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Clarissa Sears
Topic Started: Feb 27 2010, 04:50 PM (564 Views)
Scythe

Character Name: Clarissa Sears
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 146 lbs
Description or Image of Character Appearance: Clarissa generally wears long sleeves and long pants, even during the summer, though she prefers thinner materials that breath well during the hotter portions of the year. She has a preference, an affinity really, for darker blues, purples, and blacks, but tends to reject this in favor of warm reds, and lighter blues. She tends to wear her sleeves an inch or two too long, covering over her palm and the back of her hand, just her fingers emerging past the end of the cuff.

Her affinity for long sleeves and pants is not a comfort preference. In fact, she finds it most uncomfortable during the summer months, but it hides the network of tattoos that cover a great deal of her body. While her face and chest are free from their touch, the flowing black and purple lines emerge out from her spine in intricate, jagged swirls. They extend down her thighs and up over her shoulders, winding around her limbs before ending in elaborate knots around her wrists and ankles which spill over onto the base of her hands and the top of her feet.

Beneath the tattoos her skin is a permanent, deep tan, completely uniform as though she was constantly sunning herself or spent a large amount of time in tanning beds.

Clarissa has fast growing black hair, usually trimmed back to about shoulder length, and dark purple eyes. Her features feature some of the softness common to youth, but to a lesser degree than one would expect for her age. While not gruff or worn, her face, her form holds a certain suggestion of forced adulthood, of efforts far greater than most her age.

Outside of those details, she is generally fit and healthy, a well toned, lightly muscled form.

Occupation: Student
Grade Level: 10th
Alignment: Neutral
Powers/Abilities: In her basic state Clarissa appears to be little more than a mostly average, post pubescent, sixteen year old, though she is in pretty good shape. In actuality she is substantially stronger and more durable than a human has any right to be, as well as benefiting from substantially more rapid reflexes. She is also in possession of a moderate healing factor, allowing her to be functionally tireless in short spurts, as well as allowing her to recover from otherwise crippling injuries in a matter of days to a week. She, additionally, his highly resistant to all forms of mental invasion and alteration, and is functionally immune to possession or possession like phenomenon.

With a cry of "Roar Out" however she can call upon her true powers. The tattoos on her body bleed out from it, bleeding through clothing, bindings, or anything else that happens to be against her skin at the time, wiping away all external contact, replacing it and expanding. First into a deep purple body suit, covering everything from her neck down, except for a slit that runs from the throat at the front of the suit to the base of her torso, with integrated black boots. The color bleeds from her hair, leaving it gray-white, a black choker appearing on her neck, along with matching wristbands, each with a small ebony circle inscribed with a roaring lion's head. A line of four black metal ridges, side to side, pull themselves up on the back of her palms, as a purple belt with a carved lion buckle slides around her waist.

In this get up Clarissa is significantly faster and stronger than usual. This, as well as the potency of her other supernatural abilities are increased or weakened greatly based largely on her own self image. Despair and self loathing hinder her fighting ability greatly, while personal certainty and self confidence can greatly expand her abilities. In cases were it is both absolutely necessary that she do something, and she is absolutely certain that she can, in fact, get it done she is capable of truly titanic feats.

Outside of mere physical prowess, the transformation grants Clarissa two abilities, as follows:

Lion's Claws: At base, this permits Clarissa to cut things when she strikes open handed. A simple swipe of the hand is enough to gouge flesh or even leave slight lacerations in metal. To truly bring out the potential of this ability, though, she is forced to let her hands actively deform, her fingers elongating as long, black metal claws pull from the suit. With direct contact these are capable of cutting through most metal and metal alloys, rending flesh and bone, as well as damaging things things that would otherwise be resilient or immune to normal physical damage. Additionally, by focusing on a single swipe, Clarissa my 'project' the cut, forming five parallel, linear distortions in the air that cut into whatever they strike, though with less force than the claws can deliver directly.

