Red Blossom

Red Blossom is a vision of beauty wrapped in danger.

She has long, flowing crimson-red hair that frames her pale features, and dark brown eyes that seem calm-until she cries. When tears fall, they are pitch black, staining her skin like ink, a sign that something inside her broke long ago and never healed properly.

She dresses in a crimson red and black gothic short dress, paired with fishnet stockings and knee-high black combat boots, worn not for fashion, but for movement, escape, and bloodstained nights. Every step she takes is deliberate, confident, and unnervingly graceful.

Her weapon of choice is unmistakable: a pair of giant, deadly sharp red scissors, constantly humming with crackling electricity. They are capable of cutting through flesh, bone, and steel alike-an extension of her hands, her will, her rage.

In battle, she scatters red heart confetti firecracker explosives-beautiful, deceptive bursts that explode in showers of crimson light and destruction. Love and violence are inseparable to her; one always follows the other.

When she kills, she hides her identity behind a red heart gothic Valentine's Day mask-ornate, unsettling, and symbolic. The mask turns her into a myth, a rumor whispered among survivors. No face. No mercy. Only the echo of scissors closing.