Sabine Marie Bataille
Age: 22
Arena Name(s): Voodoo queen or Iwa
- Abilities:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
She is believed to be a human, in whom several of the Court of Loas, or Iwas placed their influence and presence in, resulting in her layers. All of her vital organs and muscles are within her bones, extremely condensed, yet fully functional and very fit. She appears as a normal human, but she has five layers each representative of the deities which are believed to have helped given her these qualities.
Layers:
1:Legba is the messenger, and the most human, it's her outermost layer, and her usual appearance
2:Erzulie is a deep black or grey with silver sort of specks, almost scale like, it's rough and hard almost sandpapery in texture it is slightly magnetic and scalding to the touch, leaving an ashy residue. It packs a rough punch and can provide smoke screen and burning coals which it can break off from itself.
3: Oshun is a deep scarlet sort of color, almost velvet like, once agitated its horns sprout and spikes appear underneath the skin as well. Spikes and can poke through and be used as projectiles as well as knives. The nails are exceptionally long, and while odd and seemingly disfigured, her presence gives off the illusion that she is alluring, if you are cut by her nails or horns the illusion is intensified.
4: Oya is the balance between life and death, and the link between. With this she can serve as a medium if uncovered, It is a molted almost mummified appearance, seemingly just skin and bone, faded colors, If disconnected in this layer, and ONLY in this layer can limbs and appendages be reattached. She can be unpredictable here in regards to behavior, and seemingly unstable. She is surrounded by static electricity; often she manipulates sparks and shocks her opponents.
5: Ogoun is the iron and machinery. Here she is metallic, and incredibly hard and nearly impenetrable membrane over her bones. She has sharp angles on her joints and a very solid stance as well as her punch.
6: Samedi is the guardian of the crossroads, the cemetery and death. This is her down to her bare bones. Veins can be seen to occasionally run across the surface. They are much harder than normal human bones but not as hard as Ogoun. Her bones are stained black, if chipped white will shine through, but the outward sides are black. If pierced by her sharp claw like hands, or nearly pointed teeth life will begin to drain from you. With the appropriate components she can revive and even create life for example from a dormant seed. When blood is drawn by her hand it turns to dust. A mane of white fur may occasionally spurt from her skull directly, especially during rituals.
Combat skills and weapons: She has a whip, a few select knives she keeps on her at all times. She has a shoulder bag which may contain gris-gris, offering components, various herbs, salves, and mixing supplies, maybe hexes, but more likely charms for protection or other needs as well as a change of clothes along with more mundane everyday items. She is agile, and quick. She’s not heavy or terribly over bearing but can pack a punch. She has a high pain tolerance, and experiences slight personality changes with each layer.
It takes a full day for her layers to regenerate, if all are torn away, if only patches or areas, all grows back in about an overnight period of time.
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- Weaknesses:
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Her superstitions are ever present, as well as inborn weaknesses of each layer. She will try her hardest to remain in her outermost layer, using only her whip and knives, but if you agitate or tear away at her skin the lower layer will dominate. She will avoid fighting in water and anywhere with crowds, being insecure about her layers.
She is extremely insecure of her layers, and though they have a proud and shameless influence, she will be vulnerable to verbal combat as well as physical.
She will seek to enrage the opponent, provoke them, often leaving her unprepared for the outcome. She can take a punch, and she’s fast, but she hates a chase, and is best at hand to hand and close range. Long range is not her forte at all, and is the best way to get to her.
Once all are torn away, down to the bone she must retreat because her body will soon focus all energy on regrowth. She is vulnerable, all her shields are down and she can bleed. She is scared and will most likely attempt retreat.
Every seven months, her layers begin to rot. It takes three days for them to fully rot off and regenerate. These three days her abilities are still fully available, but deteriorating along with the flesh. So she may make use of them while they are still able to be used. She is anxious and self-conscious, and very sensitive emotionally as well as physically. She also becomes easily exhausted in the latter parts of this process as sleep is not generally on her agenda during this period. She usually goes into hiding, and may be hysterical at times. Clan wise, she'll wear baggy clothes, be very touchy and mostly likely avoid everyone at all costs, until perhaps one Iwa or another decides to be influential.
She may not realize at some points when she is hurt. The layers being torn off, being punched, and tossed and burnt it all still hurts, especially the removal of flesh, when doing it herself, those will be moments of hesitation.
