[hider=Bea Lucaci][CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/Kg1x6Cj.png[/img]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJFyu1JGWGY&ab_channel=Pinkshift [/youtube][/CENTER]
[i]"I dunno what all these tourists see in this shithole."[/i]
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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/reMoiMt.jpeg[/img]
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[sub][color=475ca0]Sabina “Bea” Irinel Lucaci[/color]

[color=475ca0]Tiefling (Unknown)[/color]  [b]|[/b]  [color=475ca0]She/Her[/color]   [b]|[/b]   [color=475ca0]22[/color]   [b]|[/b]   [color=475ca0]Romanian-American[/color]  [b]|[/b]   [color=475ca0]5’1”[/color]  [b]|[/b]   [color=475ca0]108lbs[/color]     
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[color=475ca0]Jaded[/color]
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[color=475ca0]Skills & Talents[/color][/sub]
[i]"You want a ticket? No? Then fuck off."[/i]
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[color=475ca0][b]Carnival Ladder Climber  ⫻[/b][/color] As assistant manager on an understaffed, shitty carnival island, Bea has developed a variety of skills. First of all, she knows she can’t depend on anyone above her. They do fuck all. Second? They sure as shit aren’t paying her enough for the amount of work she does now… but she has nothing else going on. Bea has gotten pretty good at solving problems without the actual needed help. Sure, she’ll grumble and scowl her whole way through it, but she gets shit done. Honestly, the place would be falling apart even more if it weren’t for her. She can also lead a team… of mostly teenagers who don’t know any better. If anything it’s more impressive she can get a bunch of teens to listen to her. She’s a master of nonchalant customer service. Ask for a manager on the island, and you get Bea and her resting bitch face. As much as she fucking hates it, she’s really very good at her job… which only makes things more depressing. Since she technically worked up the ladder from temp summer to permanent to assistant manager, she knows how shit runs well - and can run the various (minimal) stands they have if needed… which it often is. 

[color=475ca0][b]Daughter of a Devil  ⫻[/b][/color] When she puts in the effort, Bea can be charismatic. She’s always had a natural way with words, being quite the smooth talker when she wants to be. While she doesn’t bother much nowadays, it’s a skill she’s never lost. Her ability to be deceptive, on the other hand, is one she still uses to get out of all kinds of annoying situations. Her mind is still sharp. She’s cunning, able to manipulate and deceive people with relative ease and little knowledge on their part. While she doesn’t [i]tend[/i] to use this with bad intentions, it’s still manipulation at the end of the day. All of these are traits she’d had from a young age, but they seem to be pushing more to the forefront now.

[color=475ca0][b]Gifted Kid Burnout  ⫻[/b][/color] While Bea certainly wouldn’t consider herself gifted anymore, she once was. She’s still got the brains for studying if she puts her mind to it, and is pretty smart. This is channeled into her cunning and general wit. She’s good at math, which was her planned degree. Along with this she’s always expecting failure- softening the blow when it happens. 

[color=475ca0][b]Artfully Not Giving A Shit  ⫻[/b][/color] Bea is adept at not giving a shit in a way that doesn’t result in people punching her. Her sarcastic comments almost seem like jokes, and she’s managed to hold down a job since she was a teenager even with an increasingly worsening attitude. It’s almost endearing. [i]Almost[/i].
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[/cell][cell][sub][b] [color=475ca0]Appearance[/color][/b][/sub]
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[i]"I call this look ‘dying nicotine addict.’ The purple tinge is cool, I guess."[/i]

[indent]Uncaring about the world around her, Bea is someone who’s never found without her signature frown. Her expression can generally be described as dead inside or pissed off at anyone expecting her attention. But even though she doesn’t seem to care, she still puts some effort into her appearance. She’s rarely found without at least foundation, eyeshadow and lipstick in a variety of darker shades. Overall it tends to be darker, in a minimal gothic or more grunge style. Her hair, naturally brown, is dyed black and falls down to the top of her chest. Her bangs are cut to just above her eyebrows, and she consistently trims them so they remain at that length. Short and slim, her body is nicely curved. It’s kept in shape more by virtue of a job on her feet and meals on a budget than any effort on her part. Bea has tattoos all across her right arm, with about half her left arm done. She has floral tattoos across the front of her shoulders, and a few on her upper legs. She has a piercing in her right nostril, a septum piercing and a medusa piercing. 

