Raphaela Valencia Shire
Theme Song:
Power of Darkness - Two Steps From Hell
Norwegian Pirate - Two Steps From Hell
Role: Villain 2
Gender: Female, I believe.
Nickname(s)/Alias(es):
R, or just plain old Raphael. (You know, like the Archangel.) Call her anything else and you're pretty much screwed.
Age: 22
Birthday: October 26
Nationality: Canadian
Love Interest: Raphaela? Love? That mental image is a crime against nature itself!
Appearance:
Imagine Raphaela standing at the edge of a cliff, figure strong and confident, amber-turned-golden eyes staring into the horizon like a scene in a typical Chinese drama. (If you know what I'm talking about, highfive! If not, think of --
Within all of Raphaela's Asian-esque stature (no offense), she packs quite the punch. Her long black, sometimes deep purple hair is usually the first trait to notice, followed by ethereal amber-golden eyes. A few seconds later, one would generally process a strong face and all the details in-between; before seeing a lean, practiced body. By that point, before said person got any further, he would have the living hell beat out of him for staring at her for so long. She makes no effort to hide how very feminine she is, but perverted glances are considered death sentences; handed to her on a silver platter. It's probably so to most, even for certain non-villainous females.
One of the only redeeming aspects of her appearance is, because there isn't that much of her, the extreme feather-light state of Raphaela's body. She weighs only 95 to 100lbs on any given day, though there is some sort of realistic reason behind this. Given her lifestyle and career path. she tends to exercise way too much for her own good; and for always at least half of her day. But there really can't be a way out of it, when you're a wanted criminal with a price on your head. Not that, of course, this little Archangel gives a damn. It's horribly convenient for the predator when prey comes to you.
In accordance with the fact that she's hunted almost daily, it's only realistic for Raphaela to bear a couple mementos and scars. A saddening amount of bullet wounds can be found staggered on her back; with the rare remains of a horizontally-slashed knife. Her arms and legs are peppered with burn marks, grazes and, again, the knife scars. The only thing that is relatively untouched is her face, neck and hands; for reasons better left unknown. Raphaela doesn't think much of her gruesome body, nor does she hide; like 'it's only the way of the world'.
And last but not least: first impressions. The first thing people would normally think of, when faced with this child, is that she's
Preferred Clothing:
Raphaela likes to be a contradiction. On a cold, winter day she could be wearing loose shirts; while in hot summers be in that for the winter. There's no real pattern or set preference for this kid; and whoever's seen her more than once invariably knows that she can wear pretty much anything. Be that as it may, one thing to note is that she finds it funny to wear office-type attire in the midst of blowing things up (in other words, being her usual destructive, criminal-record self). So, with that in mind, it's easier to just imagine that she's being semi-formal all the time; rather than alternate between every style out there. In any case, just pretend this is the usual.
Besides that, Raphaela doesn't adorn herself in any kind of accessory; mainly because they break too fast to be bothered. As said before, she doesn't attempt to hide her scars or identity in any way; which is probably why the police find her so quickly. Easily recognizable is an understatement (though note that she doesn't have any tattoos on any part of her body, since there's absolutely no point when she's 'already so obvious').
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 95lbs
Hair Color: Black, sometimes deep purple depending on the lighting and angle
Eye Color: Amber, golden in the sun
Personality:
Like most (probably) of Chaos' underlings, Raphaela isn't the easiest person to get along with. For one, she's as stubborn as a mule; a kid who'd literally throw herself into a ditch to prove her point (that actually happened before. Needless to say, she won the argument). She's only as drastic as the offending person, be it sparking to a diplomatic debate or blowing things up. Because, you know, winning a discussion with words (although rare) holds much more value then, again, blowing things up.
Speaking of spontaneous things, Raphaela has the chronic disease 'disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing'. (Or, in other words, for no reason whatsoever.) This incredibly annoying condition, usually prone in adolescent children, tends to manifest whenever she's in the presence of those that she is utterly disgusted by. (Which, by the way, include most people.) Those who have met her and experienced this affliction (without dying) often associate her with being somewhat like a spoiled brat, although in a mature sort of way. Whenever it manages to act up, irritation and sarcasm start coming in droves; as if some figurative beehive was knocked down, then come the bees (as 'irritation and sarcasm') pouring out in a rage. In actuality, this is really just a self-defense mechanism to fend against who she finds to be 'bad people'. And that just so happens to be, quite frankly, pretty much everyone.
