Post by Shinx on Jun 10, 2011 23:03:09 GMT -6
General Information
Name: Victoria Evangeline Castelle
Nickname: Ava; Ms. Poison
Bounty: 0 Beli
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Race: Human
Occupation: Pirate
Position: Cook
Birthmarks/Scars: she has her own personal jolly roger tattooed on her back (in the same spot as Ace’s). [x]
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Psyche Information
Likes: death, destruction, most things black and Gothic.
Dislikes: the color pink, happiness, children, questions, people in general, peace and serenity, clear blue skies, restless evenings and water.
Personality: As one could guess by looking at her ‘likes and dislikes’, Ava isn’t an agreeable person. In fact, the word agreeable would be afraid too go near her, because she’s very likely to spit on it for looking at her strangely. Ava is cruel hearted, mean and… well… sometimes she’s just plain evil.
Biography:
xxxAva wasn’t always as cruel hearted as she is now… okay, so yeah she was, but she has her reasons. From the age of three, Ava was abandoned by her parents on the front door step of an orphanage. The orphanage took her in, of course, but she was mistreated. To an outsider, it seemed unjust and undeserved. To the workers at the orphanage, they knew why. Ava’s parents were pirates, horrible pirates at that. The girl, once left, had injuries up and down her; from scratches to bullet wounds to burns, the girl had it all. The first week, they’d worked hard to get her to open up and tell them what had happened, but the girl fought them tooth and nail. So, she was given first aid, then put in the orphanage’s version of “Solitary Confinement.” Left in a room by herself so she wouldn’t hurt or influence the other children, that was Ava’s childhood.
xxxOne might think the pirate-like attitude the child possessed would simply go away after a while. Well, it didn't. In fact, solitary confinement and the constant ridicule of her peers made her hard and cruel. If they wanted to think of her as a monster, she would show them a monster. Ava, throughout her childhood, spent her time appearing as dark and evil as she could. She successfully scared away the other orphans, as well as most of the teachers. But then, there was always that one annoyingly persistant person convinced there was a drop of good in everyone. For Ava, it was Mrs. Crosse, her home-ec teacher.
xxxPerhaps it was Ava's interest in cooking that drew Mrs. Crosse closer, but either way, the woman was a persistant thorn in her side; one she couldn't dispose of without ruining her only true love; cooking. Perhaps it was the very fact that cooking was constructive that Ava liked; for a girl with such a destructive mind, personality and outlook, Ava needed something positive. Perhaps it was just because she was the only one in the class that wasn't constantly blowing things up. Knowing Ava, the latter was more likely. However, it was through Mrs. Crosse that Ava found her love of herbs... or, more specifically, poisons. Mrs. Crosse gave Ava a book teaching her about the differences between plants that hurt, and plants that help. Ava drank in the knowledge, reading the book in less than an hour and, for the rest of the month, committing every single plant inside to memory. When she was done with that, she expanded her knowledge, developing a library worthy of an apothecary. By the time she was fourteen, Ava was sent from the orphanage, sent away due to a collection of crushed powders hidden under her bed. Even then, however, Mrs. Crosse never gave up on her. In fact, she did quite the opposite. Ava, before she could be thrust into the cruel hearted town by herself, was adopted by Mrs. Crosse.
xxxWhat happened next, mind you, was completely Mrs. Crosse's fault. After all, a woman with child should be careful around a child that could be described as nothing less than a sociopath. Needless to say, Ava continued her experiments. She kept all different types of poisons in vials, pouches, all of which were crushed powders. They were harmless, really... unless inhaled or ingested. Which is exactly what Mrs. Crosse did; she happened across the poisons and sniffed them; the idiotic woman. Ava had no emotional ties with the woman, but had no desire to have two deaths blamed on her. She summoned the nearest doctor, and he was able to save Mrs. Crosse. But not the baby. Mrs. Crosse's husband- a travelling no-rank marine- returned home only a week later to see what had been done. He wanted Ava gone that moment; however, Mrs. Crosse still told her husband to leave the child be. "It wasn't her fault. She's just... curious."
