Post by mahine on Sept 21, 2008 19:27:16 GMT -1
Character Name:
Dharma Lakshmi
Species:
Soul Collector
Age, Gender:
Was 25 at her death in 1920, Female
Description:
Dharma was quite tall for her time and country, standing at 5’7”. She alternately slender and curvy, in the all the right spots, her body is honed and tanned, the skin a warm caramel color. Dharma usually wonders the world in casual wear that, while nice, wouldn’t stand out in public, but when she wants to make an entrance she comes decked out in a sparklingly bejewelled silk sari. She never wears shoes. When asked she give you supernatural mumbo-jumbo, but it’s really because she just doesn’t like shoes. Dharma’s eyes seem oddly colourless, changing with the light and what she wears. Her hair is similar, a dark shade somewhere between deep auburn and black. It reaches in curling waves to her middle back. As a grim reaper, she also trails shadows.
Personality:
Normally Dharma is calm, collected, and cool. When she says something it’s sardonic, sarcastic, or brutally honest. Dharma has no concept of what should or should not be said. She seems always to be on the edge, constantly tense and edgy. This is probably from the pain in her soul. As mentioned before, Dharma never wears shoes, but another quirk would be to obsessively clean her weapons. When she’s worried or anxious she breathes deeply and chews her lip or thumbnail.
History:
She was raised in India during the yearly 1900’s, and life wasn’t easy. The pretty young girl was raised in the back streets of Calcutta. From an early age she realized life would be better if men (or women) didn’t see her lustrous hair or fine features, so she smudged her face with muck wrapped herself with rags. Dharma, ironically, started off as a pick pocket, her long fingers dancing in and out in a flash. Later she graduated to cat burglar, robbing such renowned people and places as a sultan or two and the English consulate, but many, many more.
She didn’t commit any serious crimes until she was 18. Dharma had risen to a high status in the Calcutta underworld, and that didn’t please many people. Another thief, more of a mercenary really, tried to kill off his lead competition. The man was never seen alive again. But his head was. And some other parts… Word got around and soon she decided that assassination was her new game. Dharma killed for money, for other people, in the name of revenge, politics, or money. The modus operandi was anything from burning down the house, to a neat slit throat.
For seven years, she inhumed Calcutta’s highest and finest. It wasn’t until, her last job that she met her sticky end. Dharma had been sent to strangle an English businessman, but what she didn’t know that he employed mercenaries as personal body guards. The last thing she felt was the bayonet piercing her chest. The guards dumped her body.
Hell opened up to her soul, and she is unsure how many years she spent in torture until she was recruited to the Soul Collectors. Now, while her soul suffers the agony of hell, Dharma kills again.
Powers/Training/Experience/Weaknesses:
Dharma is extremely skilled in hand to hand combat and weapons. Anything will do, though hand guns are fairly new to her.
Movement between realms
Removal of souls
Can’t be killed
Invisibility
Family/Ties:
Agni Lakshmi, father, deceased
Jaswinder Lakshmi, mother, deceased
The souls she has collected
Lesser demons
RP Sample:
Dharma glided through the crowd, invisible to ever eye but her own. Businessmen, lawyers, plumbers, and beggars, all looked straight through her. Long hair not moving in the earthly wind, the soul collector turned and entered effortlessly into one of the many skyscrapers near the Gherkin. Invisible as the wind she rode up to the fifth floor, her spot in the elevator was seemed oddly empty in the packed cube.
Stepping out with the crowd, Dharma flipped the inner metaphysical switch to make herself visible once again. As she entered a non descript office, on of many in the hall, the receptionist saw an attractive Indian woman, her auburn hair glossy even under the fluorescent lights. Dharma’s grey suit could have been off the rack or Armani, but either way it matched her eyes in the flat light. She gave a finger wiggle to the young woman and said in an off handily official tone, “I’m just here to see Barnsforth. I won’t be mo…” And such was the shear confidence that she had a right to be there, the receptionist just let her pass.
The crooked politician looked up from his desk. “May I help you?” Dharma smiled cheerfully and walked around the desk, and grasped his head firmly in a lock. The confused look crossed his face just before the knife crossed his throat. Dharma wiped her slick hands on Barnsforth’s paperwork, leaving brilliant red smears across the deposition. Then, as she tucked the gun away in her suit, Dharma vanished.
