(Superhuman) Yamane Paksennarion

Name: Yamane Paksennarion (Paks)

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Personality: Paks is generally very calm, preferring to think things through before acting. However, she also has an incredible temper. At times, those two personality traits war with each other, but she tries to stay calm at all times. As such, Paks is extremely skilled with masking her real emotions, and many times will act through several layers of pretend emotions. Her perpetual calm can be seen as cold, or uncaring, and some think her rather rude due to that. Usually she is a bit pessimistic and morbid, but Paks likes to think of it as being realistic. A major flaw of hers is her proud disposition. She clings to her pride a bit too stubbornly.

History: Paks’ mother was a leading force in a small cult. While low in numbers the cult was gaining members quickly, mainly the mainstream castoff’s and rejects. Preaching a controlled Armageddon, brought on by the cults own ministrations, they dabbled in occult. It was a heady mix of drugs and charismatic words on retribution for those who had been wronged. Enough to keep members happily under the leaders thumb.

All that climaxed one night, while in the midst of an arcane ritual they somehow managed to open a portal to an alternate dimension. From that portal emerged what they would continue to refer to as a demon, and on that night Paks was conceived.

So it was that Paks grew up, secluded amongst this destructive cult, and groomed as their tool for Armageddon. As if to confirm their conceptions, from an early age Paks showed signs of a strange ability. Surely a demon’s ability. Black energy would lash out, lifting things up, or shattering objects and she could open dark portals, traveling through a realm of black energy among other things.

Paks struggled to control her ability, and struggled to grow in such an oppressive environment. At first the cult was content with having Paks, they bid their time, waiting patiently for her to grow and her powers to mature. As her powers grew more intensive and harder to control, the leader of the cult began to try and enthrall Paks. It wasn't very hard as her life view was extremely sheltered at the time. Drawn to his honeyed words and praise, Paks lived fully for him. Still her powers grew, getting more and more unruly and hard to control. He was convinced that if she died, she would be resurrected and reborn anew fully able to control her powers. Do both to her idealization of him, and also the crippling strain of her abilities, Paks agreed to his plan. On a full moon, in the middle of the winter the cult held another ceremony, this one intended to temper the blade so to speak. Paks' mother attempted to kill her, rather crudely. Paks didn't resist, believing this the true path she was to take.

Luckily, or unluckily depending on whom you ask, an anonymous tip to the police had them watching the cult. They managed to intervened before Paks was mauled to death. The cult members were rounded up and sent to jail, including Paks' mother and the leader. It soon became apparent that Paks had suffered grievous injuries and would not fully recover. Her internal organs had been injured, making it so that she could no longer perform intense physical actions for an extended period of time. Before she could be sent off to a foster home, Paks managed to slip into a portal....

RP Sample: Paks ran. Her feet hitting the pavement with dull thunks, the motion sending reverberations up her legs. Although at the moment said legs felt more like rubber or overcooked noodles than flesh and bone. For that matter, her whole body felt like gravity had suddenly increased in an attempt to smush her against the pavement and leave a little Paks shaped puddle on the sidewalk.

Still, she ran on. She had long ago run out of energy to do more than run. Well, that was mostly a lie. She had run out of energy to run a long long time ago. But it wasn't energy that propelled her forward now, it was desperation. And desperation had the benefit of not needing energy to function, in fact, it almost seemed to flourish better when there was a lack of energy. As if the dismal state of body increased the dismal state of mind.

Her breath rattled in her lungs, and Paks was surprised that she could still suck in each lovely gasp of oxygen through a throat that felt so closed. Still amazed that while her sight grew blurrier and blurrier, dark spots dancing across her vision, she could still move forward without running into things. Or, without running into them all that hard. At the moment, her forward motion was slower than it could be, resulting in a sluggish run, but also in the decidedly less painful impacts when she did managed to run into things.

Finally, the many factors threw their lots together and succeeded in stopping Paks' continuous run. They succeeded rather well, as Paks' vision swam, inky blackness coming up to swallow her whole. Watching as she collapsed, falling off to the side and under a particularly leafy tree. Somehow, the monsters that normally subsisted in the blackness disdained from coming forward, and just this once the inky darkness seemed more welcoming than the life in front of her.