xxxMost would expect Ava to turn over a new leaf, after this. To quit playing with poison and to learn more about cooking (which, she felt, she'd learned enough about). Again, Ava defied the logic of the weak and saw this as an example of the weakness in human nature. Love, caring, fondness and trusting were all complete and utter bullshit. Ava, a true sociopath, did as Mr. Crosse wanted and disappeared. At the young age of fifteen, she lived on the streets. By the time she was sixteen, she was on the seas as a cabin girl for some big-shot pirate. Well, said big shot killed his cook, and Ava, in turn, poisoned his soup. With the tyrannious captain dead, Ava was left to take his place. However, she simply appointed the first mate captian and took off in a rowboat to explore the world of piracy. She's constantly searching for a captain; a captain who's not an idiot, and a captain strong enough to take the Grand Line by storm. Now that's a captain she'd cook for. Without, you know, poisoning him.
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Combat Information
Weapon: technically speaking, Ava has eight weapons. Four pouches of different poisons lined along her the left side of her belt- the right side has four identicle poisons filled with the antidotes.
Fighting Style: Ava is ruthless. The very air the opponent breathes becomes a weapon against them; there's nothing they can do about poison. Ava takes the opponent down from the inside out. She relies on knowledge and speed rather than strength and, of course, makes sure she's always upwind.
Fighting Style Weakness: Gas masks. And strength. Separation from her belt with poisons latched on is damned near suicide. She's also weak, so being punched, kicked and shot at can result in a one hit KO. Shifting winds could also result in her own fate-- also, if the poisons are meant to be inhaled, they settle rather quickly. One could leap to a higher elevation and easily avoid an attack.
Devil Fruit: n/a
Special Techniques:
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Sample:
Name: Victoria Evangeline Castelle
Nickname: Ava; Ms. Poison
Bounty: 0 Beli
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Race: Human
Occupation: Pirate
Position: Cook
Birthmarks/Scars: she has her own personal jolly roger tattooed on her back (in the same spot as Ace’s). [x]
-------------------------------------------------------
Psyche Information
Likes: death, destruction, most things black and Gothic.
Dislikes: the color pink, happiness, children, questions, people in general, peace and serenity, clear blue skies, restless evenings and water.
Personality: As one could guess by looking at her ‘likes and dislikes’, Ava isn’t an agreeable person. In fact, the word agreeable would be afraid too go near her, because she’s very likely to spit on it for looking at her strangely. Ava is cruel hearted, mean and… well… sometimes she’s just plain evil.
Biography:
xxxAva wasn’t always as cruel hearted as she is now… okay, so yeah she was, but she has her reasons. From the age of three, Ava was abandoned by her parents on the front door step of an orphanage. The orphanage took her in, of course, but she was mistreated. To an outsider, it seemed unjust and undeserved. To the workers at the orphanage, they knew why. Ava’s parents were pirates, horrible pirates at that. The girl, once left, had injuries up and down her; from scratches to bullet wounds to burns, the girl had it all. The first week, they’d worked hard to get her to open up and tell them what had happened, but the girl fought them tooth and nail. So, she was given first aid, then put in the orphanage’s version of “Solitary Confinement.” Left in a room by herself so she wouldn’t hurt or influence the other children, that was Ava’s childhood.
xxxOne might think the pirate-like attitude the child possessed would simply go away after a while. Well, it didn't. In fact, solitary confinement and the constant ridicule of her peers made her hard and cruel. If they wanted to think of her as a monster, she would show them a monster. Ava, throughout her childhood, spent her time appearing as dark and evil as she could. She successfully scared away the other orphans, as well as most of the teachers. But then, there was always that one annoyingly persistant person convinced there was a drop of good in everyone. For Ava, it was Mrs. Crosse, her home-ec teacher.