Bea’s skin is pale, and she often has dark bags under her eyes. Recently she’s so sleep deprived these seem to be spreading, with her entire body starting to take on a slight purple tinge. Her once dull green eyes are becoming more vibrant, verging towards yellow, thanks to all the nicotine in her system. Her pupils are getting paler too, so she’s probably going blind from all the smoke in her eyes. She’s had simple lobe piercings for years, but she got helix piercings a few months ago. She’s pretty sure they fucked up somehow because her ears are starting to get [i]pointier[/i] at the tips. 

She’s started feeling two lumps on the top of her head… They’re painful and itchy, so she’s accepted her inevitable death in a year or two. It's not like she can afford to see a doctor. Thankfully they’re hidden by her hair, but she’s started wearing a beanie more often just in case. There’s another painful lump forming at the base of her spine… so a year or two is probably too optimistic. Either way, she’s just been ignoring the obviously worrying changes in her body.

Bea tends to wear various types of crop tops - favouring more tank top, bralet or corset style ones. These tend to be black or white, with the colour coming from her denim or corduroy pants. She’ll swap to shorts in the warmer weather, sometimes a dress or skirt. The colours she tends to add aren’t much- browns, denim blue, darker reds and occasional lighter blues. Her jacket of choice is a medium brown leather one that was her dads, thick enough to ward off most of the cold. On the rare days she really feels like trying she’ll dress up more, favouring a more gothic fashion with long dark dresses or skirts and more intense makeup. 
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[/cell][/row][/table][sub][b] [color=475ca0]Psychology[/color][/b][/sub]
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[i]"I’m not the person I used to be. I’ll never be her again. And shit’s never getting better."[/i]

[INDENT][color=475ca0][b]MAIN GOAL  ⫻[/b] [/color] Bea wants to leave Twin Pines and go somewhere better. Where? She doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. She just wants to make enough money to leave this deadend down and go somewhere that actually has life. Maybe even get the education she missed out on. Since that seems like a pipe dream, she just wants to keep making enough money to pay the rent on her shitty apartment and fund her nicotine addiction. 

[s]There’s still hope that she can become more like her former self, as much as she refuses to let herself believe it.[/s]

[color=475ca0][b]PHILOSOPHY  ⫻[/b] [/color] Hard work doesn’t always pay off and the world isn’t fair. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter how much you do, you could still end up with shit all for it. It’s better just to not try at all, because the result will be the same. The only people who can drag themselves out of the mud are those who got lucky, or are rich in the first place. 

[color=475ca0][b]SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻[/b][/color] That beneath her jaded, don’t give a shit exterior, Bea actually does care. She’s so fucking scared because she used to care too much. She used to take on other people’s burdens and stresses while putting pressure on herself to do well. This resulted in her burning out, and failing to get anywhere in life. Even after that she still cares, even though she suppresses it. Bea’s scared she’ll always be stuck like this, even though she pretends she’s accepted it. That she’s always going to be a failure at a dead end job in a shitty town. She keeps just how bad her mental health has gotten over the last few years a secret. The genuine cry for help is purposeful hidden under layers of cynicism and sarcasm. 

Also, she keeps the whole head lumps, skin turning purple, yellowish eyes and pointed ears thing a secret. No point freaking anyone out about her inevitable death.

[color=475ca0][b]SEXUALITY  ⫻[/b][/color] Bisexual with a preference for women. Bea has been in a couple of relationships, mainly with men - there’s a very small pool of woman attracted women in a small town like Twin Pines. As a result, she hasn’t been in a relationship for almost a year now. She has had flings in between this but, again, small pool to pick from.

