Jun 1, 2023 1:21:05 GMT
Jackie Maradona likes this
Post by 𝐒 𝐀 𝐋 𝐄 𝐌 on Jun 1, 2023 1:21:05 GMT
Credits to @rx for the template
⌜ S A L E M ⌟
.O V E R V I E W.
REAL NAME: Yerenika Sumire Voronya
CIVILIAN IDENTITY: Shiho Yasuharu (安春 志保 Yasuharu [peaceful spring] Shiho [to protect aspirations])
EPITHETS: Mother of Demons | The Unburned
AGE: 20
BIRTHPLACE: St Petersburg, Russia
SIGN: ☼ Virgo, ⇧ Pisces, ☾ Taurus
PLAYLIST: heart-eater
GENDER: Cisgender Female — She / Her
SEXUALITY: Grey Aromantic + Grey-Asexual
AFFILIATION: Villain
ALIAS: Salem
OCCUPATION:
.P E R S O N A L I T Y.
» POSITIVE TRAITS: 🩸 Patient | » NEGATIVE TRAITS:🥀 Very straightforward. |
» LIKES:🥀 Threadwork | » DISLIKES:🩸 Paperwork |
To others, she is the cold and exacting Salem, vengeful mistress of a radical anti-government terrorist organization that has spent recent years operating in the shadows throughout the great expanse of Russia.
To Tokyo, she is the gentle and demure Shiho Yasuharu, a half Russian, half Japanese young woman and recent immigrant who happens to be the owner of a humble and traditional herbal apothecary in Shibuya.
And to the heroes of Japan… she is a creeping nightmare, slowly encroaching upon all their hopes, dreams, and the ivory pedestals they’ve perched upon for a long, long time.
Here are the beliefs that lie at the core of her being:
- No one on this world is born with more or less inherent worth than any other. No one comes out the gate any better or lesser than any other. There is inherent worth, value, in every life - whether that worth grows or lessens is the product of what one makes of it; their own choices, and the reasons behind those choices. Nothing more, nothing less. (You can choose wrong.)
- This world’s reverent idolization of pro-heroes will only hurt it in the long run. Being so dependent on someone else to protect you can only weaken you; how will you know how to defend yourself, your neighbors, your own, if you’ve spent your whole life relying on someone else to do it? A super-powered militia made up of gaudy, glittering false gods that puts statistics and rankings before the interests of the people, at that.
- The innocent are meant to be protected. Given the tools to learn about the world around them and themselves. Taught how to defend themselves and each other. To lay a hand on the innocent is to consign yourself to the fires of the underworld, and she is all too willing to expedite your trip.
With one hand, she culls corruption with force and bloodshed, because the only thing some people understand is power, and pain, and fear. With the other, she dedicates resources to the rehabilitation and bolstering others who are still young enough, still moldable enough to do better. To do right by themselves and others. Establishing community gardens, building and renovating schools, orphanages, housing, and ensuring with an iron fist that they are run well and by only those with the best interests of those they serve at heart — this is her life’s work.
At the core of it all, she simply wants to make the world better. It wronged her, ruined her, and she wants to make sure it doesn’t do the same to those who come after her. She doesn’t care how bloodied her hands become in the process. Anything to ensure that brighter future.
Независимо от стоимости.
.A P P E A R A N C E.
» HEIGHT: 152 cm (5'4")
» WEIGHT: 58 kg (128 lbs)
» EYE COLOR: Teal / Red
» HAIR COLOR: Pink / White
» SKIN COLOR: Fair / Corpse-pale
» FACE CLAIM NAME: Mitsuri Kanroji / Female Slayer Line
» FACE CLAIM SERIES: Demon Slayer / Dungeon Fighters Online
Lithe and shapely, with hair that cascades down her back in sheets of pure white so long as to reach the floor when not somehow caught or tied, and sharp eyes that shine blood-red, she is… uncanny. Unnatural-seeming, almost, to the point where one might suspect surgery or procedure causing her to look the way she does, erasing all that could mar a perfect visage. And true, once, she was a canvas of scars, a living tally of all the horrors she’d survived. But in this world, presentation is everything, and she is uniquely equipped to ensure her own presentation remains, at all times… flawless. Now her skin is smooth as polished alabaster, nary a blemish to be seen, and any physical mark that once tied her to her miserable past has been wiped away - for all that the scars within her can never truly be washed away.