xxxPerhaps it was Ava's interest in cooking that drew Mrs. Crosse closer, but either way, the woman was a persistant thorn in her side; one she couldn't dispose of without ruining her only true love; cooking. Perhaps it was the very fact that cooking was constructive that Ava liked; for a girl with such a destructive mind, personality and outlook, Ava needed something positive. Perhaps it was just because she was the only one in the class that wasn't constantly blowing things up. Knowing Ava, the latter was more likely. However, it was through Mrs. Crosse that Ava found her love of herbs... or, more specifically, poisons. Mrs. Crosse gave Ava a book teaching her about the differences between plants that hurt, and plants that help. Ava drank in the knowledge, reading the book in less than an hour and, for the rest of the month, committing every single plant inside to memory. When she was done with that, she expanded her knowledge, developing a library worthy of an apothecary. By the time she was fourteen, Ava was sent from the orphanage, sent away due to a collection of crushed powders hidden under her bed. Even then, however, Mrs. Crosse never gave up on her. In fact, she did quite the opposite. Ava, before she could be thrust into the cruel hearted town by herself, was adopted by Mrs. Crosse.
xxxWhat happened next, mind you, was completely Mrs. Crosse's fault. After all, a woman with child should be careful around a child that could be described as nothing less than a sociopath. Needless to say, Ava continued her experiments. She kept all different types of poisons in vials, pouches, all of which were crushed powders. They were harmless, really... unless inhaled or ingested. Which is exactly what Mrs. Crosse did; she happened across the poisons and sniffed them; the idiotic woman. Ava had no emotional ties with the woman, but had no desire to have two deaths blamed on her. She summoned the nearest doctor, and he was able to save Mrs. Crosse. But not the baby. Mrs. Crosse's husband- a travelling no-rank marine- returned home only a week later to see what had been done. He wanted Ava gone that moment; however, Mrs. Crosse still told her husband to leave the child be. "It wasn't her fault. She's just... curious."
xxxMost would expect Ava to turn over a new leaf, after this. To quit playing with poison and to learn more about cooking (which, she felt, she'd learned enough about). Again, Ava defied the logic of the weak and saw this as an example of the weakness in human nature. Love, caring, fondness and trusting were all complete and utter bullshit. Ava, a true sociopath, did as Mr. Crosse wanted and disappeared. At the young age of fifteen, she lived on the streets. By the time she was sixteen, she was on the seas as a cabin girl for some big-shot pirate. Well, said big shot killed his cook, and Ava, in turn, poisoned his soup. With the tyrannious captain dead, Ava was left to take his place. However, she simply appointed the first mate captian and took off in a rowboat to explore the world of piracy. She's constantly searching for a captain; a captain who's not an idiot, and a captain strong enough to take the Grand Line by storm. Now that's a captain she'd cook for. Without, you know, poisoning him.
-------------------------------------------------------
Combat Information
Weapon: technically speaking, Ava has eight weapons. Four pouches of different poisons lined along her the left side of her belt- the right side has four identicle poisons filled with the antidotes.
Fighting Style: Ava is ruthless. The very air the opponent breathes becomes a weapon against them; there's nothing they can do about poison. Ava takes the opponent down from the inside out. She relies on knowledge and speed rather than strength and, of course, makes sure she's always upwind.
Fighting Style Weakness: Gas masks. And strength. Separation from her belt with poisons latched on is damned near suicide. She's also weak, so being punched, kicked and shot at can result in a one hit KO. Shifting winds could also result in her own fate-- also, if the poisons are meant to be inhaled, they settle rather quickly. One could leap to a higher elevation and easily avoid an attack.
Devil Fruit: n/a
Special Techniques:
- Blaze: it is impossible to start a fire within the human body-- well, for Ava it is. She can, however, make your insides feel like their on fire. A simple orange powdery poison thrown in the air (or ingested) can cause a person to feel like their lungs, their stomachs and their intestines are all on fire. Eventually, the pain will knock them out, but the poison itself isn't deadly. The poison-powder is red.
