Description
~;The Basics;~
Name: Rhage
Origin: European
Species: Succubus
Classification: Anger
Gender: Female
Age: 172.5 Years
Age Apparent: 22
Birthday: July 7th,
Sign: Cancer
Patron God: Loki
Relationship Status: Single
Past Relationship Status: Single
Reason: It's hard to get close to a female who's only real reason she lives is to piss people off.
~;At First Glance..;~
Height: 5'4"
Weight:115.74 pounds
Build: Small, semi-athletic.
~;A closer look;~
Although the female's appearance may fluctuate based upon if she has fed or not, the girl is always of medium height. When she is well fed her blakc hair falls down to her waist, either tangled strands or well groomed, lazily curling ones. Dark green eyes, dancing with mirth and cruelty. High cheekbones, small nose, stubborn pointed chin and thin, pale, lips. Long, lithe digits and small white teeth.
The woman is, generally, clothed in items of the current time period. A set of cut-off capri camo pants with tons of pockets, a long white tank top and a dark brown bomber jacket. She wears a pair of black tenny shoes or a pair of lace up brown boots.
Personality
Obviously, this part varies depending on whom she is targeting or attempting to get a rise out of. She always seems to carry an air of mischief, though.
History
Many people say that when the succubi are born they come from the dreams a yearning of desire that mankind has creatures. That each dreamer who yearns as such, and is willing to give up their own soul for their dream, creates a new succubi. Rhage is not such a creature. She is more of flesh and blood and fiery passion than any of the succubi born from the sexual dreams of other humans.
Rhage was born an empath with an affinity for anger. Being a peasant, she was bombarded with a near constant supply of this emotion and began to crave it, casting off responsibility and manners in order to magnify the emotion that she had grown addicted to.
Yet she was only a human and, at 22 years of age, her habit of magnification of anger put her in mortal anger. He was a blacksmith and had grown angered at a twisted piece of metal that was meant to be-- something. It was so twisted, and coiled, that he couldn't straighten it out at first, and his annoyance quickly twisted into anger as he heard Rhage's high pitched giggles. A slip of a girl- mocking him! Well, he twisted, hammer in hand, and stalked round his shop, looking for her. She was soaking his anger up, loving it- enjoying it.
And then he died. No, Rhage did not cause it. His heart had stopped working and, somehow, when his soul left to flee his body, it flowed into Rhage. Twisting, transforming her..Changing her. After that, for the death of the blacksmith had frightened the poor empath, she had tried to not aggravate people- isolation herself from others.
Her body got weaker, skin stretching taunt over delicate bones. She was close to death and, upon hobbling out towards a hospital, she got a taste of the near perfect rage of a woman wronged and slipped back to perfect health..
Ever since then she had fed from the negative emotion- not seeming to age, dipping her hand into the sands of time, helping along a riot here or there.
She was-- living.
So begins...
“
[] Rhage stood, on the oppisite side of the mat, her head tilted to the side and her hair done up in a braid, which was tucked into the back of her medium sized t-shirt, keeping it close to her skin and without grabbing reach. Her arms where by her sides, fingers curled into loose fists and her feet where slightly parted, weight leaning more on her left foot (positioned more behind her) for quick movements.[]
”
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[] Rhage did not move, for she found no reason to yet. Conserve her energy for when it was needed. The young woman rested emerald orbs upon the slow moving samurai, without the doubt that, if he needed to, he could move fast. Lips quirked upwards slightly as she waited, lips pursed and breath easing from her, deep and steady.[]
”
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She's..Vampire Feral. >>)
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Aw fuck. My desk just broke. ><)
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It's holding my computer up.
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Rion was not fighitng with you.)
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Though he SHOULD HAVE)
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He was simply killing the way you wher- -.-)
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Rhage bangs her head on Penta.
“
[] Rhage found it a bit silly how that man had decided to run with such a small distance between them. Five feet was not enough space to get that good of momentum. Shaking her head, Rhage moved herself to the right in a graceful dance like moved that used her back foot as a base, pushing off from it to toss her aside. Watching the samurai move past her, since she guessed he wouldn't be able to stop so soon, she slipped her foot in behind the katanna, which was up anyway, and in front of his foot, expecting him to go FLYING onto his damned face. []
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Penta, you seemed stressed - do we need to have another session? Remember, it's only 50 bucks.)
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I would be if I had to deal with that idiot as well.)
”