At this point, it may seem like Raphaela often 'digs her own grave', with arguments packed with insubstantial points on her side (leading to the use of brute force). She does oppose many things, but she's not the sort of person to get involved without thorough planning first. This is true for all that she participates in, be it mass murder, threatening, or simply just getting what she wants in the fastest way possible. The very reason the Archangel is still alive today is because she's an absolute perfectionist, allowing herself no room to slip; with no miscalculations, no witnesses and an overabundance of escape routes. If it were realistic, she'd never miss a beat; but nonetheless she's as close as one could ever be. She tries, though not very hard; it comes naturally.
What would normally come with such obsession --the feeling of constant anxiety, and perhaps arrogance-- don't, however, affect Raphaela in the least. She's failed too much, proven by the many scars she shoulders, to even come close to considering that she can reach perfection; or that she should be proud of her innate, incredibly observant nature. Instead of endlessly berating herself (although she still beats herself up for minor mistakes), she's grown to be a little more carefree, indifferent. Stable could be another way of putting it. She's long since put away her expectations and discovered another thrill: the excitement that comes from unexpected, unprecedented outcomes. That life is full of surprises, often amusing resistance and opponents.
Now, you may be wondering just why, exactly, such a sensible kid like Raphaela would be a mass murderer. The gist of the sob story, due to be mentioned later, is that she wanted to be free; to be able to be herself. (Which was pretty much just so she could blow things up, without restraint.
Dedicated, however, doesn't mean that she goes off destroying things all the time; or at least not completely intentionally. Most of Raphaela's every-day rampages come from her skirmishes with headhunters and the police, in which where she pays no heed to her surroundings (especially when her abilities are rather destructive to begin with). Whatever's left are the times when she just 'feels like it', or when forced to work together with a certain giant.
To be frank, Raphaela has always been civil, blatant person. Easily annoyed and usually indifferent, but that's all it is. She doesn't go looking for a fight, unless that's with a certain someone. Her usual calm, rather sarcastic attitude is the same from person to person, be it slightly begrudging (as, to get to this point, one would have to endure her disagreeing at everything) or with natural respect. She's blunt, sometimes difficult, but surprisingly receptive to subtle changes in the mood; kid can be nice when she has to be. She'd get revenge for anyone with a long-term relationship with her, be it an unwilling partnership or welcomed. Raphaela, at the core, isn't so much a bad person; just that she can't help herself anymore.
Anger, though, is different issue altogether. There's a fine line between rage and mere irritation, one which is rarely noticed or tread across. Rather than the usual 'blow things up and be done with it' scenario, Raphaela opts instead to carefully plan a way to inflict the most pain, to create a complete mental breakdown within the offender. Even if it takes longer, perhaps months and maybe years, she'd grind their lives to dust; like a perfect ghost forever haunting. Such drastic measures take the same level of offense to instigate, and with her only loved ones used the first time? It's hard to find a new reason. But something should be there, if she's not yet completely alone.
Oddities:
In the midst of solving a problem, Raphaela becomes increasingly hostile. The appearance of any noise around her, whether it be light footsteps or the equivalent of elephants stampeding, causes such a level of irritation that will literally blow you away. If that doesn't succeed, looks of pure disgust and loathing are shot towards the assumed culprit all the next while; although the explosions stop after the first time. If asked later (of course, once she's finished thinking), she won't remember a thing about it; but it's something better left unmentioned anyway.
She has a habit of playing with random small objects when she's thinking, twirling in her hands a rock, pen, coin or anything else of that sort.
When meeting with other people (for, as she deems, 'insignificant matters'), Raphaela's forever late. She doesn't particularly try, but it tends to naturally turn out that way. She's also left-handed, for anyone who wants to know; and appreciates cursive letters over printed. (Her writing is a little messy, to the point where nobody but she can make anything out. But pretending you can will probably actually get you somewhere, rather than asking.)
Likes:
Oh, Raphaela loves it when people get riled up over her disagreeable attitude. She finds it endlessly amusing, and the agitation comes as wonderful cannon fodder later on; or becomes a quick excuse to start an open, physical fight
Most of all, Raphaela can't help but fall in love with the intense, erupting moment of an explosion; including all the fire and raw power. It's captivating, if not just for the moment, and it's by no means a coincidence that such blasts are the Archangel's very own, trademark brand of destruction. With that in mind, it can't be very surprising that using her abilities this way is a quick, painless solution to many of her negative emotions; the calming mechanism she uses all the time when Izzie turns a perfect day into it's beautiful counterpart: a migraine headache.