» WEIGHT: 58 kg (128 lbs)
» EYE COLOR: Teal / Red
» HAIR COLOR: Pink / White
» SKIN COLOR: Fair / Corpse-pale
» FACE CLAIM NAME: Mitsuri Kanroji / Female Slayer Line
» FACE CLAIM SERIES: Demon Slayer / Dungeon Fighters Online
Lithe and shapely, with hair that cascades down her back in sheets of pure white so long as to reach the floor when not somehow caught or tied, and sharp eyes that shine blood-red, she is… uncanny. Unnatural-seeming, almost, to the point where one might suspect surgery or procedure causing her to look the way she does, erasing all that could mar a perfect visage. And true, once, she was a canvas of scars, a living tally of all the horrors she’d survived. But in this world, presentation is everything, and she is uniquely equipped to ensure her own presentation remains, at all times… flawless. Now her skin is smooth as polished alabaster, nary a blemish to be seen, and any physical mark that once tied her to her miserable past has been wiped away - for all that the scars within her can never truly be washed away.
When playing the role of humble Shiho Yasuharu, she is most often in one delicate floral-printed yukata or another, her soft pink hair braided back from her face. Salem on the other hand, wears a black mask over the lower half of her face, the upper half obscured by round ‘sunglasses’ with polycarbonate lenses and stone-like frames of a marbled plastic polymer. The outfits she wears speak for themself - though where one might see skin and expect to find it bare and unprotected, they will always find some sheer layer preventing contact. The message is clear: you may look, but you will not touch. Not so easily, at least.
.H I S T O R Y.
In this world of gods and monsters among men, her history is surely a dime a dozen; a patchwork quilt of tragedies that hardly bears worth repeating. But every cautionary tale has a purpose.
It goes like this.
Once upon a time, there was an international multi-millionaire corporation that dealt in arms, medicine, and security. This corporation was called Vasily Corp., and had branches all over the western world. Then humanity evolved superhuman abilities now known as Quirks, stalling technological and societal advancement for nearly a hundred years as all hell broke loose amongst a world now full of gods and monsters alike, and those in power looked among themselves and came to a realization: if they wanted to stay in power, there was work to be done. Strings to pull, contingencies to put in place, progress that needed to be achieved lest they risk falling into irrelevance entirely.
Flash forward to, let’s say, twenty years ago…
Born in captivity and raised in torture and solitude, with only stories of a world in which she would someday fulfill some greater purpose for company; the woman now known primarily as Salem was fashioned from birth to entertain the fantasies of powerful men who wanted to wield powerful playthings. Captivity and pain was all she knew. But one day, mysterious circumstances occurred within the facility secretly helmed by Vasily Corp (still vastly influential all these years and societal evolutions later), and all hell broke loose - including a non-negligible number of the hellions of Vasily’s own making.
Of course, they were a megacorporation with countless resources at their disposal, and she was but one girl, fifteen years old and all alone in a world that she had never experienced before. It wasn’t too long, scarcely a few months, before they were able to recapture her and drag her back to the austere iron walls of the facility and the cell walls she’d always known.
But first: she saw towns, and villages, and cities. She saw people of every age, and the world in which they lived - a world in flames. A world that exploited the very people she’d been created to supposedly protect. Disappointment, horror, and sorrow are hardly enough to encompass all the things she felt, and all the things she saw and experienced. But she also saw, for the first time, love in all its forms – the bonds between people, those who leaned on each other for some reason or another, those who truly loved each other, and those who simply cared for and looked out for one another for their own reasons, or because they believed it was right.
And she found hope.
The lab did indeed eventually catch her and drag her back. This time, however, she did not go as an empty shell, accustomed only to the cruel hand she had been dealt - rather, she was filled with a burning desire to make the world better. For the innocent and repenting, for the people who suffer needlessly; she found herself truly awake for the first time, and found that she couldn’t bear to let them close her eyes again.
