one night. During the next day's battle, her method had brought them victory. Not ignorant people, her tribe came home and praised her.
Years went by and it became apparent that Lyssa had a gift of persuasion. This was used to better the tribe- but she had no interest in the tribe dynamics. She felt superior to them, but lived comfortably, and so she hardly fussed about her father leading the tribe. Until she was old enough to procreate.
While other women of the tribe happily popped out children- strong warriors of both sexes- the very thought disgusted Lyssa. It wasn't the technical of the act as much as her father demanding it of her. After all, she viewed herself as the equivalent of a goddess to them, why must she take demands from them? Because she was being disobedient, she was forced into it. Knowing her abilities of persuasion, her lover had her silenced so she couldn't speak during the despicable act. This left her with nothing but a sudden growing hatred deep in her soul.
Exactly six months after, when her tribe was sure she had gotten over it (rape was a common, normal experience in those times) Lyssa struck. Knowing that she could not kill everyone of her tribe, she went to the Greeks, who she knew, could. There, she willingly offered herself in exchange for the absolute destruction of her tribe. Lyssa gave them information, name and all of the battle tactics she had taught the people of her tribe- a perfect recipe for victory.
Her tribe did notice her missing, but it was common for shamans and their apprentices to vanish into the unknown for long periods of time, and so they thought nothing of it. They never had the time to. The Greeks came in the night and silently slit the throat of all Lyssa's tribe members, except her father and her "lover". That night, Lyssa had her revenge on both men in the privacy of her own hovel. She bathed in their blood, and extracted very primitive methods of torture upon them and danced in their screams.
When her revenge was over, she left to live with the Greeks. They were more tolerable than the Celts in regards to regulation, but there was an embedded fear of her from past battles and the association of her name. Lyssa, feeling her life mission was complete, dedicated her life to destruction. After silently killing few, and gloriously killing many, lighting fires and spreading disease, she was eventually caught and impaled. But that wasn't the end of Ritual-damned Lyssa.
When she arrived in Hell, she decided to keep her name, thinking it only appropriate, and continued to spread destruction to all of mankind. Her best friend, (Mist's character), was one of the first people she met and since then, the two have been best friends, and sometimes accomplices in various disasters.
So begins...
From the door of the bar, Lyssa watched the ambulance carry the poor woman away. Her expression fell. It was boring. She needed a plaything.
Then, perfectly, her eyes fell on this guy. There was something intriguing about him, she couldn't quite tell what. It was the same guy who drank that poor girl into, what, a coma? Her long nails drummed on her upper arm, planning how she was going to catch his attention.
A small, high-pitched laugh left her throat with a conceited air. A large drunkard stumbled over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Lyssa raised an eyebrow at him while he grinned at her, his breath reeked of alcohol. Inspiration struck yet again, and she beckoned the man to attack her.
Lyssa fell to the ground under his giant arm, and let out a scream of terror. On her back, she taunted him with her mind to continue his assault.
----
Annette was not fully aware of how large the building was... Or, rather, did not comprehend how long it would take her to "sweep" all of the floors. Fortunately, by the time she got to the tenth floor, she found a board that had the floors arranged by profession. She sighed with relief and checked around the hallway before opening Maxim's information folder.
An agitated, but relieved chuckle swept her. Under his name, it located his floor and cubicle number. It did not take her long to find the elevator, and Annette promptly pushed the button labeled 33. Annette approached the desk of a blonde woman with bouncy hair. Shirley, said her nametag, gave Annette a half-hidden, spiteful once-over. Annette politely ignored it, and smiled politely.
"Good morning, I'm Doctor Smith. One of your employees was checked in to the hospital recently, and I've been instructed to do a sweep of the building." Again, Annette flashed her I.D quickly and stood, waiting for confirmation.
Shirley didn't cave as easily as the first receptionist, though. She looked hard into Annette's eyes, where she was met with complete blankness. When she had enough, Shirley nodded and tilted her heads towards the plethora of neat cubicles. Annette bowed, thanking her, and made her way through the labyrinth of cubicles.
Finally, finally, she found Maxim's cubicle. He was still sitting in front of it, not looking at her. She straightened her back, as if it could get much straighter, and spoke with a clear voice. "Maxim Pierce?" She read from a small name plate on the corner of his cubicle.
"Not from around here, no." Lyssa repeated with her own little devilish grin. Not from around here at all. "But I saw you drink that poor girl off her feet." She nodded her head where the ambulance had vanished.
"Anyways, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind walking me home. It's awfully late, and you seem capable enough." Beneath her seemingly innocent gaze stirred ideas of chaos as a skeleton of a plan started forming together in her head.