[color=475ca0][b] WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE?  ⫻ [/b][/color] Bea was at work the day magic emerged. At the exact moment, she was trying to corral a bunch of teenage workers… then half the fucking island went dark for a few minutes. After the lights came back, or whatever magical darkness it was lifted, the shadows started talking to her.

[color=475ca0][b]FLAWS  ⫻[/b][/color] To be frank, Bea is depressed. She’s what could be described as ‘functionally’ depressed. She can still get out of bed when she has to, get dressed and look nice, go to work, pretend everything is o-fucking-kay. But when she’s alone and has nothing she needs to do? It’s bad. She’s crushed by hopelessness and feels like there isn’t much point to anything. Shit isn’t going to get better, after all. Past events have led to her being incredibly jaded. This often comes across in her scathing remarks or harsh dismissal of other people’s positivity. While Bea masks the genuine problems with biting wit and sarcastic jokes, it doesn’t make her a particularly easy person to be around. She just doesn’t really seem to care about anything. She’s often too blunt. While she doesn’t purposefully lash out at people, her words often hurt those around her. 

Bea’s a disconcertingly different person from who she was in highschool and she hates that. It's a cycle of self loathing and resenting her circumstances that keeps her stuck where she is now. And even when the parts that remain from the better person she was seem to resurface, it never feels genuine - at least not to her. Because she truly doesn’t believe that’s who she is anymore, or who she can be.
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[sub][color=475ca0][b] Backstory[/b][/color][/sub]
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[i]"I learned the hard way that hard work doesn’t pay off."[/i]

[indent] [hider=Demons of the Past]Just over two thousand years ago, a young Romanian woman, Sorina Corbeanu, was one of the many persecuted during witch hunts across the country. She had no natural magic, there were no Witch Hunter detection tools picking her up, just superstitious neighbours wanting rid of a single, parentless woman who scorned all men that tried to marry her. Forced to flee the town she grew up in, Sorina grew resentful against humanity - and she sought out a pact with a dark being.

The Demon, 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝, master of the Night. With his power Sorina was able to enact revenge on the very people who tried to have her killed. Her power grew and grew, and she was able to cut out a life for herself and amass a following. She didn’t seek domination: just enough power to protect herself and live well.

Her relationship with 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝ changed as well. It became more than just Warlock and Patron. It wasn’t a loving relationship, neither side interested in something like that, but it was deeper than one Sorina had with anyone else. From this union her daughter, Viorela Corbeanu, was born. After her birth, 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝ refused to have another. There could only be one with his blood per generation, he said. Only one with access to that power.

It wasn’t until she went through puberty that her infernal heritage was clear. Horns, tail, glowing eyes and dark purple skin. While being a Tiefling made her a target, her magic was strong. As was her son’s. 

Her son was the first to ignore the warning about having multiple children. After all, it didn’t matter if only one ended up like him. So he had two children. The first transformed as he did when he hit puberty. The second succumbed to an illness and died tragedy before she could reach that age.

It wasn’t just a warning. It was a curse. Only one child could be born per generation.

As magic disappeared from the world, the demonic features got less and less with each generation. Still knowledge of their ancestry was passed down along with warning of the curse. It wasn’t until the second generation without any visible demonic features that the decision was made to keep their infernal heritage secret. It wasn’t important anymore.

So from then on, the bloodline has remained unaware of their origins. The curse has been inactive for five hundred years, but is still passed down as a superstition.  [/hider]
Sabina Lucaci was born to Matei Lucaci and Katherine Gray in the small town of Twin Pines. Her parents weren’t married at the time as she was an unplanned, but welcome, surprise to a couple in their mid twenties. Matei had moved to America from Romania when he became an adult to study, but ended up having to drop out and following the ‘love of his life’ to her hometown. Here he worked in the fishing industry primarily.