So. She was returned to the palm of the devil’s hand. She was used in every way that a body can be used (because that is what she was regarded as: a body, bare of any such thing as a heart or soul). She was hurt, in every way a body can be hurt when it is for the sake of progress and innovation. And she was a young woman, shrewd and hungry and furious, and worst of all, underestimated.
See — you do not feed a starving beast, by accident or otherwise, and expect it not to lunge for more.
In the time since then, she has torn down those responsible for her suffering and rebuilt from the ruins of their dynasty of wealth and cruelty and corruption. There’s no need to get into the gory details. All that matters is that where there once stood a towering facility in which children were raised, experimented on, and tortured for the sake of ‘the greater good’, some twisted idea of innovation and evolution, she has raised a sprawling network of buildings to house, teach, and rehabilitate the innocents harmed by that relentless grasping lust for hoarding power and influence to no ends.
In the power vacuum left behind by the gilded blood on her hands, she has supplanted those she trusts - the small number of former experiments like herself, allied to her cause. Formerly hoarded wealth is directed through projects and accounts to build and renovate schools, homes, orphanages, etcetera, overseen by yet more of her own people.
Unfortunately, in the great purge, some rats escaped. Fled to all the corners of the world, on planes and ships and any method of transportation that could carry them. So the hunt continues, and her blood-red gaze turns towards the Eastern world, led by a single clue of her heritage left behind in the very name she recovered from the ruins of her cage.
Sumire, it said. Sumire Voronya.
Well, as they say… the work never ends.
Flash forward to, let’s say, twenty years ago…
Born in captivity and raised in torture and solitude, with only stories of a world in which she would someday fulfill some greater purpose for company; the woman now known primarily as Salem was fashioned from birth to entertain the fantasies of powerful men who wanted to wield powerful playthings. Captivity and pain was all she knew. But one day, mysterious circumstances occurred within the facility secretly helmed by Vasily Corp (still vastly influential all these years and societal evolutions later), and all hell broke loose - including a non-negligible number of the hellions of Vasily’s own making.
Of course, they were a megacorporation with countless resources at their disposal, and she was but one girl, fifteen years old and all alone in a world that she had never experienced before. It wasn’t too long, scarcely a few months, before they were able to recapture her and drag her back to the austere iron walls of the facility and the cell walls she’d always known.
But first: she saw towns, and villages, and cities. She saw people of every age, and the world in which they lived - a world in flames. A world that exploited the very people she’d been created to supposedly protect. Disappointment, horror, and sorrow are hardly enough to encompass all the things she felt, and all the things she saw and experienced. But she also saw, for the first time, love in all its forms – the bonds between people, those who leaned on each other for some reason or another, those who truly loved each other, and those who simply cared for and looked out for one another for their own reasons, or because they believed it was right.
And she found hope.
The lab did indeed eventually catch her and drag her back. This time, however, she did not go as an empty shell, accustomed only to the cruel hand she had been dealt - rather, she was filled with a burning desire to make the world better. For the innocent and repenting, for the people who suffer needlessly; she found herself truly awake for the first time, and found that she couldn’t bear to let them close her eyes again.
So. She was returned to the palm of the devil’s hand. She was used in every way that a body can be used (because that is what she was regarded as: a body, bare of any such thing as a heart or soul). She was hurt, in every way a body can be hurt when it is for the sake of progress and innovation. And she was a young woman, shrewd and hungry and furious, and worst of all, underestimated.
See — you do not feed a starving beast, by accident or otherwise, and expect it not to lunge for more.
In the time since then, she has torn down those responsible for her suffering and rebuilt from the ruins of their dynasty of wealth and cruelty and corruption. There’s no need to get into the gory details. All that matters is that where there once stood a towering facility in which children were raised, experimented on, and tortured for the sake of ‘the greater good’, some twisted idea of innovation and evolution, she has raised a sprawling network of buildings to house, teach, and rehabilitate the innocents harmed by that relentless grasping lust for hoarding power and influence to no ends.