- Haze: a handful of crushed poison can go a long way. Hands protected with leather gloves, Ava blows the poison towards her target with a wink. The poison spores spread out with the wind, creating an odd purple haze that, when inhaled, is deadly. Once breathed in, they have half an hour to get an antidote. If they go half an hour without an antidote, they have half an hour of a slow, painful death.
- Daze: there is such a powder Ava has learned to create that, within fifteen minutes of inhaling/ingesting, can cause amnesia. This handy little poison lodges itself in the person's mind, eating away at their memories until there simply aren't anymore. The poison itself is a bright orange, and once inhaled/ingested, the memories can never be regained.
- Taze: paralysis, no matter how temporary, is a terrible thing. Ava has this cute little yellow powder with the ability to, within five minutes, make a person incredibly sluggish. Take twenty minutes and their completely immobilized. The powder is far from temporary (it takes about two hours to be completely freed from a person's system).
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Sample:
Fire and brimstone, fire and brimstone. It was such a sad occurrence when an island had to be destroyed. Burned to the ground. Reduced to ash. However you phrase it, the effect was the same. Everything on the island had to go; had to die. Fire and brimstone; a symbol of the wrath of God. How funny… because to Ava, it wasn’t the wrath of God, rather the wrath of her current captain, Captain Marshall. Marshall was a funny man; a pirate, yes, but a loan shark as well. The town Ava was watching burn from the safety of her small rowboat was a dry, arid town. They were suffering through the worst drought in the history of history. No rain, no crops, nothing. No one had really come to their aid either (thanks to Captain Marshall’s men, who destroyed any incoming merchant and marine ships). Until, of course, their savior Captain Marshall came with loads of fresh water, exotic foods and supplies (all from said incoming merchant ships). The townsfolk accepted the pirate’s kindness, and threw a feast. However, they couldn’t pay the price for it. So, Ava, the agent of death- the Grim Reaper of the Red Sea Pirates- had gone in and set a bomb under the mayor’s office, under the guise of a plumber. Of course, she knew nothing of plumbing or bombs- both were positions the other crewmates had fixed for her, making the job simple and easy. A push of a button, then an hour to run. Ava did run; she ran a good thirty meters out to sea, then got out the binoculars to watch the explosion. It was beautiful; fire and brimstone. Destruction and death. All foreign concepts, all brilliantly executed.
Ha. Executed.
Once Ava had gotten her fill of the death and destruction on the island, she began to row northward. As he always was, Captain Marshall was awaiting her return. “Great job, Ava, you’re my favorite little assassin. I’ll have you know the cabin boys have the kitchen ready and prepped for your return…”
Ava scowled. She hated the cabin boys. She hated everyone in the crew, actually. And while it was bringing in her own bit of wealth and fame, Ava was getting sick of her idiotic crew mates and her idiotic captain. “I’ll be finished with dinner in under an hour,” Ava replied, shortly. She shut the door to the kitchen before the captain could follow her inside; which was good. He was a leech; a stupid, annoying leech that hid behind the power of his subordinates. And Ava wouldn’t be his subordinate for long. She decided to make something simple this time; soup. She started on the broth, sprinkling in the perfect amount of herbs and seasonings, bringing it to a boil and adding flour and milk so it’d thicken nicely. After that she added in tomatoes, potatoes, three types of meat (chunks of steak, chicken and salmon) and lastly, a sprinkle of her purple magic ingredient. With no one around to witness it, Ava grinned. Perfect.
Dinner was passed out accordingly. Captain Marshall sat at the head of the table, his first mate to his immediate right, Ava to his left. He carried on through the meal as everyone else did. The food was delicious, they said. The mixed drinks were better. Everything was divine. Half an hour into dinner, the first moron fell face-first into his second helpings. The others looked at him, like it was a huge mystery. Then another fell, then another and another. “A-Ava…?” Marshall asked. His eyes were watering; no doubt his throat was swelling. With one last gasp, he collapsed into his own soup as well. This continued until everyone at the table was dead; except Ava.
