About
This character is DC based, but can easily be modified for other universes as well such as : Marvel, much of any comic book universe with magic or super powers, Supernatural, Doctor Who, World of Darkness among other table top games.
Feel free to send me a starter in PM or comments at any time.
About the person behind the character: I'm a 23 year old full-time college student also working during the semester, so summer is my main time to be as active as I like. I've been rping (play by post and table tops) for around eleven years now. I'm literate, I para-post, I'm good at working with new-comers if they want the help (so don't be intimidated). Psychological horror is what I specialize in. Lets play! :3
((My previous version wasn't very realistic, and also was a bit OP, so I've made some adjustments.))
This year's Halloween cosplay: For this spectacularly spooky time of year, who better to pull a job with than Scarecrow? Thus the fall theme. This outfit was a lot of fun to make. ^_^ Full outfit at bottom.
Character theme: the dead should be left in the grave, the loneliness of resurrection and what it can drive a girl to do.
Civilian Identity: Rachel Griswald
Codename: Ragady
On record: Rachel Griswald is on record as being deceased, a police investigation was launched but no killers found, her body went missing from the morgue before she could be cremated.
Criminal Record: None on file yet
Gender: Female
Apparent age: 26
Age: 28
Hair: Long and thick (reaches mid-back), light brown with natural blond highlights
Eyes: Green, unsettling
Height and weight: 5'9'' 120 pnds, boney/super thin and somewhat flat chested.
Appearance: Naturally slender, willowy build. She tends to dress in earth tones like shades of brown, office appropriate attire, a bit on the mori-girl/more old fashioned inspired side (but still office appropriate for her old desk job).
Something seems off, however. One arm is a bit longer than the other. There's something wrong, though what can't quite be placed, with her eyes and her smile. Upon closer examination someone might begin to notice the many scars she covers with make-up as best she can. In some places on close examination there are patches where her skin tones don't match.
Abilities: –Raised speaking German and English equally.
-Doesn't seem to feel physical pain. Still takes damage, just doesn’t respond right to it.
-Emotional Manipulation
-triple jointed (not to the same degree as Ragdoll)
-Disquiet, or “Unease/Fear aura”: a range-based empathic ability. Can manipulate said aura to cause:
General unease/disquiet: dissipates through the room, making people generally uneasy and on edge, effect is based on range (how close a person is to her). The use of this ability will disrupt nearby electronic devices like radios, lights, televisions, etc. Can make lights burn out with a strong enough outburst. Grows worse the more upset she is.
Requirements: None, but environment and the state of a person being affected contributes. If they’re already a bit uneasy to begin with, if the environment is spooky, etc.
Limits: Range-based
Corruption: the device re-animating her is demon in origin, and it's not just her own humanity it is quickly draining. Prolonged time spent around her corrupts an individual and gradually drives the good to commit acts of evil.
Hide unease: Must focus and maintain control of her emotions to pass as a normal human, can only maintain this for up to an hour before the unease will start to seep out. Draw Backs: Close observation or skin contact can cause an observant person to know something’s off (though they may not be able to tell what it is).
Enrage: can focus her aura on a specific target and cause it to become enraged, attacking anything near it for a short duration of time.
Requirements: Eye contact, Target should already be emotionally susceptible (already growing or repressing anger), or target should be of lesser intelligence I.E. Animals.
Limits: Particularly to player characters, if target realizes she is manipulating them they can fight it off. Requires a great amount of focus.
Absolute terror: If successful results in target being paralyzed or crumbling with terror.
Requirements: Skin contact, intense concentration specifically on target, if a target is already anxious or is surprised by Rachel this attack has a better success rate.
Draw backs: People of greater will power can recover faster, only effective as long as she maintains skin contact and focus on target.
Can cause heart failure with enough prolonged exposure for low enough ranking NPCs. (plot device).
Equipment: Pointy/sharp objects, tends to have pointy dagger-like scissors on hand or knitting needles.
Origin of Abilities: The device re-animating her, obtained by her brother in a deal with the Demon Neron.
Weaknesses: -No combat or weapons training
-Needs frequent medical attention.
-Needs organ transplants as her current ones fail.
-Not feeling physical pain makes it difficult to keep track of injuries.
-“Unease” aura, should it be pin-pointed to her, can incite violent responses, possibly mobs (particularly in civilians).
-Losing her humanity over time.
-She desperately clings to any potential companionship, which can make her just as easy to manipulate as it makes her dangerous.
Personalty: True self summed up: Cold, calculating, manipulative, sadistic.
The price for resurrection is loneliness. Since being brought back, Rachel doesn't smile like she used to. She's quiet, still, passing for lifeless often. She was always level-headed, now it's hard to tell how much is careful self-control and how much is lack of emotion altogether. When she does manage a true smile, there is something sinister to it which is not always deliberate. As needed, however, she can throw on the appearance of the normal girl she once was. A bit bashful, well-mannered, good natured, sweet. In particular she throws this behavior together when around her brother.