In the power vacuum left behind by the gilded blood on her hands, she has supplanted those she trusts - the small number of former experiments like herself, allied to her cause. Formerly hoarded wealth is directed through projects and accounts to build and renovate schools, homes, orphanages, etcetera, overseen by yet more of her own people.
Unfortunately, in the great purge, some rats escaped. Fled to all the corners of the world, on planes and ships and any method of transportation that could carry them. So the hunt continues, and her blood-red gaze turns towards the Eastern world, led by a single clue of her heritage left behind in the very name she recovered from the ruins of her cage.
Sumire, it said. Sumire Voronya.
Well, as they say… the work never ends.
.Q U I R K.
.A U T O N O M I A.
MUTATION / EMITTER — A
TL:DR; The user is able to freely manipulate her body to an extensive degree, up to and including the properties and functions of her very cells.
DESCRIPTION
Bio-manipulation. She has complete control over and can manipulate her body down to the cellular level, including altering the properties, functioning, and state of matter from as little as a fingertip to as much as every inch of her flesh, blood, and bone. However: while she can alter her pigmentation and the like as she wishes, she cannot shape-shift. Nor can she make herself into another substance entirely - metal or acid or any other wondrous conception of elements. Also evading her is the ability to generate more of herself at will; all that she can work with is that which already exists. To create a construct, for example, she would require the equivalent amount of her own body’s material - a difficult thing to acquire (depending on said material) without debilitating herself in the process.
🩸🩸🩸
DRAWBACKS:
First and foremost, Yerenika’s body is fundamentally unstable. It resists keeping itself together - resists life itself, it seems. Part of her concentration must often go toward consistent repair and upkeep of her internal functions, lest her organs fail entirely and cause her to succumb to her body’s ever-determined march towards its own demise. Furthermore, her abilities are limited by the scope of her own knowledge and imagination. If she can’t conceive of how to enact a certain effect or change within her body, she can’t magically make it happen - she has to understand exactly what she’s changing, how, and where. This is also all a double-edged blade - every effect she alters and maintains upon her body requires concentration. The greater the amount of herself she manipulates as separate quantities, the more fractured that concentration becomes.
To keep up her body’s stores of blood and bone and flesh, the components she manipulates most often and thus that require the most maintenance, she needs to eat. A lot. Nutrition is essential to ensuring that the body has what it needs to regenerate, and she’s no different - her diet requires foods to boost hemoglobin production and iron absorption, as well as protein, minerals, and vitamins for the making and regeneration of her bone stores.
.A T T R I B U T E S.
"Silence is complicity, as they say."
| » AWARENESS — B- There is little she tends to miss when on her guard. Which is almost all of the time. | » VITALITY — C+ Hardly superhuman, but she can certainly keep up in a footrace. Or a chase, if necessary. |
| » DURABILITY — D+ 'Unsatisfactory' by standards held to her by herself alone. For now, at least. | » SPEED — A+ There is little that can break her stride, and littler still that can slow her down. |
| » DEXTERITY — B- Her precision, once applied, can reach a nigh surgical degree that would awe any medical student. | » STRENGTH — B- Packs considerably more of a punch than you would expect of her slender stature. |
Limit Breakers: 6 Available | 3/45 Used
.S K I L L S + G E A R.
🩸 🥀 🩸 🥀 🩸
Let's dive in.
(Learned skills, honed specializations, gear, etc.)
🩸 🥀 🩸 🥀 🩸
Let's dive in.
(Learned skills, honed specializations, gear, etc.)
🩸 🥀 🩸 🥀 🩸
.ФАТА-МОРГАНА.
(SKILL) FATA MORGANA — B-
A style of combat that prioritizes speed, agility, striking force, and a certain degree of flexibility. Fata Morgana is uniquely adaptable in its nature, as it can utilize any sharp/sharp-edged object or material, provided that the weapon in use is able to withstand the force being acted upon it. The style was originally developed by Salem for the sake of survival in the midst of bloodshed and pandemonium, but has been honed over the years to become a more widely applicable (though no less deadly) art.