Dharma Lakshmi
Species:
Soul Collector
Age, Gender:
Was 25 at her death in 1920, Female
Description:
Dharma was quite tall for her time and country, standing at 5’7”. She alternately slender and curvy, in the all the right spots, her body is honed and tanned, the skin a warm caramel color. Dharma usually wonders the world in casual wear that, while nice, wouldn’t stand out in public, but when she wants to make an entrance she comes decked out in a sparklingly bejewelled silk sari. She never wears shoes. When asked she give you supernatural mumbo-jumbo, but it’s really because she just doesn’t like shoes. Dharma’s eyes seem oddly colourless, changing with the light and what she wears. Her hair is similar, a dark shade somewhere between deep auburn and black. It reaches in curling waves to her middle back. As a grim reaper, she also trails shadows.
Personality:
Normally Dharma is calm, collected, and cool. When she says something it’s sardonic, sarcastic, or brutally honest. Dharma has no concept of what should or should not be said. She seems always to be on the edge, constantly tense and edgy. This is probably from the pain in her soul. As mentioned before, Dharma never wears shoes, but another quirk would be to obsessively clean her weapons. When she’s worried or anxious she breathes deeply and chews her lip or thumbnail.
History:
She was raised in India during the yearly 1900’s, and life wasn’t easy. The pretty young girl was raised in the back streets of Calcutta. From an early age she realized life would be better if men (or women) didn’t see her lustrous hair or fine features, so she smudged her face with muck wrapped herself with rags. Dharma, ironically, started off as a pick pocket, her long fingers dancing in and out in a flash. Later she graduated to cat burglar, robbing such renowned people and places as a sultan or two and the English consulate, but many, many more.
She didn’t commit any serious crimes until she was 18. Dharma had risen to a high status in the Calcutta underworld, and that didn’t please many people. Another thief, more of a mercenary really, tried to kill off his lead competition. The man was never seen alive again. But his head was. And some other parts… Word got around and soon she decided that assassination was her new game. Dharma killed for money, for other people, in the name of revenge, politics, or money. The modus operandi was anything from burning down the house, to a neat slit throat.
For seven years, she inhumed Calcutta’s highest and finest. It wasn’t until, her last job that she met her sticky end. Dharma had been sent to strangle an English businessman, but what she didn’t know that he employed mercenaries as personal body guards. The last thing she felt was the bayonet piercing her chest. The guards dumped her body.
Hell opened up to her soul, and she is unsure how many years she spent in torture until she was recruited to the Soul Collectors. Now, while her soul suffers the agony of hell, Dharma kills again.
Powers/Training/Experience/Weaknesses:
Dharma is extremely skilled in hand to hand combat and weapons. Anything will do, though hand guns are fairly new to her.
Movement between realms
Removal of souls
Can’t be killed
Invisibility
Family/Ties:
Agni Lakshmi, father, deceased
Jaswinder Lakshmi, mother, deceased
The souls she has collected
Lesser demons
RP Sample:
Dharma glided through the crowd, invisible to ever eye but her own. Businessmen, lawyers, plumbers, and beggars, all looked straight through her. Long hair not moving in the earthly wind, the soul collector turned and entered effortlessly into one of the many skyscrapers near the Gherkin. Invisible as the wind she rode up to the fifth floor, her spot in the elevator was seemed oddly empty in the packed cube.
Stepping out with the crowd, Dharma flipped the inner metaphysical switch to make herself visible once again. As she entered a non descript office, on of many in the hall, the receptionist saw an attractive Indian woman, her auburn hair glossy even under the fluorescent lights. Dharma’s grey suit could have been off the rack or Armani, but either way it matched her eyes in the flat light. She gave a finger wiggle to the young woman and said in an off handily official tone, “I’m just here to see Barnsforth. I won’t be mo…” And such was the shear confidence that she had a right to be there, the receptionist just let her pass.
The crooked politician looked up from his desk. “May I help you?” Dharma smiled cheerfully and walked around the desk, and grasped his head firmly in a lock. The confused look crossed his face just before the knife crossed his throat. Dharma wiped her slick hands on Barnsforth’s paperwork, leaving brilliant red smears across the deposition. Then, as she tucked the gun away in her suit, Dharma vanished.