The truth is she's terribly lonely, wishing for her normal life once more and knowing it's not something she can have. Thanks to the disquiet, the objects of her affection are short lived. They are either driven to try and put her back in the grave, or they die of heart failure from only so much skin contact. The loneliness turns to bitterness. The bitterness turns to hate. The corruption seeps from the device animating her, fuels this change, and drives her to evil. Is it too late for her to be saved? Is the grave the only answer?
Due to her aura, she has a fear of crowds (though she will deal with them if she absolutely must), and is very careful about not getting too close to someone.
Extra info: Rachel's true soul is attached to the body, but the devices corruption is absolute on the body it is used on. In truth her spirit wishes to remain dead, but the device will not allow it, and neither will her brother.
Background: In life Rachel was satisfied with very little. A desk job, a good relationship with her successful older brother, a handsome fiancé named Alex, there wasn’t much else she could desire. Alex was a pediatrician and they had already begun discussing starting a family of their own. She had never been quite so driven as her brother, these things would have been enough for her. Would have been.
But her brother had lost a patient. These things happen; even the most talented of surgeons can’t save everyone. What doesn’t always happen is the patient’s brother taking it so personally. He figured that if he lost a sister, the good doctor ought to lose the same. An eye for an eye, with the help of four friends. When they saw the opportunity they snatched her up, she couldn’t fight off that many, and four days later her body was found. The police launched an investigation, but were unable to get enough evidence to find her killer(s). The only evidence her brother had was the anonymous letter received from the killer, letting him know it was his fault Rachel died at the age of twenty-four.
Perhaps taking that to heart, her brother found a way to steal her body, preserving it as best he could and beginning work on the repairs. It took him four years, but he found a way to bring her back. The device in question worked as a sort of pace-maker for her, jolting her back to life.
The re-born Rachel took time to adjust, but William was there to help her. To ensure her body and mind both were brought back successfully. He kept her out of public, however, a carefully guarded secret, refusing her requests to see her fiancé. So, when she was strong enough, she snuck out one night on her own and made her way to the home of Alex. The reunion was not exactly what she had imagined. He was more shocked than relieved at her presence, and the longer she tried to talk to him the more frightened he seemed to become. When she tried to touch him, he stuck her down, calling her an abomination, yelling at her that she was dead. Well, she did remember dying, or thought she did, but she was alive and well now so she didn’t think it would matter. Obviously it mattered quite a bit. He moved to strike her again as she pulled herself up, but she moved out of the way. He moved towards her a third time, and she grabbed something heavy (she didn’t even pay attention to what it was), and stuck him with it. He went down, she noticed the blood beginning to pool, and she ran.
Once home she reflected on the event, on how she didn’t seem to feel it when struck, on the cold that settled in her chest when she stood over the body of her now decidedly ex-fiancé. She thought about what he had said, and about his response to her return. She decided not to tell William, as he would surely only want to keep her away from people longer.
Instead she continued to sneak out, gradually noticing people’s response to her presence and ways in which she could shape it. She focused on these side effects, and when she happened across the familiar face of one of her killers, she decided to test just what she could do. Frightening him into telling her where she could find the others was all too easy, and it seemed his heart gave out after only so much skin contact. Now she had a new purpose, and through the process she would learn how to wield her newfound abilities against the enemy.
Her brother, however, seemed to grow suspicious. He found out about Alex’s death and asked her about it, though she played innocent. By the time he saw the familiar name of the one he had suspected of being involved in Rachel’s death in the obituaries, he decided it was time for them to move, and made the arrangements to transfer to Gotham.
“It will be a good new start,” he had informed her, and it also meant she would be able to have a bit more freedom (as no one was sure to recognize her two states over). She was upset that she hadn’t gotten around to getting rid of the last of the five responsible, but wasn’t foolish enough to make a hasty attempt. Haste means mistakes, and William was growing suspicious enough as it was.
Base of Operations: Gotham
Other: Rachel doesn’t say much, and when she does speak she is very soft spoken. She also doesn’t get along well with animals, as animals are particularly keen on there being something off about her.
Special thanks to: the Promethean WoD book. Turns out a Promethean is exactly what she's been all these years.
