Spider

The Monster watches with a brazen openness that slips like a knife beneath the flesh. The air around her is forever cold and the smell of freezer burnt meat grows stronger with each step forward she takes. There's a latent violence in her stride as the shadows slip away from her form and the twisted strangeness of the Beast becomes all the clearer. Eyes, two too many, watch with baleful intensity in their neat little vertical row. Each glows a bloody red in the darkness against the backdrop of shadows cast by the ivory-hued mask that hides the true details of her countenance behind it's rigid and expressionless composition. A closer look reveals the signs of frost bite clawing out from beneath those smooth lines and hinting at the rotted and monstrous visage beneath. Those scars and blights of her transformation from life to death and into the Requiem of twilight bleeding any impression of humanity and life out of her once olive complexion now turned pallid and wane.

Raven hair stands in stark contrast to every sign of death and monstrosity that dominates the overtures of her physical self. It's tresses all showing the dark sheen of health and vigour as they sail in long bangs and pony tail from the crown of her head and frame that same wicked and expressionless mask that invokes an almost raptor-like quality with the sharpness of it's lines. Worse yet is the soft voice that emerges whenever she speaks; unpleasantly breathy and causing faint mists of too cold breath to drift lazily and bizarrely from the edges of the mask and the imperfect seal to be found there. That scent of freezer burn only intensifying with each little breath and word that escapes her hidden lips.

Her form is one of refined physicality; a measure of grace and power evident in each motion made frightening and twisted by the explosive power that remains ever present. Her limbs are long, graceful, and slender with curves that seem all too human and allow the eye to linger but were one to see them in all their glory the stomach would turn. The unkind caresses of eternal death have left nothing wholly untouched as while one might glimpse patches and expanses of flesh touched only by the deathly pallor the eye need not rove far to note the black and brittle looking flesh bitten by frost and the corrupting influences of the Monster. Yet there remains a distinct impression of predatory vitality that is only evidenced further in the unsettling smoothness and quickness of every motion that makes it seem that even the limits imposed on the form of man hold no sway over her.

Most often she can be glimpsed attired in suits of red and black tailored to flatter the still human form and figure that so many might have envied had not the deadly cold slipped into her blood. A distinct bulk, however, can always be noted of armour and concealed holsters that imply an awareness of the dangerous presented in the modern world despite the enduring qualities of the undead form.


Status: City 1
Status: Crone 1
Striking Looks 2 (Alien, Inhuman, Terrifying)
Atrocious