Post by Fiamma Della Morte on Oct 25, 2009 14:10:46 GMT -5
Didn't your mother teach you not to play with fire?
Character's Name:
Fiamma Della Morte
Age
21
Birthday:
September 13
Birthplace/Hometown:
Venice, Italy
Gender:
Female
Occupation:
Blacksmith, part-time photographer
Ethnicity:
Italian
Physical Profile (height, build, weight, style of dress,hair color, eye color, skin tone etc.):
The Basics
Fiamma is short, and skinny, although people think that this is signs of weakness. How could they be so wrong. She is muscular and curvy in all the right places. Scars are all over her legs though, from fights she got in as a teen. More on those in history.
Behind the Mask
Now, her head. angular, framed by her brown hair. She had a couple streaks put in it, of purple, pink, and blue. She usually just brushes her hair so they don't show. But they're always out on special occasions. She usually has her hair up, half in a side ponytail and half in cornrows. Her green eyes stand out on her face, rivaling the olive skin tone of her Italian family.
Who else would have such distinct style?
You wanna spot her in a crowd? No problem. She has very distinct clothing styles. She is either in a.dark colors or b. neon and sparkly colors. She loves sticking out in a crowd, and the looks on peoples faces when they see her. She likes comfy, loose clothes, but when shes flirty she'll go for the tank tops and skinny jeans.
Personality:
Likes-
Fire
Her pet dog
Burning things
Sharp things
Dislikes-
Cold
Chihuahuas
People killing the fire
Divas
Dull things
Strengths-
Fire
Good in groups
Weaknesses-
Easily intimidated if alone
Sensitive to the cold
Knives
What Side Is Your Character On?[/b]
Neutral, working her way to villainy.
Background and History:
Fiamma Della Morte is what her parents named her. Little did they know. At age four she developed her pyrokinetic powers, and learned quickly to hide it. She went on with her life, only letting it slide when lighting candles or other fires.
Thats when she realized. When did burning things become so fun? She started burning paper on the balcony of her room, over-looking and actually hanging over the canals that made her hometown so famous. She would stand out there, ripping and burning the pages of her blank diary.
Her friends were the only ones aware of her power, and loved her for it. Most of her friends were boys, and when they started a gang when they were all around 13, she wanted in. She became the pyromaniac of the group. The gang wars in the alleys were huge, and she learned quickly. You would think she was a dancer, whirling through the people of the other gangs, a flame wrapped around her like a snake.
One time though, she met her match. A tall, lanky boy with knives like ice. Every day the two gangs would meet for a week, and each gang member would pick a rival to focus on. She fought with him the whole week, burning his arms while her sliced away at her legs. The cuts are still sensitive today.
Afterwords she went to high school, then college, and decided she wanted to come to Gotham. She's currently renting a loft, and living the life of an aristocrat. Miss Fiamma Della Morte has arrived, and she is currently waiting patiently for the moment to strike.
Any Special Abilities?
Pyrokinetic
Pets:
Her dog, Kyle
Name of Play By:
Lady Sovereign
Example Role Play:
Fiamma stood in front of her "boyfriend's" small house, grimacing. He was cheating on her, with Leah James, and was out with the bitch right now. On of her friends had just spotted him, and had sent her as picture. Now, the bastard was gonna pay.
She got the lighter out of her purse. Fiamma walked up to his door, opening it with her key, and walked through the kitchen to his garage. Bingo, she thought triumphantly. She took the cap off, and tipped it over. Fiamma walked through the whole house, a trail of gasoline following her. She got through the whole house, and tipped the gas upright at the front door. The tiniest spark, and the house house would be burning.
She made a word with gasoline on the front lawn, spelling out asshole in big letters. The brunette lit the fire on the lawn with a flick of her finger, then walked up to the door once again. Fiamma crouched down, lighting the lighter, and touching it to the gas.
Quick as lightning, the whole house was aflame. She smiled, happy with her work, and walked to her SUV. She drove away, happy as can be. A job well done.
Password?
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