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- About/Story:
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They resolved to make it comfortable for it’s presumably few days it had left, and took it in. When they discovered the child was in no way sickly, at least not enough to kill her. They discovered as she grew and well survived, that new layers were forming, though she developed with scars along her abdomen. Some gruesome, others almost beautiful, though only five seemed to stay after a few years of having taken her as their own. All her ‘layers’ as they called them were reminiscent of select Iwas of the Loas court and Mysteres. They named her and taught her and brought her up in their beliefs and culture. She grew a normal human appearance, though being tan and obviously of no relation to her parents who were African American. She had a decent childhood in the bayou, and was pretty much accepted with in her little town by New Orleans. She learned Creole, English, some Spanish, and a little French and grew to love food, music, and the night life and respect the voodoo ways of her parents and culture.
Once she turned 16 the regular occurrence of her rotting happened and her parents having been strong through many incidents, were frightened. On occasion or throughout her days of rotting she would be violent, or the Iwas would overwhelm her, often ending in poor situations for her family, and the suspicion of neighbors. She left for want to protect them, and made do by herself in the slums of the city of light. She’d sell cheap gris-gris or other fake or tourist attractions to get by. But it only takes once for a cheap hex to backfire, and get the Black Hand on your doorstep. Now she could never return to her family…the Black Hand would hurt them in attempt to get to her. She ran, with all the dark-sides of the Bayou on her tail.
She ran for two years, living in cheap apartments, one night motels and once even in the guest room of a local voodoo queen. When she was 18 she was presented with the promise of protection and a cheap one way ticket to RHG head quarters to begin training. They promised no judgment and good pay, if she won. They also assured her that the Black Hand would never lay a finger on her, though on several occasions they were quite wrong. She has a side job at a local café, and has a nice little town house where she can live as she pleases, without fear of being walked in on while half her face beings to mold and melt every now and again. She sells voodoo wares through a website, just to bring in extra cash.
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- Personality:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
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- Appearance:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
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- Demo:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
The Black Hand had found her.
Needless to say after laying out all her protective charms and spells and a night of virtually no sleep as she cuddle her baseball bat, the RHG office was her first stop. She demanded to speak to the head of the protection detail or whatever she was promised when she signed up.
Quickly they took her into a side office where she faced the same man who had brought her to this city with the promise of protection.
He looked up to see her and gestured for her to sit, which she ignored and stated her dilemma quite flatly.
“They’ve found me.”
“Come again?”
She stepped further into the office, her escorts now leaving. Sabine place both hands on the edge of his desk, clarifying her statement.
“The Black Hand has found me. You promised they wouldn’t be able to find me, but they have!” Her fists clenched and she stared him down, as he processed her words, with an unsettlingly calm composure.
“I promised that with the agreement of a contract, Sabine. The one you have yet to sign, or even look at.” He reminded her.
“Bullshit! You said to get on the plane and fight for you when you asked, and then I would be safe from them!” The man leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
“I do have a copy of the contract on me now if you are interested in receiving our protection, if not I suggest you find the door. Do not misunderstand us, your abilities are of great interest to us, but with past experiences with persons like yourself, binding contracts are necessary for order and OUR protection.”
“Your protection? From what?” Sabine was fuming, cursing at him and tearing up the papers he attempted to place in front of her. He refused to answer her questions and after several attempts to get a pen in her hand, he began escorting her to the door. Both the escorts were dead, with black painted hands splattered over their faces.
“Protect yourselves from that.” Sabine sneered, shoving him towards the two dead men before storming out onto the streets, heading into an old and mostly empty part of town.
Sabine tore through the sidewalks, finally coming to a dusty and dying old park. Jumping the gate she made her way to the center, shouting into seemingly empty space.
“Alright, You’ve got me alone! I know you’re following me, come out and kill me already!” She challenged, reaching into her bag for her knife and whip. Rustling erupted from the gates and fence as men in masks with black stained hands climbed up over them. Five of them, as they got close, she saw knives and guns.
They approached her cautiously, until the largest of them made a scoffing noise lifting his gun to aim at her, Sabine dashed forward, whip cracking against his hand as he knife found his throat.
“You want my life you can fight for it.” She growled at the group, who wasted no time drawing their guns and holding up their knives. With another crack she’d knocked the majority of the weapons into the tall brown grass. She began a lunge towards several of the half retreating men, when her wrist was seized by one behind her, the whip falling at his feet he twisted her arm behind her back and drew his knife to her throat.
“The Black Hand always wins.”
“Not this time! Not that easy!” She grunted against his grip as her skin began to tear.
She wrenched free from his grip, leaving him with a semi shredded glove of human skin. She half grinned as Erzulie began to burn through, She socked him right in the face, leaving scalding scrapes across his cheek and jaw.
By now they had retrieved their guns and knives and Sabine was taking off into the trees. Shots rang out behind her, by now the majority of Legba had been burnt or torn off by branches as she scaled a wide tree with rough bark. The shots they’d fired before losing sight of her had chipped away some of Erzulie as well.
The group ran out beneath her, as they pa