Full Halloween costume:
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He felt her even before he heard her, like a stir of papery moth wings touching dead flesh, it reached across the void, through time, slicing like a knife. Turning on heel, face tipped upwards, Jesters cowl cascading down the sides of his pale guise, he smiled, painted black lips contorting against the slash of red along his cheeks, one pale glittering eye seeking her out. It was said, perhaps a myth, that Sebastian had carved out his own eye, and for it was given a new one with the ability to see the past, present, and future…and perhaps even the dead. He made no effort to touch her, and instead bowed low at the waist, body halfing slightly until he sprung up once more. ”—A pleasure to be welcomed as such, they should have such welcoming parties back home…” he cooed, voice willowy and hollow like the wind through river reeds, like nails on a chalkboard, both lovely and horrific in such a perfect startling contrast. ”—You don’t seem alarmed…how curious,” he questioned while tipping his face up towards the cadaver that hung midair, thin fingers stroking the dead mans foot a moment before he reached to the place along his belt. On occasion that pale eye would flick towards her, glowing phantom like a paper lantern in the darkness, though his attentions were drawn on her curiously, he reached upwards, hand held in the corpses direction, and from it a light escaped slid from the man’s torso, and was slowly directed into the small vial held delicately between the Jesters hand. When this was done, he’d speak once more, this time introducing himself, ”—I am Sebastian Weed, but everyone just calls me Madd Mirth. And you are?”
Across Gotham city the traffic had slowed to a dull night time buzz, some cities, the night was when it all came to life. In Gotham, only people that filled its streets at this time were Hookers, Junkies, Heroes, and Criminals, all the low life’s, and those that fought to keep them in line. But sometimes, innocents got caught in traffic, missed their subway time, fell a little behind after dark. Hurrying down the sidewalk, was one of these poor souls, a man named Jim Hardluck, an almost perfect name, "--Just my luck..." he snapped, lifting the hood of his car, the radiator cracked spilling steam out over the side of the car, "--and so close too!" his place not but a block away. Slamming it shut, he'd release a sea of curse words directed towards his vehicle, before moving to the back and grabbing his briefcase from the trunk. "--Whatever, I'll walk and deal with this tomorrow," the weekend, perfect time to deal with everything. As he hurried on by, he'd be met with a raspy voice calling from the shadows, "--Hey brother, think you could spare some change? I haven't eaten in a week..." and the flustered Jim would hurriedly pat his coat down not even checking his wallet, and shake his head, "--Oh no sorry, all out...everything runs on plastic now days, didn't you know?" and that was the man's cue. Darting forward, not particularly caring if he was seen or not, the thin Jester clad man, grabbed hold a fistful of Jim's shirt, and slammed him against the wall, "--I did." he hissed, hot breath smelling of death and spearmint, touching the man's cheeks, "--I only hoped for a little charity, guess the world of man really is a black and blistering open sore, it hasn’t changed since last I visited…how lovely…" the thin man smiled, his skin pale, a slash of blood red splattered across his face, one milky white eye held fast on Jim’s features. Suddenly, a sharp cold knife was perched just below the left side of his victims jaw, and the Jester watched as his victims eyes widened full of fear as he looked up at the slightly taller man before him, he knew...he had seen this man before, had seen him on America's most wanted, had seen him on the news, all those grisly murders... "--Jesus...you’re the Sideshow Slasher!" the Jester smiled finally, yellowing teeth displayed. "—Is that what they’re calling me now days? I prefer Madd Mirth, myself. Now we must be feeling a little more charitable aren't we?" and Jim sobbed, "--Please, yes, I'm sorry...I had a terrible day, I didn't mean...I'll give you anything!" and the Jester stopped him, knowing that was just what he would hear, "--Excuses, excuses, my wife left me for the pool guy, my kids are little disobedient rats, my car died... how about those people who sleep on the streets, and dig in the filthy trash cans for scraps of food so they don't starve!? What about them? You people and your problems, always making up excuses why not to lend a helping hand to your fellow man. I'm going to make this city see that there are bigger problems then what they suffer from...I'm going to give them me," he chimed excitedly, donning a sleek black and white suit, and cowl like some Nightmarish Jester, "--and I'm going to do it one body at a time," and then the blade flashed silver, warm crimson spraying over him, as the color stained his clothes, Jim's screams muddled out over the sound of the noisy rotten city. There would be a new headline in the newspapers the next morning, reading 'Local business Man found strung up on a lamppost, disemboweled, with a grisly pair of letters reading, MM under his body'. Stepping out into the rain, the man known as Sebastian Weed, smiled something wild and wicked, and tipped his cowl back, arms stretched out, "--Hello Gotham...pleased to meet you..."
it's somewhat fitting I don't get the whole someone gets nervous around her thing but what ever floats your boat.
Henry frowned down at her, "I am not alone either, not entirely. Would you like to join us?" the look on his face would suggest otherwise he would be against anyone being left alone with him in fear they would get hurt.. but she didn't strike either one of them as helpless and as a Doctor he was interested more in her physiology even though his line of work focused more the on the inner darkness of people then the external. "are you trying to get me excited..?" He shivered now, "I do dislike the cold" he mumbled lying, he felt nothing at the time. The large thick coat he wore blocked any such things from effecting him. He would glance back down at her now, "My apartment is only a block away..". He soft moan escaped him and he tensed, he was annoyed at how little self control he had over that monster sometimes.