---
Annette noticed his explosion of emotion. Some humans got it when faced with an angel in disguise, so she was told, and so she assumed it was. Familiarity was written all over his eyes, but Annette simply did not know him. She must have looked like someone else he knew.
"A-Annette?" He stuttered, still staring at her.
Her spine froze as she quickly ran through her mortal memories; hoping she did not make the dangerous mistake of running into someone who knew her in her past life. Her face remained a blank sheet. Nope, she knew no Maxim.
Smiling at him considerately, she flashed him her I.D. "Doctor Smith. I'd like to ask you a few questions about a co worker who was recently admitted into the hospital, in private if you don't mind."
Without answering him, Lyssa wrapped her arm around his and just started walking. Her apartment was just a few blocks down from the bar... But she had absolutely no intention of bringing this interesting individual to her house. Oh, no. She had other plans for him.
"I'm Lyssa, by the way."
"Sorry, I'm busy right now. Someone else could probably help you with whatever you need."
Annette stared at him blankly. She... hadn't expected that reaction. Not at all. Maybe this wasn't the right approach- what had she been thinking? The poor man had been through a lot! The last thing he needed was to talk more about all of the incidents!
Flustered with herself, Annette drew in a breath and slowly let it out.
"Maxim, it is very important that I speak to you in private. Now." She no longer sounded like a curious, inquisitive doctor, but more like a mother, or other figure of obscene amounts of power. When he didn't immediately respond, she leaned in closer to him so only he could hear her. "I understand that you've been dealing with a lot..." Suddenly, something struck her gut. Intuitively, she continued, "I know they are things that I can't begin to understand, but I need your help."
On the surface, she had absolutely no idea why she was saying those words. She just let her mind work its magic, even if she couldn't entirely understand what it was going after.
===
"Me? Oh, the south." She giggled at her own little inside joke. Maybe she wouldn't have to get her hands dirty, after all. Not that she minded, not one little bit.
"You intrigue me as well." Lyssa admitted. She led him right past her apartment complex. Oops. Looks like they'd be taking a side trip. Icarus . She silently thought of the name, it had a familiar ring to it. His face reflected that of... something she couldn't quite recall. It was starting to bother her.
"Are you, by chance, of... Greek decent, Icarus?"
Lyssa eyed Icarus wearily, her eyebrow raised. "Neighbors see and hear more than you might think." She insisted, and then waved her hand to dismiss the topic as they approached David's house.
Power. That was what she sensed in him that attracted her. He was a powerfully built man, and probably had other outsources of power. Control. She shivered internally. Maybe she could seduce him with more...
Through the window, one of David's daughters was staring at the sky, not paying attention to the couple standing in front of her house. Lyssa grinned at this golden opportunity.
"You seem like a very important figure, Icarus. Tell me, what do you do?"
"What about you? You seem like you have an interesting profession."
Lyssa's lip twitched into a grin. "I'm a saleswoman, apparently I can be very... persuasive." She turned and faced Icarus.
Across the street, a woman was walking her tiny corkie. Icarus was beginning to bore her, night was for excitement, not bore. Something needed to happen.
"Here, I'll give you a demonstration." She offered, then suddenly yelled a greeting at the woman, who turned then to look at her. Catching her gaze, Lyssa poured her need for entertainment into the poor woman's head.
The woman suddenly dropped her dog's leash and started dancing in a very suggestive series of motions, without seemingly realizing she was in the middle of the neighborhood.
"Needless to say, I'm good at my job." Lyssa locked eyes with Icarus and let her eyes change from their current dark green to their demonic solid black.
"Gladly." Lyssa put her hands on both sides of his face and looked into his eyes, penetrating his mind with the urge, the need to kill David. He was an angel... oh, wasn't this just delicious?
He's a threat to humanity. Lyssa pressed. He must die, it's for the greater good.
She had never tried this on an angel before, but she suspected that since they retained ideals of their mortality, it would work. But she also had no idea for certain. So she dumped all of her mental energy into this. David must die.
Not surprised, Lyssa withdrew her attempts at control and ripped her wrist from his grip.
"Maybe not." Her eyes came back to their mossy green and she took a step away from him, still grinning. "You and your morals are nothing against me. I will win eventually- I always do. How good are you and your morals when I can penetrate the mind of any mortal? Would you kill an innocent human under my influence?"
The woman across the street stopped dancing and started walking to David's house.
While she found it annoying at first that she couldn't control Icarus, this fact provided a new form of excitement for her. She would have fun making him kill what he saw as innocent humans to protect David.
"Goodbye, Icarus." Lyssa turned and ran from the scene just as the woman punched out a window in David's house and started attacking his wife, who was unfortunate enough to be standing closest.