They weren’t well off, but Bea was raised in a loving home. Her parents married when she was a toddler and she doesn’t have many negative memories of her earliest years. But as she moved towards the double digits, her parents' relationship turned rocky. Hushed arguments became loud and heated. They argued openly over Bea- and over the second child her mom had wanted and her dad refused to have.The household fractured. Her parents divorced shortly after she turned ten.

From there she spent equal time at two much worse off homes, both sides struggling without the double income. But Bea was a confident and positive child. Bright in more ways than one, she excelled in school while being incredibly friendly. It was difficult to deal with her parent’s separating, but she did better than both thought she would.

A couple of years later, her mom remarried. Then, she had another child. And another. 

Bea started to spend more time at her dad’s, preferring the quiet. The two of them were close and she loved him. He always encouraged her to do her best, and to not give up on her dreams. He didn’t want her to end up like him, forced to drop out of university for reasons outside of his control. He planned to do everything he could to support her. But money was tight, so Bea took up a temp summer job at Coney Island from when she was fourteen, before working weekends part time from when she was sixteen.

Along with excelling academically, Bea was popular in school. She was a girl that almost everyone knew, someone who was always cheerful and smiled at everyone. She was nice to everyone and seemed to get on with them too. Like a ray of absolute sunshine. But while Bea was popular and well liked, she had very few proper friends. Close ones. One of the few was Rowan- or Roro, as Bea teasingly called her. Much shyer, their friendship was a bit of an odd one, but Bea liked the quieter company. It balanced her.

It was Bea, with her confident and bright demeanour, who encouraged Rowan to go out of comfort zone and apply for university. To actually leave, just like Bea planned to. Bea worked her hardest for that goal too. She knew she had to get a scholarship to be able to afford it. But she was doing well enough that she should manage to get one that paid most of the fees at her prepared school. 

Everything was going well. She was excelling, and most people liked her. It was fine that she was sacrificing sleep. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have many actual friends.

But it meant when everything came crashing down around her, there was no one to help pick her back up. 

Right before final exams and her SAT, Bea’s mental health plummeted. She lost confidence in herself and struggled to even get out of bed. It was so sudden. She went from being happy and doing well, to struggling with depression that hit out of nowhere. But she still managed to push through and sit what she had to… but her grades just weren’t what they had been. She’d completely burnt herself out. She didn’t get the full scholarship at her chosen school. She didn’t even get into that school, and she didn’t get any scholarships anywhere. The one school she did get into she couldn’t afford. 

Her dad reassured her that she could resit everything in a year and apply again. She just needed to rest a bit. Her mum was sympathetic too - but her attention was taken up by her two other younger children. 

There was still some hope. Bea increased her hours at the carnival job, and studied on her own. All she needed was some kind of scholarship and between her working and some money from her dad, she’d be fine. She lived full time with him now, helping with bills here and there.

Then that winter, things got worse. Her dad’s boat capsized in a freak accident, and he presumably drowned. They didn’t find his body. 

Now Bea had to deal with the grief of losing the person she was closest to, and face that university was just a pipe dream now. She couldn’t afford it herself. She could barely afford to keep the apartment her and her dad had lived in. While she pushed into a worse state of depression, she didn’t want to lose the place she considered home and what she had left of him.

So she went full time at the carnival. Then, eventually, she was given the promotion to assistant manager. It was a shit job with way too many responsibilities for the pay, but it wasn’t like Bea had anything else going on in her life. And it meant she could cover the costs of the tiny, shitty apartment while having enough to fund her smoking habit on the side. 

Life wasn’t good. Quite frankly, it was shit. Sometimes she thought about ending it… but she never did. She couldn’t. Not when her dad wouldn’t want her to. She couldn’t do that to her mum, as much as she didn’t see her often, or to the younger siblings she wasn’t that close to. Or the few friends she had, even though she didn’t have contact after they all escaped town.

She loosely clung onto life, even though she didn’t have any hope. A shit job in a dead end town… she didn’t see any different future. 

