NAME: Scathach, or Scatty.
SOURCE: The Alchemyst: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel.
AGE: 117 years old.
Twin short swords, each about a foot long, sheathed on her back.
Various throwing knives,
Dagger strapped to her left leg.
A short wooden bow strapped to her back with arrows.
» it'll run us 'til we're ragged
Scatty is, in a word, proud. Her grandmother is the Witch of Endor, who has never seen her to be good enough at anything. Plus, her family cast her out when she was only a few decades old, and have never truly forgiven her for deciding to help the humani. This drives the redhead to continually try to prove herself, though she has very few people—mortal or otherwise—left to impress. Because she has been around for over a hundred years, she is still considered a child by most other immortals. Her youth makes her almost bitter towards the older Immortals, and she dislikes most of them, especially since the majority has decided to ignore the problems in the human world.
She is strong and ferocious, though has a fierce maternal instinct that sometimes flares up and overpowers her nearly gleeful love of violence. She never backs down from a fight, and would probably rather provoke one than avoid it. Scathach can become irrationally cruel, and takes pleasure in playing games with other beings, whether they are physical or mental. She teases, mocks, and riddles with the best of them, oftentimes contradicting herself without a second thought and not regretting it.
However, she is a naturally good being. She defends humans, fighting for them whenever she can, though not always through the most orthodox methods. She would never do anything to intentionally harm someone she saw as innocent. She does not pick physical fights with those she knows are weaker than her, as it is not honorable. That’s a big thing with her: honor. She would never do anything to intentionally tarnish her own or anyone else’s. When a warrior has nothing else, after all, they can still hold on to their honor.
» it'll harden our hearts
Scatty appears as a well-built woman, about 5'5" in height. Though she is on the shorter end of the height-scale, it often feels as if she is looking down on a person when she is speaking with them simply because of her tone of voice. She has need of neither sleep nor blinking, but can close her eyes and feign unconsciousness if need be. There is a Celtic Spiral tattoo etched into the back of her right shoulder with black ink, a mark of her heritage. She has bright red hair, cut short. Many people think she dyes her cropped locks, but that is not the case—it is completely natural. As natural as a vampire can be, anyway.
She has bright emerald-colored eyes with vertically-slit pupils, much like a cat; at times, they seem too large for the rest of her pixie-like features. The planes of her face are rather angular, sometimes giving her an ethereal look in just the right light. Freckles are peppered across the bridge of her nose and randomly around the rest of her body. She doesn't smile often, but when she wants to make an impression on someone, she grins widely and bares her pointed canines, courtesy of her species. Contrary to what popular culture says, her skin is not cold to the touch; she feels the same as any regular human being, though her muscles might seem a bit firmer. She is ridiculously skinny, almost unhealthily so, but beneath the abnormally pale skin lies iron-hard bone and muscle toned by a hundred years of physical training.
She is fond of tight, solid-colored tank tops, camouflage or khaki pants, and ankle-high black combat boots. If not wearing any combination of these, she will most likely be clothed in an all-white outfit, sometimes a dress if she likes it enough and she can move well in it. Some sort of weapon is always found somewhere on her body, whether in plain sight or hidden. She always has a pair of twin short swords sheathed on her back and a dagger strapped to her left thigh. Almost anything around her, including her entire body, can become a weapon, so upsetting her is not advised at all. She also has a twin sister named Aoife; she and Scathach do not get along at all, and it has been centuries since they last spoke. However, they look exactly the same—but if asked about it, Scatty will vehemently deny any resemblance to her at all.
» and love could use a day of rest
Scatty was born to a set of anonymous, red-haired, immortal parents a decade ago. She has an older brother, and a twin sister named Aoife. Both women were trained from a very young age in the art of fighting, and both went on to open their own schools; Scathach’s was located on the Isle of Skye just off the coast of the United Kingdom. She took in and trained a young man named Cuchulain, and fell deeply in love with him. However, her sister also loved him, and the two fought against each other while he was involved in a war. This resulted in his death, and Scathach has never forgiven her sister for the tragedy, believing it to be her fault.
