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Kusari Bloodworth
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18
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6 feet
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131 lbs.
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Kusari is a tall young woman, with a frail, thin body. Some are reminded of the Dreamcatcher when they see her, though she has yet to hear that from anyone herself. Her skin is pale, looking as if it were powdered to mimic porcelain. Her hair is ghostly white, almost transparent, and it runs down all the way to her hips. A side fringe hides her right eye along with the blue streak that marks her as an arbiter. A single braid is styled on the left side of her face, hanging just past her left temple. Her eyes are deep crimson red, and framed by thick white lashes. Her eyes are narrow, this along with her hawkish facial features give her an imposing visage. Her voice is low, yet bold, betraying the ethereal image one may have of her at first.
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Kusari is grossly sardonic, and nearly always pessimistic. She frequently makes remarks that could only label her as a misanthrope under normal circumstances. Any bridge she has crossed in the past she strode leaving behind a trail of gasoline, inevitably lit aflame by the sparks cracking from her mouth. She might make some excuse for her behavior. Perhaps that she's just acting out, that she doesn't mean it, but that would be a lie. She always means what she says. The best thing one could say about the way she talks to people is that at least her language isn't vulgar... usually.
Oddly enough, aside from her mouth, Kusari is hardly a 'bad person.' She doesn't go out of her way to fight anyone, even if someone ends up wanting to throw hands after something she's said. She's a student with great grades and attendance, and has a clean record sans one particular incident. However, these things are merely a consequence of her living on auto-pilot, she doesn't know what else to do, and she hasn't bothered trying to find out.
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I don't know why my mother called them that day. Maybe she was growing tired of looking at the biggest mistake she'd ever made, maybe she was growing too paranoid that someone else would do it. Or maybe the growls of her empty stomach whispered into her ears like a devil on her shoulder. Whatever the case, I still don't know, and I've forgotten how to care. I woke up to the sound of sirens that day, and of course I jumped out of my rickety bed and looked out the window, as I always did when I heard sirens. Usually they passed this run down apartment complex, but today that dreadful noise I feared stayed, like the buzzing of a hive hanging above me. They were here, the army, they were here for me. I called for my mother, first in stuttering hushed tones, then in panicked screams as the door began to be broken from it's hinges. But she wasn't home.
I ran to the window to the street below, and jumped out. I lived on the sixth floor of this building, but that didn't seem to cross my mind at the time, I just wanted to get away. I hit the ground as gracefully as rag doll, I could hear the bones in my body as they splintered apart. My right leg looked like something that would be covered in a mosaic if this were being filmed, and my left arm was bent in ways an arm shouldn't bend. Somehow, I managed to lift my bleeding head from the pavement and see that behind one of the army's armored vehicles, was my mother. I slowly got to my feet, ignoring the soldiers yelling at me not to move. I started to hobble towards my mother, frustration and tears in my eyes, I didn't know if I was moving to kill her or seek solace, my head was pretty banged up. My mother turned away from me and was led away by a solider, and I stopped. I think I understood fully then what she had done, I wasn't her daughter anymore, I was a monster. Of course, I'd always been a monster, hadn't I? What business did I have even questioning her choice?
A loud bang hit my ears, and I felt something pierce my chest, bringing with it an intense burning pain. I looked down and saw blood pouring from my chest. They had shot me in the heart. It hurt, and I ended up falling onto my back, yet somehow I didn't die. As more figures moved towards me I let out a derisive chuckle. I really was a heartless monster.
π π π π π : I Sing the Body Eldritch
Kusari's body is far from normal. She is able to rapidly regenerate wounds, and has near limitless endurance. There is no injury she can't recover from short of being obliterated, though she can be rendered immobilized or unconscious comparatively easily. The time it takes for a wound to heal can vary, a shallow cut will heal within a minute, but something drastic like losing a limb can take a week, unless she is able to reattach it. Losing vital organs is not lethal as somehow her ability compensates for whatever was lost until it fully recovers. This goes for everything, including her brain, though she will likely pass out if her brain is damaged heavily. While her body is healing, it is always surrounded in a dim light.
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In my dream, I was everything. I was a saint, I was loved, I was worshipped. I saved countless lives across the planet using my powers for good. I inspired those around me, rousing them from despair into hope. The term 'subnatural' was quickly thrown away, and others like me were able to be called 'mages' by not just each other. What a simple dream it was, what a stupid, unrealistic, pathetic dream. Yet it was the one I chose. Maybe such a pathetic dream suits me just fine...
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In my nightmare, I was nothing. My body was a formless mass of flesh. No eyes or ears, just the feeling of my body as it moved on it's own, devouring everything in it's path. There was nothing but a perverse pleasure as I ate, even when people came to destroy me I seemed to feast on their desperation and suffering. My body grew and grew as I ate, until there was nothing left, just me. I was alone, and longed for the taste of anything I could grasp, yet there was nothing. Well, there was one thing left to eat, the only thing left...
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Arbiter
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xxx
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