Other than that, her material preferences are hard to decipher, since they seem to change all to time while being her difficult self. For instance, she likes the more classical end to music even as she blares other genres like pop and rap
Raphaela also finds the topic of religion, as a whole, funny. Especially Christianity. Hence, why she signs herself off as 'the Archangel', since it's oh so ironic.
Dislikes:
The most obvious one would be, you know, most people. Especially when they run around screaming when Raphaela goes out for dinner. The obnoxious, overly loud type are typically the most talented at asking for a death sentence; just before the stupidly heroic idiots that throw themselves in front of her.
I don't think I even need to mention her relationship with Izzie Vieira. (There's a pretty good description of it in her profile, if you haven't seen it already.) The fact that Izzie is older than her, even by just a year, pushes her buttons to no end.
Although she listens to many things (and I believe I mentioned why), Raphaela rather hates the sound of a female screaming. It's akin to nails on a chalkboard, rubbing styrofoam and things scraping against other things; all of which, by the way, will become a pretty pile of ash/be blown apart if ever heard in her vicinity. High-frequency sounds are just wrong. If you're ever wondering for a way to get this criminal incredibly agitated within seconds, this is probably it; more so than seeing Izzie on a perfect day.
On the milder note, things like getting drenched in water, being hit by a bullet, having to lay low and generally being interrupted can easily put her in a bad mood. Oh, and birds, sudden light, philosophic individuals and those who 'just don't listen' are kind of annoying. If she doesn't make something explode at least once a day, she just doesn't feel right; and most likely, in the following morning, an explosion akin to a miniature volcano eruption balances her previously uneven scale.
In light of the fact that I could probably write a ten-page essay titled 'All the things that should go to hell, according to Raphaela', I'll just stop here. Needless to say, there are a lot of things.
Hobbies:
Raphaela also likes to loot stores that sell electrical appliances in her free time.
Fears/Phobia(s):
Above all else, the thought of being completely alone; of waking up one morning and finding that the world has changed, moved on without her. Raphaela, quite frankly, wouldn't know what to do. After all, without the driving force to destroy things and relationships to (begrudgingly) lean on? She'd be lost, wandering in a dark maze; unable to adapt. This underlying fear goes unnoticed to Raphaela herself, although it acts subconsciously as another reason to keep being a pawn of Chaos. Because, when you're one of the few others in the thick of conflict (demolishing the forces of Order), it's hard to be left behind. With these couple reasons, it's evident that she doesn't particularly think much of the Elemental Six, or even much of Order itself. She's not afraid, not so paranoid of them winning, as long as she's there.
Another, smaller fear is that of losing herself; of becoming so corrupted that, if she looked in the mirror, she wouldn't recognize what she saw. To be honest, Raphaela had been normal once. She'd never meant to be a mass murderer, or ever thought that she'd be so unaffected by what she does. This minor anxiety had sparked the day a similar event had happened; when she'd found that she was hopelessly addicted to being herself, the last attempt she'd ever made to stop being a killer. This uneasiness is a foreshadowing sign, for it's bound to happen sooner or later. Fulfilling it probably wouldn't change anything, besides the last shreds of real humanity that she has left. Raphaela was once afraid of what she would turn into, and the bitter, crushing disappointment has haunted her ever since.
Raphaela only really has one phobia: fear of absolute darkness. She finds being in an environment lacking in light often leads to disorientation; not being able to tell what direction or where, exactly, she is. If shrouded long enough, she could very well go insane; and her paranoia of ghosts/supernatural things become apparent (their existence wouldn't make sense, and that's why it scares her.
Skills:
Cunning. Raphaela's smart, and very observant; she picks things up quickly, barely ever missing a cue. She can read people like a book, it's no coincidence that she often knows exactly what ticks people off within the first few minutes. Her memory is almost perfect, and combined with her visualization skills come the easy formation of battle plans. Her body being lean, she's also quite fit (and with a high-pain tolerance); though with poor upper-body strength, as most of her exercise just includes running around (endurance-based, really). Being small, she can fit into tight spaces and travels quiet. Lose her in an alleyway? Chances are, you won't find her. (Crowds are a whole different matter.)
She's also half Italian, and speaks both English and her mother tongue fluently.
What counts the most? Combat experience. Raphaela's had years to accumulate it all, and can hold more than her own in a fight.
Abilities:
Technopathy:
The ability to 'communicate' with machines: being able to both receive and input information or commands through electrical signals. This makes much of Raphaela's plans possible, when she can instantly jack security systems, cause blackouts and pretty much wreak the most computer-related havoc a criminal could ever hope for. Distractions? Piece of cake. Hacking? No problem. What triggers this power is direct contact with electronics, nothing more, nothing less. When in the process, she shuts her eyes and stays in one place; temporarily closed off from the world. It takes all of her attention to decipher complex signals; even if she can do it within a split-second.