“An explanation is in order,” she said, talking to the corpses. “You see, I find your existence coarse, vulgar and unnecessary, so I took it into my own hands to end it.” Ava took another sip of her drink and stood. “I poisoned the soup; that much should be obvious to all of you.” Walking towards the door to the kitchen, she cast one last look to the dead crew. “What’s that Marshall? I ate the soup too? I did.” She grinned, “but mine was the only drink with the antidote.” Running a hand through her hair and batting her eyes, she grinned. “Goodbye for now and forever, you lifeless fools.” Ava, without any further narrations, walked to the edge of the ship and jumped down into her boat. The first thing she did was unlatch Marshall’s jolly roger from above the sail, dropping it into the water. For a moment, it lay flat on the surface, it’s gaping eyeholes glaring accusingly at her, until it sank down to Davy Jones’ locker. Unlatching the boat from Marshall’s ship, she chuckled to herself. Instead of progressing into some comment about just what as so funny, the chuckle evolved into a laugh. As the boat disappeared completely from the ship’s sight, all that could be heard was Ava’s insane and sinister laughter.
Ha. Executed.
Once Ava had gotten her fill of the death and destruction on the island, she began to row northward. As he always was, Captain Marshall was awaiting her return. “Great job, Ava, you’re my favorite little assassin. I’ll have you know the cabin boys have the kitchen ready and prepped for your return…”
Ava scowled. She hated the cabin boys. She hated everyone in the crew, actually. And while it was bringing in her own bit of wealth and fame, Ava was getting sick of her idiotic crew mates and her idiotic captain. “I’ll be finished with dinner in under an hour,” Ava replied, shortly. She shut the door to the kitchen before the captain could follow her inside; which was good. He was a leech; a stupid, annoying leech that hid behind the power of his subordinates. And Ava wouldn’t be his subordinate for long. She decided to make something simple this time; soup. She started on the broth, sprinkling in the perfect amount of herbs and seasonings, bringing it to a boil and adding flour and milk so it’d thicken nicely. After that she added in tomatoes, potatoes, three types of meat (chunks of steak, chicken and salmon) and lastly, a sprinkle of her purple magic ingredient. With no one around to witness it, Ava grinned. Perfect.
Dinner was passed out accordingly. Captain Marshall sat at the head of the table, his first mate to his immediate right, Ava to his left. He carried on through the meal as everyone else did. The food was delicious, they said. The mixed drinks were better. Everything was divine. Half an hour into dinner, the first moron fell face-first into his second helpings. The others looked at him, like it was a huge mystery. Then another fell, then another and another. “A-Ava…?” Marshall asked. His eyes were watering; no doubt his throat was swelling. With one last gasp, he collapsed into his own soup as well. This continued until everyone at the table was dead; except Ava.
“An explanation is in order,” she said, talking to the corpses. “You see, I find your existence coarse, vulgar and unnecessary, so I took it into my own hands to end it.” Ava took another sip of her drink and stood. “I poisoned the soup; that much should be obvious to all of you.” Walking towards the door to the kitchen, she cast one last look to the dead crew. “What’s that Marshall? I ate the soup too? I did.” She grinned, “but mine was the only drink with the antidote.” Running a hand through her hair and batting her eyes, she grinned. “Goodbye for now and forever, you lifeless fools.” Ava, without any further narrations, walked to the edge of the ship and jumped down into her boat. The first thing she did was unlatch Marshall’s jolly roger from above the sail, dropping it into the water. For a moment, it lay flat on the surface, it’s gaping eyeholes glaring accusingly at her, until it sank down to Davy Jones’ locker. Unlatching the boat from Marshall’s ship, she chuckled to herself. Instead of progressing into some comment about just what as so funny, the chuckle evolved into a laugh. As the boat disappeared completely from the ship’s sight, all that could be heard was Ava’s insane and sinister laughter.
