Natasha Darcel (NPC)

[Desmond Vinson]

Name: Natasha Bethany Darcel
Nick Names or Alias: The Trinity Slasher
Age: Physically 25 (Born 45 years ago)
Aesthetic Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexual Preferances: Bi-Sexual
Breed/Form: Darklings
Kith:

Razorhand

Powers:

Natasha's powers work only at night.

Ripper's Gift - Natasha can use Glamor to transform her hands into razor-sharp knives. She is extremely proficient in the use of these knives, a proficiency enhanced by the power, but she obviously cannot use her hands while they are transformed.

Contracts of Mirror (***) - Natasha can alter her appearance beneath the mask, fooling other fae into thinking she belongs to a different Kith. She can also modify a single feature of both her Mask and her true self. Finally, she can adjust the size of her body.

Contracts of Darkness (**) - Natasha can make others more susceptible to fear so that events that would normally cause only mild intimidation to instead inspire outright panic. She can also hide her presence by deepening shadows, loudening noise, and making concealing smells more pungent.

Derangement(s):

The trip through the Hedge took Natasha too long, and the magical barrier flayed her spirit away and transformed her into one of the Soulless. Pity and humanity have been forever lost to her; she is the worst of all possible sociopaths, still intelligent and highly functional but with a total disregard for all life.

Misc.:

Likes: Screams, Blood
Dislikes: Light, Talking

Foci:

Natasha focuses her powers with a necklace made out of the remnants of her Fetch. It consists of a rabbit's foot nailed to a small piece of broken wood, and now glows softly when she invokes her powers, as though protesting its violent demise.

Deformities:

Beneath the Mask, Natasha is a twisted creature of vilest night. Her flesh is disgustingly pale, and her veins bulge out from beneath her skin. Her eyes are large and overly round, deeply sunken into her head. Her fingernails are long and sharp, encrusted with strange filth, and her brown hair hangs around her head in a matted mess. She is tall but emaciated, as though stretched beyond what should have been the breaking point, and her bones are clearly visible beneath her taut flesh.

Appearance:

Natasha's Mask resembles her before she was taken by the Fae in almost every way: shoulder-length brown hair frames chocolate-colored eyes and strong, chiseled features. She is stocky, with wide hips and shoulders alike, but not short, standing at about six feet. She possesses a certain strong, commanding beauty, with the voice of a Valkyrie and the proud stance and bearing of a queen.

Fashion Sense/Style:

Natasha wears Hedgespun Armor to protect her from attack. To non-fae, it appears to be thick protective clothing similar to a flak jacket. To those who can see its true nature, it is elaborate and tough but flexible armor crafted from the glittering yellow-green scales of some strange creature of the Hedge.

Personality:

Natasha was once a kind person, but the loss of her soul has stripped away any chance of that now. She has become in many ways like the Fae who enslaved her, caring for nothing but her own amusement and laughing at the suffering of others. Slow torture followed by death is her pastime, passion, and pleasure.

That said, she remains clever and calculating, remembering to clear crime scenes of evidence and using her fae magics to conceal her involvement in the grisly murders in which she finds such sick enjoyment. Her every move is swift but carefully weighed, making her mind as sharp as the blades that form her hands.

Physical-Strength: 6
Intelligence: 8
Speed: 12
Leadership: 2
Melee: 12
Unarmed: 8
Ranged: 2
History:

Natasha Darcel was born the only child of corporate CEO and single parent Michael Darcel. Her father, who rarely had any time to actually spend with her, simply bought her whatever she asked for. She grew up incredibly spoiled, never bothering to do her schoolwork and often not even showing up to her classes as early as elementary school. All of her mental effort was applied to learning business in the hopes that being good at it would attract her father's notice.

She did indeed become good at it, drawing up time sheets and predicting stock prices by age twelve, but her father still didn't seem to care much. Disheartened by this, she began to spend her time climbing to the top of her school's elaborate social network, a process that brought her some degree of satisfaction but never any happiness. A great many people began to look down on her, but just as many looked up to her, which she considered a fair trade.

When High School hit she quickly became involved in the party scene, subconsciously hoping to do something so transgressive that her father would finally take notice. She was deflowered at age fifteen, and continued to have sex with many different partners at many different parties and beyond, but there was no reaction. She got smashed and experimented with drugs. No reaction. She went in deeper.

Widely and not inaccurately considered a total by age seventeen, she was in her first porn shoot on her eighteenth birthday. Her father still didn't seem to care. She didn't stand a chance of going to college, so she took a job at a strip club. Her father didn't even notice when she started peddling her body on the streets and getting deeper into internet porn on the side to feed a growing drug habit. She was at her lowest.

And then she finally met someone who saw her differently. A young missionary named Timothy Banks ran into the club one night and read scripture aloud until he was thrown out. He found her later on the streets and followed her around, sermonizing to her. At first she laughed in his face, but she came to be glad of his presence; at least he cared enough to bother spending time trying to change her life.

Over the course of a year, she began to change. Timothy was persistent, and her life was empty. Finally, at age nineteen, she was baptized as a born again Christian. She had to spend nearly a year in rehab, relapsing several times, but eventually overcame her addiction. Lacking the education to get most jobs and unwilling to go back to her old ways, she became manager of a church-sponsored soup kitchen, putting her old management skills back into practice.

She was deeply in love with Timothy, but saw herself as much too low to ever be in a serious relationship with him. Still, the two remained fast friends. Though life was now much harder for Natasha than it had ever been before, it finally meant something, and that made it worth living. She was recognized with a number of community service awards for her devotion to helping the homeless, and became the pride of her church.

But fate is cruel, and just as everything finally came together after several years of service her life was taken away again. An image of what she thought was Timothy approached her and asked her to marry him, to which she agreed amid tears of joy. He led her through a doorway she though was a back entrance to the church. It wasn't. The illusion fell away, and a strange and twisted creature of terrible beauty laughed as it cast her into deep darkness.

How long she was there, amidst the evil whispers and the vile moistness and the flutterings and scuttlings of unseen beasts, she doesn't know for sure. She estimates it was about a year before she slunk away, unable to see where she was going but knowing that she couldn't take the torment any more. Yet when she emerged back into the Hedge, seeking a doorway home, she quickly became even more lost than she'd been in the dark.

The strange madness of the Hedge tore at her, both mind and body, and it left scars that could never be repaired. Each scratch from the nightmarish thorns left behind a little blood, and a little soul went with it. And she wandered too long. When she found the doorway again, there was very little blood left, and no soul at all. The kind, caring person she had become was lost to the realm of the Fae, and a new desire to see suffering gripped her.

She returned to her soup kitchen to find that she was still there in the form of a Fetch, a replacement created by the Fae. The first person she ever killed was herself; transforming her hands into deadly knives, she mutilated the face of her double, hacked it to bloody little pieces until it returned to the little bits of wood and animal it had been created from. The body of Natasha Darcel was never found, and after two years she was given a funeral and an empty grave.

The twisted being that had been created from the real Natasha prowled the night, killing things slowly just to watch the blood ooze from their wounds. Her redemption had failed; she had become one of the night's most incomprehensible and terrifying evils, living on only to laugh at the gory stains on the ends of her knife-hands.

[Iota]