~ L A N A ~ D E S M A R A I S ~
Age: 12
Appearance: Pale almost translucent skin is drawn taught over long, bony limbs. She is of average height for her age and abnormally lanky. At the moment, her hair is groomed and brushed nicely, shining and hanging to her midback. Normally, it is a tangled dark mess--stringy and hanging in mottled clumps. She wears a white dress and hates to take it off despite the fact that it is clearly blood-stained and smudged with dirt and who knows what else. Tiny, almost comedically small, combat boots lace up to her knees while an oversized, navy men's sport's blazer hangs around her shoulders and almost to her knees. Her movements are strange and much like a marionette's doll. Often times, they oscillate wildly between slow and smooth and frightening quick, jolty movements. Deep, horrifying scars and burns cover her body, and her face has been absolutely mutilated. Only remnants of what should be a face are left. She has been taught to wear a mask to hide her horrifying face and does so at all times. Large blue eyes dart quickly and suspiciously from behind the pale ceramic mask, hand-painted with black markings by herself in her fee time. Without her mask, her face is gruesome--most people are unable to look at it without gagging. Her mouth has been cut out entirely, revealing crooked, jagged teeth. Most of her nose is missing, instead leaving two holes which her whistling breath can be heard through. Deep scars on her cheeks and forehead reveal her unholy past.
Personality: Quiet and secretive, she seems like any shy 12 year old upon first sight. She has learned to keep away from people and flinches away from human touch, almost acting like a skittish puppy. She is often caught humming to herself while picking apart flowers or sifting through dirt looking for trinkets, as curious as she is frightening. She isn't a very vocal child when around other people she's not comfortable with, which can be deeply unsettling and frustrating at times, especially when you're trying to get important information from her and all she'll do is stare at you with those eerie blue eyes of hers. Obvious psychological scarring has been inflicted on this small child, matching the physical ones that haunt her frail body. She has an obsession with brightly colored things, and in this wasteland, it isn't often she comes across them. Thus, she has an obsession with blood, and she gleefully spills the crimson liquid from her enemies given the chance. She doesn't attack without warrant, but it doesn't take much to incite a blood bath. If given the order, she kills quickly and mercilessly no matter race, age, size, or creed. She doesn't understands that she is a monster, as she has never known any other way. The only world she has ever known is one that will slaughter you if you don't slaughter them first.
Likes: flowers, music, blood, holding hands
Dislikes: surprises, sudden movements, being physically touched without her prompting
Fears: the darkness and men.
Preferred Weapons: She carries a Katana on her back, as well as two daggers and six throwing stars secretly sheathed around her thigh.
Strength: 0
Perception: 2
Endurance: 0
Charisma: 0
Intelligence: 2
Agility: 2
Luck: 1
Equipment: Katana (2lbs), 2 daggers (3lbs), 6 throwing knives (With a 3 ¼” blade the total weight is only 60 grams each--so about 1lb), a tiny bag of trinkets (1lb)
A 12 year old girl, practically speaking should only be able to carry 25lbs.
Total: 10lbs
Remaining: 15lbs
Base Money Amount: $100
History: She doesn't really know about the War. She was born with a malformed face (most likely due to radiation), and her mother quickly sold her upon this realization. She was purchased by a brutish and sadistic drifter and went through heinous abuse for the first 6 years of her life. All she ever knew was pain, love substituted with unspeakable cruelty. One doesn't withstand so much damage without suffering from it mentally and she could do nothing but mimic her father's unholy antics as she grew. One day, her "father" had been murdered and she was left unattended for a while, fending for herself in this wasteland. She had grown into a ruthless child, so the Legion immediately saw her potential. While they undeniably wanted to use her, it didn't keep them from treating her coldly, convinced she was a monster from her appearance. Since being adopted into the battalion, she has been tested again and again, pitted against impossible foes. She's reigned victorious this entire time. It seems that her father created a rather dangerous little soldier, killing her enemy as quickly and as silently as possible as if it is only second nature to destroy. She fears no pain and doesn't seem to react to it, as if she's become numb to physical affliction.
Sample: Lana sat in a pile of rubble, sifting through the pebbles and decay while looking for something to play with. There were no sounds around her but for the quiet humming seeping from beneath her strange mask. Sitting with her legs splayed, hardly able to know what to do with her long and gangly limbs, she collected shards of glass and placed them in a pouch at her hip. The girl seemed wholly contented by this trivial motion, completely entertained by acting upon her compulsion, her body swaying from side to side as she continued to joyously hum her melodies and sort through rubbage. This disposition didn't last for long, however. Just as her child-sized fingers had latched onto a rather pretty shard of glass, alert zipped through her body. Instantaneously, she went rigid, her head snapping to the side, her humming ceased, and her hand frozen midair. The aura that hovered around her even seemed to become electric as she stared long and hard into the darkness of a building, unmoving and tense, hardly breathing for minute before slowly returning to her things. She pocketed the glass with satisfaction and looked to the sky. Suddenly, a man rushed from the suspicious area she'd been staring at, lurching towards the young girl in what would forever be the biggest mistake of his life. It was all over in a moment--he never stood a chance. She leapt gracefully into the air, easily moving out of his way and slashing gleefully as she flew around him. Before he could turn towards her, he fell, blood pouring from five major arteries. As he gurgled on the ground, she perched herself on his chest, carefully examining his terrified face as the life slowly drained away. "I wish someone would be happy to see me for once," she breathed airily, wistfully watching his face. She used his blood to paint a smile on his lips. He looked like a clown, but Lara was amused. She giggled quietly to herself