Tick, tock, round we go. Where it stops, nobody knows.
Name: Imogen (Gene, preferably) Swan, if you know her well. Miss Swan for any other circumstance.
Age: Well, let's see...born in 1840, killed brutally in 1867...Twenty-seven in appearance, but if we're getting technical, she is one-hundred and eighty thanks to self-preservation and Hell itself. Every year is important.
Gender: Female
Faction: Wraith
Appearance: Gene has always been a rather pretty woman, but the connotations of that word have changed throughout the years. She used to have a softness to her, a fragility stamped across the smoothness of her forehead and porcelain grooves shaven down beneath her cheekbones. Wind and death has eroded her roundness into something sharp, striking, pointed. Her brows sit thick and challenging above grey-green eyes, eyes that are always off observing something or someone. Her shoulders, even, are bony and positioned high above the ground. Sometimes, they enjoy dark brown hair, but whenever she wishes to uphold an air of superiority which is, let's be honest, most of the time, she tightens it into a bun. Then again, her appearance really just needs to suit her needs for the day, whether it be commandeering other little creatures of little relevance or the occasional Satanic ritual.
Personality: Picture a young woman with plenty of hope placed in her young bones. She had a brother and a sister and a grandmother, all sitting at home in wait of her return, but imagine their surprise when she simply never did! She just wanted the medicine for that old laboring brother, but she'd taken it from the wrong faction in her desperation, and the supernatural struck her down. Subsequently, her brother died from his illnesses, and her seething anger kept her soul alive and continues to do so even now. She doesn't let it consume her, no, she knows the consequences of that; instead, she lets it burn long and slow, and she releases it with wicked smiles and raised brows and the vicious order for others to solve the problems that she can't, lest she wishes to burn herself out entirely. Sometimes, though, she has her moments. Hell, she'd been quick to temper in life, but now? She has enough in reserve to last her plenty more years. Still, do not take her for a woman who acts on impulse: she is observant and intelligent and an excellent strategist when she needs to be. Her connections are wide and sprawling, thanks to falsified charm, so, y'know, watch where you place your feet.
Other: Miss Swan had been one of the Enlightened before all this. How else would she know who to steal from? That being said, the side effects of that have trickled down into her current situation, thank you, and good night.
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Author Games: Empty Night
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