Over the past century, Scathach took in and trained several of the greatest warriors in recent history. Some older Irish cultures worshipped her as the goddess of war, though she never sought to rule over the humans as such. That was how she spent the majority of her time up until the late 20th century. At that point, she took something of a break and opened her own personal dojo to train regular, everyday people in the martial arts. She has no particular style of her own, as she helped create most ancient and modern styles. She tried training ninjas once, but they weren’t really that great. She has also taken part in almost every war since she was born, the most recent being World War II, in which she played the part of a nurse for a bit when she wasn’t kicking ass on the front lines in the guise of a man. So, Scatty was living a life of relative solitude in San Francisco’s Chinatown, staying mostly in and around her dojo, taking in very few students. She had been lying low, waiting for her talents to be needed once again.
One morning, after watching the news, and all the disasters happening all around the globe, she realized that something in the world was fundamentally wrong, and so she set off on a world-tour to see if there was anything she could do.
She visited the Witch of Endor, her grandmother, who lived in Ojai, California. The Witch, who could see the possible threads of the future, told Scatty that there was a “special” group of people who could help her understand what was happening, and that she should go to them and offer her help; she didn’t exactly mention who those people were or where they were, so the redhead was left to find them on her own. Of course.
Next on the List of People To See was le Comte de Saint-Germain, who offered her shelter for her stay in France. Saint-Germain, also known as Francis, took her to one of his several safe-houses right in the middle of Paris. Scatty was ecstatic to learn that Saint-Germain married one of her good friends, Joan of Arc. That’s right, the Joan of Arc. Jeanne d’Arc, La Pucelle, the Maid of Orléans. Whatever you prefer. Scatty just calls her Joan. The redhead was rather excited to discover that she was still alive.
Eventually, three Valkyries, called the Disir, found out where Scathach was and, since the Valkyries have a personal grudge against the Shadow, they unleashed their ultimate creature-weapon, Nidhogg, in order to devour Scatty’s memories. It incapacitated and grabbed her, but she managed to get away. However, a water-creature called Dagon, who had also held a grudge against her, found her and dragged her beneath the Seine River. After she surfaced, all gross and wet, she decided to take her search back to the U.S. and ended up in New York, where she happened upon the Institute. When she learned that it was a school full of the mutants she had recently heard about, she immediately connected them with the “special” group her grandmother had mentioned, and applied to be a teacher.
» before we both start fallin' apart
Scatty is, in essence, a vampire, though not of the kind we’ve all read about. She does not sparkle in sunlight dammit. She is from one of many vampire clans, one that does not drink blood in order to survive; she often states that the blood-drinking vampires are the “lowliest of their species.” Most of Scathach's ancestors are actually vegetarians; she literally only eats vegetables and fruit. Her main source of sustenance, however, is emotions. She feeds off other people’s sensations, sucking them from their bodies so she can feel alive.
By the way, a little quirk about her clan is that none of them have the ability to feel, neither emotions nor pain. Joy, hate, fear—they are all relative to her, and she considers them novelties. Sometimes, she scorns the humans for taking these things for granted, and it borders on bitter jealousy. She takes emotions and sensations from people, relishes the way they make her able to feel. But she states that, “we do not need to feed often”. However, like traditional vampires, she must be invited into an establishment before she can actually enter it. She can go outside and walk around in daylight—without sparkling—but if she stays in the sun for too long, she’ll get sunburned. Also, she is allergic to cats and birds, and absolutely hates water and most anything damp.
So: Vampirism [includes sharp teeth, emotion-sucking, enhanced strength, senses, and durability and very slow aging]. As for her combat abilities, they strike me as more of a skill, as she learned them after centuries of difficult training.
» pray that it's raining on sunday
We all need a bit of creative license, but there is a limit. And so, that's what this is for. Anything you, as another player, think I need to improve on, please feel free to tell me here. All comments are screened, anonymous comments are allowed, and IP logging is off, so don't be too shy. ♥