Another use for this ability include creating time bombs, by 'ordering' electronics to overheat. It takes a while for these 'bombs' to explode, which is where the 'time' component could be brought in. It doesn't always work, and it's impossible to predict exactly how long an object takes. A little risky to depend on, but doable nonetheless.
Blowing Things Up:
Raphaela's second, most well-known power is her ability to blow things apart; which usually surfaces on the receiving end of a punch. By some strange circumstances unexplained by physics, she can 'build' some variation of energy within herself and 'transfer' it to an object; causing it to magically explode upon impact. She herself doesn't exactly know how the whole process works, just that the subject of her attention never fails to burst into pieces when she hits said body; if she wants it to. Her explosions tend to escalate in size and power the more irritated she gets, rather than if she tried to hit harder without the feeling (they both usually go hand in hand).
Needless to say, she doesn't get hurt from these blasts. Raphaela often uses this ability in a variety of ways, be it to propel herself forward, rocket-launch into the air, or just make a quick escape through some indiscriminate wall. Kicking up a smoke-covered fog is also possible, by setting things around her on fire. Direct contact (from her fist to your stomach) could easily amount to the opponent being blown back with a few broken bones and a burning shirt; if he managed to be that unprotected. This power is very violent, often amounting in one-hit KO's if she lands a good shot. But, suffice it to say, she couldn't possibly go on forever.
Because, although it doesn't directly hurt her, she still feels the impact that a normal person would. And, even if she doesn't admit it, the constant pressure is crippling, killing her body. Overuse often begins by her violently coughing up blood, with limbs and muscles seizing in spasms the moment she stops moving. Every once in a while, in an especially violent explosion, her arms and legs rip apart. Not the most pleasant experience. Multiple destructive explosions (worthy of felling complete buildings)? She'd be a bloody mess on the floor. Quite frankly, it's just as dangerous to Raphaela as it is to the common person;
From the very beginning, Raphaela had been an accident, a mistake; the forbidden offspring of two incredibly rich teenagers caught up in the spur of a moment. They just wanted to try something new, never having given a thought to any rebounds and implications that could --and did-- happen. Their moment was only for a night, and in the morning they each walked their separate ways; with no feeling of attachment between them whatsoever. They weren't supposed to meet each other again, much less have a child. But life never works out the way it should. When Jen and Alex found the consequences of their one-night stand, their immediate plan was to abort the baby. The operation would be quiet, quick and painless; with nobody knowing the wiser. Their eighteen-year-old reputations would stay untarnished, the threat of a shotgun wedding averted; and then, for sure this time, they certainly wouldn't see each other again.
So, in the days that followed, Jen Valencia and Alan Shire met in secret; often at night. Their scheme was carefully realized, oaths of secrecy obtained mostly by flaunting cheques and their last names. Everything went on smoothly and, just as Jen's belly began to show, they went for the operation cloaked beneath the stars. Ideally, it would've went well; and these two members of the one percent would have lived happily ever after.
As it turned out, family members of both teens intercepted them just at the hospital entrance. Needless to say, they were all angry; and you can't really run when surrounded by black limos. Alex and Jen had no choice but to go along with them, guarded ever so fiercely like criminals. In the end, after an interrogation, bitter disappointment (on their parents' side) and unhealthy amounts of yelling, a compromise was reached for their situation. Although their families didn't want a child or such marriage, they had morals. And, after all, it couldn't hurt to have a back-up kid in case of an unfortunate incident. So an agreement was reached that allowed Raphaela to be born; without a marriage. In fact, neither of the two parents even had to have anything to do with her; what with a surplus of money that could hire people to take care of her.
And that was pretty much how it turned out to be. Raphaela was born and raised by a caretaker, away from both of her real parents; who couldn't so much as send her a birthday present, much less actually visit. She was taught to be a respectable person, in the rare miracle that she just might have to check in to a high-class world. Any explanations for such treatment were diverted, although the idea that her 'family' were paid never occurs to a four-year old. It became quite evident from within the first year that she was smart, startlingly so; quick on the uptake, although with unshakable faith in her 'supervisor'. She never once doubted the fake reality the world above had strewn around her, and it was this which later broke her. But, as of this moment, she was a good kid. An angel. The perfect, mature child.