Lion's Roar: With a call of "Roar Out Louder" Clarissa can unleash what is functionally her 'ultimate' attack. She screams as a gout of pure, black, destructive energy pours from her mouth at a rapid pace in complete silence. This attack is unnerving to witness, in part because of its dampening effect on the noise of the surrounding area, the wave decimating even the sound waves that would pass through it, and additionally due to the purity of its destructive force. Most things struck with it simply cease to be, those partially engulfed have the parts of them struck simply removed, leaving them incomplete, and likely in danger of extreme blood loss. Being the conduit for such power is, of course, immensely unhealthy, and while Clarissa's nature permits her to weild such forces and survive it, only her regenerative factor makes this attack anything but a slow, agonizing suicide. Even so, using it causes extensive strain on her, and multiple uses rapidly render her unable to move, or function much at all until her body can heal.

All of these powers, though, come with a distinct danger. As their source is impure, evil and feral, Clarissa must carefully control her mental state while using her abilities. Failure to do so can easily result in her powers running out of control, and she with them.

Feral Mode: When Clarissa loses control her hair turns back to black, and starts growing rapidly, standing of its own accord, twisting, twining reaching out to grasp those near her. Her eyes glow with a dark purple radiance, giving off a black haze. She is impulsive and unthinking, destructive by nature, first whatever caused her emotional anguish or fury, then, often, moving on to whatever else happens to be in the area. As this form is more 'in sync' with the source of her powers, it is much faster and stronger than she is normally, and is capable of prodigious combat regeneration, small lacerations healing over almost instantly and even deeper injuries being more a nuisance than actually menacing.

Equipment You Have: Clarissa has no special equipment


Personality Description: Clarissa suffers from long standing feelings of alienation. She has been given a deep and extensive understanding of the nature of her origins and of her power, and it is clear, both from this knowledge and merely her own observations about existence, that she simply is not human. That she is, functionally, the only member of her species. Combined with a long standing rejection by her classmates, and the extensive periods she has had to spent quite literally alone fighting the more twisted progeny of her deific father.

In part caused by this feeling she tends to be a little cool and stand-offish. Having been hurt and rejected before, Clarissa is reluctant to permit people close enough to hurt her again, though those who do get her to open up, who do find a closeness with her will find her fiercely loyal. With so few people to connect with she hates to let go of any of those she has found even the inkling of a connection with.

Aside from the rather intense loneliness brought on by her condition, her coolness is also caused by the danger of any extreme 'negative' emotion. Sadness and despair could leave her without her powers when they are most needed, and anger can turn her into a danger far greater than any foe she has yet faced. As such she tries not to feel large amounts of emotion at all, though this is difficult, as her nature causes her emotions to be quite strong.

Clarissa also has a strong dislike for supernatural monsters and other 'exterior' invaders, having spent a significant portion of her life (at least from her point of view) fighting such creatures. Even at the hands of more normal dangers she is reluctant to permit someone to be injured if it is in her abilities to prevent, having sunk so much of her personality and time into defending the world that such actions are almost reflexive.

Also, from time to time she feels a powerful impulse to run. While this can usually be resisted for quite some time, when she is next presented with a nice straight away or an open field she is apt to go bounding off with a grin on her face at near to full tilt.


Personal History: Clarissa's history, like most people's, starts before she was born. However, unlike most people, one of the most defining points of her existence was determined before her birth. She was not specially selected from a set of possible children, nor was she genetically engineered. No, Clarissa has suffered not from the cause of science.

She has suffered from the will and inheritance of her father.

Not her direct father, mind you. He was a decent fellow, all things considered. A relatively pleasant man who did well in life, though early on got involved in a rather strange cult. The worshiped a great beast that existed outside of this world. That prowled around the edges waiting to get in. A great, dark and noble creature that would take dominion over the land.

Unlike many cults their god existed. Much like many cults he was not a kind or friendly god. Far from it, his following was based on deceit, for what he longed to do most of all was devour the people of this world, if he could only find a way in. Cultivating a following was the first step. Strange whispers in their dreams, false promises on the wind. It took him a great deal of time to build his following, but he was confident. The world that has caught his interest was very normal, it had no supernatural elements, no great heroes or magical wars. That made it ideal for his invasion. There was simply no one who could hope to stand against him.

He just needed his way in. The cultists were a good start, in theory, with the conduit opened by their worship, by their prayers, he could send down creatures, little slivers of himself. They would likely be able to do a great deal of damage, and as long as they lived provide a stronger connection to the world, but... But he doubted his cultists would stay loyal for long if he started ripping up their planet so openly, and while powerful, there was a potential for the world's militaries to destroy them. And that would also be a blow to his following, all the worse if the armies started hunting them down and killing them. Just because the world was ideal for invasion did not mean it would be so simple. But he was patient.