But recently, things have changed a bit. Rowan- for some godforsaken reason- came back and started working on Coney Island. Sure, Bea was her sort of boss, but there was… some small amount of comfort from an old friend’s return. It was a break from the horrible monotony. Just a little bit she found herself able to joke with someone- even if it was mostly sarcastic.

Then, there’s the magic. While it should be thrilling to have something out of the ordinary happen in her shit, boring life… Bea’s just pissed off at it. She’d rather not have constant whispers in her ear, thanks. 
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[sub][color=475ca0][b] Magic[/b][/color][/sub]
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[i]"Can you fucking shut up for one goddamn minute?!"[/i]

[indent][color=475ca0][b]MAGIC ⫻[/b][/color] Infernal. Bea can (unknowingly) manifest shadows from people’s fears and nightmares, and manipulate them.

[color=475ca0][b]MAGIC DESCRIPTION  ⫻[/b][/color]
[indent]Bea comes from a demonic bloodline that specialised in fear and nightmare magic, shadow magic, and mental curses. At their strongest her ancestors could manifest shadowy versions of great beasts from nightmares, with the power to level towns. They could command the manifested shades to act as their spies, getting comprehensive information whispered in their ear. Nightmares and fears themselves were manipulated and used for fuel, with powerful mental curses cast, such as haunting people their worst nightmares. 

Right now, Bea can manifest people’s fears and recent nightmares in an area around her as shadows, and do incredibly basic manipulation of them. Manipulation wise, she can create a thin ‘whip’ of shadow that she can use to trip people or lash out at them. It’s relatively useless, able to trip if it's not noticed or cause a shallow wound on open flesh. 

Bea has no control over the shadow manifestation. She has no idea that [i]she’s[/i] the one bringing talking shadows into existence. Currently, they’re just shadows that take a vague shape of whatever they were formed from. They whisper to Bea, and she could talk to them - but she generally just tells them to go away. No one else can see these talking, moving shadows. Once they manifest they naturally flock to her. Against her will, Bea manifests the shadows from people within a forty metre radius around her. They are basically useless - she has no named spells, because she doesn’t even realise this is part of her magic and that she’s bringing them into existence.
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[color=475ca0][b]LIMITS  ⫻[/b][/color] 
[indent]Bea’s manifestation isn’t something she can actively cast or turn off at the moment, thanks to her lack of understanding and skill. This constant manifestation not only drains her energy, but leads to a near constant flow of irritating, useless shadows that whisper to her. She can manifest them in forty metres around her. People who are happier don’t tend to ‘produce’ shadows because it would require her to delve deeper into their mind, something she currently can’t do. The shadows also don’t actually do anything, nor can they interact with the world right now. Only Bea can see, hear and talk to them.

Manipulation wise, she can only make a basic whip that lashes out, trips or wraps around something once. It’s as strong as an average human in terms of ability to hold on or hurt.[/indent]

[color=475ca0][b]WEAKNESSES  ⫻[/b][/color] (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)
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[sub][color=475ca0][b] Other[/b][/color][/sub]
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[i]"Nah, Tieflings aren't real. They're just people pretending their ancestors fucked a demon to make it cool when they’re massive cunts."[/i]

[indent]In case it wasn’t obvious, Bea has no idea she’s a tiefling. She’s in denial it’d even be possible.

Bea is the only one left in the direct bloodline of 𝔊͎̒͜𝔯̸̶̶̩̝͋ͣ͛𝔬̨̥ͫ̊̀̓͞𝔞̵̮̮ͫ̉̈̓̽͜͠ͅ𝔷̡̬̟͗́͌ͣ̀̕͝ă̗͔ͤ̓̕͠͝, but there might be some distant relatives she doesn't know about. Technically the ‘one child per generation’ curse wasn’t active when there wasn’t any magic to fuel it.

Bea speaks Romanian, but she’s worried she's starting to lose it now she has no one to speak it with.
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