Nothing could've prepared her for the slow, train-wreck ending. Just days after her thirteenth, or maybe fourteenth birthday
And it worked, at the price of a piece of Raphaela's humanity as the cost. For waiting endlessly, fruitlessly, day by day, crushed and ground her premature self into dust. There were moments where she almost succumbed to depression, if not for the happy memories supporting her all the while; and the blatant denial to die. She knew then, though perhaps not so much now, that she had a whole life left to live. And it was like so, with a sudden, pounding desire to succeed that she got through this time of difficulty; leaving the most blessed time of her days behind to become a miniature adult. Of course, the only thing she didn't realize then was that her feeling of empathy had been shot in the process; from sympathy to mere irritation instead.
Now no longer stuck in a figurative suicidal ditch, Raphaela's everyday activities descended into a routine; quickly spiraling into boredom. Because, having such rich relations, living was never very hard; even if she only had what was left in her fake old family's bank account. There was more than enough to maintain her previous spending habits, and it wasn't like she particularly flung money about everywhere. Coupled with the fact that she didn't really want anything, and how her kindergarten-to-grade-twelve private school never changed, life was kind of dull. It never even occurred to her, nor did she ever notice, that the vast sums in her account increased every couple months; or that a small number of interchanging guards followed her wherever she went. But, in any case, that's the way it was.
Every morning, she'd wake up and go take transit to campus. Then, in the afternoon when that was over, she'd either hang out with similarly rich friends or go straight home. At night, with loads of free time, Raphaela would practice piano like a good kid; or do any rare work left from the morning. Then, after eight hours of sleep, the cycle would repeat. Nothing exciting ever happened like so for two, maybe three years; like she was stuck in the same position. There wasn't much interesting to being the top of her grade, when she had always been there. Before she knew it, this barely sixteen kid began to wish to be different. In the very, very back of her mind, she was hopelessly wishing to leave a mark in the world; be it good or bad, for fear of simply disappearing like her loved ones had just a little while ago.
Then, just like a miracle from heaven (
In any case, this series of unfortunate events began with the appearance of Raphaela's mother, Jen. It wasn't so much the off-chance that an incident had ended up happening, but rather how she finally noticed that Raphaela was just kind of outstanding; academic and charismatic-wise if not athletic. So, as the prospect of training her illegitimate child to become a loyal heir didn't seem like a bad idea (Jen's other kids didn't even compare), she chose to meet up and spill the truth. A sugar-coated truth, to be sure, but facts nonetheless; and this discussion was all that went on in the first day. Raphaela, incredibly fragile and shocked beyond belief, returned to let everything sink in through the night.
This was probably the first time that Chaos whispered in her ear. Murmured lies, twisted the reality into a whole, distorted world from the truth. That her loved, fake parents, to be sure, had been killed. That, if she hadn't even known of her background, there were a multitude of things she still didn't know; even worse than what was confessed. That Raphaela was alone, a fear which she had harbored for years, and that people had never cared for her at all; only for her relations that she hadn't even been aware of. She was going to be thrown away again. She could disappear with a snap of Jen's fingers. Her life was very well not hers to live. She had never once been free. "So, why don't you do something about it?"
Like music to her ears.
In the morning, the moment she saw Jen's now-familiar face, she snapped. Her rage back then, much different than it is now, was literally a volcanic eruption. She blew it all up: her apartment building, the area all around, even melted a good chunk of the road outside. She didn't realize then, as she stood amidst a mushroom cloud explosion, what she had done; what she would end up doing. She was too busy being hypnotized by the brilliant fire that enveloped her and the magical words that Chaos sang to even notice that her body was, from the repercussions of bringing about the largest explosion in her lifetime, completely broken.
And that pretty much made the second day, when she lost all regard for human lives. Who knows how many people were in that complex that day? She ceased to care. The long hospital stay only made her brooding turn for the worse. She came up with reasons, excuses to keep going with what she had started. After that, Raphaela arrived to the conclusion of more revenge, calculating the fall of her father.
But that's a completely different story altogether. The gist? She found a better reason to exist. And, from then to now, she's never stopped moving. Five years later, she found that she can no longer stop. None of Raphaela's reasons make much sense to her anymore, but there isn't much she can do; wound head to toe around Chaos' little finger (if he/she even has one). Two or three years back, she would regret; before she let everything holding her back go. Wiping those happy, first thirteen, perhaps fourteen years of her life clean.
Other: Raphaela doesn't give much of a damn for romance. Not really her thing. But seeing as how men piss her off so much easier and faster than women
All art belongs to their respective owners. (Yume-Rie, akirakirai and wickedAlucard. I don't know who drew the third picture.)