Or at least a little.

He decided the best way to bring about what he wanted was to place a scion, an avatar on to the world, a fusion of that world's existence and his own. The process was, in and of itself, simple. A ritual would be preformed on a chosen individual, and the next time they mated it would result in an offspring that had special qualities granted from him. And then, once they had reached physical maturity, he could fill them with his power, make them an extension of himself. The creation would be more than adequate for conquering the world, almost unstoppable even with their technology, and an ideal conduit for sending in monstrous reinforcements.

And so it went. They chose one from among their number, financially stable and good looking, to go out and find a paramour, one of beauty and health and a number of other qualities the god looked for, to help make the ideal offspring. The ritual was preformed, and he was sent on his way.

Clarissa's father did quite well in his search, by most accounts. He met, and in time married a rather well off heiress, beautiful she certainly was, and she stayed in good health, but... But she was strong willed, self determined, and in many ways his equal. She was ideal for him, perhaps, but not at all what the dark god had desired. Though he remained unaware of this for quite some time.

The first inkling he had that not everything had gone smoothly was when she was born. She was born with all of the appropriate signs. Deeply tanned skin, inexplicable health, an a rapid progression towards being able to walk and physical maturity. The problem was... She was female. All of his other avatars had been male, much like himself. Still, that was no sign that she was a failure, and as she grew he had high hopes. She was an impressive physical specimen compared to those around her, leading her to be followed by some, and rejected by many who were jealous of her capacity. As she aged her tan was believed to be artificial, her odd eye color from contacts, her entire existence was assumed to be merely a call for attention, and so many ignored and rejected her.

Still, she had some friends, and she had great freedom in the outdoors. She made due with the warm support of her family, of the myriad of little entertainments one could find in life. All until she reached physical maturity late into the 14th year of her life.

Then all was set in motion. He reached out and touched what was to be his vessel, and began the transfer. Power, knowledge, and the persona of a god, a transformation from young girl to eternal symbol.

The first response was a scream. The human mind was ill made to handle the sudden influx of information, of a mind vastly larger and older than almost any human comprehension. A purple tattoo started to inscribe itself in her, starting from the spine and growing outwards, the mark of his power growing within her. Everything seemed to be going well. Everything seemed to be going perfectly.

And then it stopped.

The change, the transfer stopped, leaving her with knowledge, with power, but not as him, not as an extension of will. He did not understand it, she did not understand it. Was it because she was female? Because she had somehow resisted the change? Neither of them knew, neither of them could divine it, but now she understood her strangeness, and she was starting to understand what would be her destiny.

For in the knowledge she gained was that of his plans, of his intentions, and she knew she could not let him destroy the world she lived in, not only because she was rather fond of some parts of it, but because he would be more than happy to consume her, to reclaim the power lost to him through her.

And so began their battle, he using his connection to her and his followers to send creatures to earth, forced to resort to such methods after the failure of his avatar, and she using what she had gained to destroy what he had sent. Her school attendance and her grades faltered, rumors were that she had fallen in with a "bad crowd" no one knew of what was occurring, except for her father.

The knowledge she had gained let her confront him in his part in this, and he did his best to protect her from her mother's anger, to console her, but little could be done. Her aging was slowed, perhaps stopped, she was uncertain, and she was the connection her opponent needed to send monsters, but at the same time more powerful than those monsters he could send.

It seemed endless, as though she would fight his servants in the shadows of human consciousness forever.

While she managed to struggle through the rest of 9th grade, she could not meet the attendance requirements in 10th. It seemed that her efforts to keep the world safe were going to cost her her place in it. It seemed that was how it would be, her forever the outsider from those she worked to protect.

But then something changed. Their world was swept away in a torrent of shadows and light, and she and the dark lion were dragged away from the world. In some ways she felt content, this was, perhaps, the way the planet would be saved.

At the same time her loneliness deepened. While there had not been many with whom she could associate, they had existed, she had had a life, however meager there. Where could she go now?


Mashed Potatoes? Sometimes! Occasionally, perhaps. The proof is in the pudding seems to be the day this is FINALLY FREAKING FINISHED.
Edited by Scythe, Mar 5 2010, 03:07 AM.
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