Destiny

Name: Destiny "Dezzy" Star
Age: 25
Birthdate: December 19th
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Omnisexual
Rank: Sargent (C-Rank)

Village: Hanagakure
Element(s): Futon (B-Rank)
Specialties: Weapons Tech (C-Rank)
Special Characteristics:

Pain Addiction:

Height: 5 Foot 4 Inches
Weight: 120 Pounds
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Molten-Silver
General Description: Destiny wears black leather pants that disappear into black combat boots. Her top is likewise made out of a leather material with long sleeves and a red lining; this top shows off a fair amount of cleavage and clings to her thin yet athletic looking figure. She wears black fingerless gloves on her hands and can often be found wearing a duster, red in color, over top of her outfit.

She wears black eyeliner, and black mascara coats thick and full eyelashes. Dark eye shadow and a dark red lipstick complete her make up. Her hair is often worn down and parted on the left side of her head.



Personality: ”Killing is my business and my pleasure.”
No truer words were likely ever spoken for any female, or likely any male for that matter. What to some would cause panic attacks, fear, the sweats, badly frayed nerves, or a total and complete utter meltdown causes great deals of mental and emotional pleasure for Destiny. There is almost nothing she enjoys more in this life then to be able to watch the light fade out of her enemies eyes as death wraps his bony hand around their throats and drags them into the firey pits of Hell.

”There is a special seat reserved for you in Hell, but before you get there let me introduce you to Hell on Earth.”
In Destiny's mind there is no greater sin, no worse crime, then to harm an innocent – especially a child. When it comes to handling those who have committed such an act the true inner sadist that is Destiny comes to the surface. Her addiction to pain, to the suffering of others, rears its ugly head and ends up in full swing. She'll torture someone for hours, days, weeks: as long as it takes to make them break. As long as it takes for them to beg for death – and even then she holds back, even then she makes them suffer more.

”Band-aids don't fix bullet holes.”
For every action there is a reaction; for every word spoken there is a consequence. Destiny is the type of person who doesn't believe in words, but in actions. Don't talk about it, be about it. The best of liars can spin a tale worthy of all ears, but only when actions have been revealed does the truth come out and true intentions become known. Because of this philosophy Destiny isn't very trusting of others: only those who have proved their words through their actions are allowed in her 'inner most circle' as she fondly puts it.

”Now we've got bad blood...”
There is only one strict rule that Destiny sticks to when dealing with everyone: you keep family and friends out of it. If you have a problem with her then you bring it to her. You don't involve her family, and you don't involve her friends. To do so is to bring death upon yourself; the Dark Angelic Reaper who will come to claim your soul: who will come to peel your flesh from your bone one later at a time.

History: ”The gift of life, the death of innocence.”
Destiny's birth was not a gift, it was a curse. Her mother was a whore; a prostitute who spent the majority of her life on her back doing the only thing she was ever good at. Her mother, Raquel, had no idea who Destiny's father was, and from the time the girl was two or three years old it became quite clear to the child that her mother didn't care. The topic of her father became a taboo; something that wasn't spoken of in or out of the house. To Raquel as it became clear Destiny was nothing more then a burden: something unwanted and not needed in her life. A mouth to feed and a body to clothe that she didn't want to bother putting money into. Destiny was often neglected, or left to fend for herself: something that taught her early on the skills of survival. You survived and adapted, or you died, there was no in between.

By the time that Destiny was roughly four or five years old her mother's 'profession' had become known to her. It was a usual sight to see her mother return home with one, two, or sometimes even three or four guys – different faces the majority of the time. While her mother was 'entertaining' her guests Destiny was often locked in her bedroom – out of sight, and out of mind. She had been taught not to make a sound and not to be disruptive: both would get her a beating later because it would cost her mother money.

”There's something terribly wrong here with your child.”
Destiny was enrolled in school at the age of five and she found herself thinking – at first – that she was in heaven. She loved to learn, and she loved the idea of no longer having to spend long hours locked in her room while her mother 'worked'. However, whatever dreams and delusions that Destiny had had about school from watching television were quickly shattered.

By the time she was in her second year of schooling her mother had shown her face just enough for rumors to begin to spread. Parents would see her, recognize her for various reasons – either for hearing of what she did for a living, or using her services themselves – and would quickly warn their children to 'stay away from the whore's daughter' and 'not to mix with the trash'. This of course led to Destiny being the brunt of bullying: at first it was nothing more then teasing, but by the time that Destiny was eight years old she found herself cornered by three larger girls. They were the usual breed of high and mighty – the kind who had money and who liked to flaunt it. They wore the best clothing, had the best school supplies, and they let everyone know it. They had picked on Destiny before, and it was nothing she wasn't used to up until that point, but then they began to shove her. They pushed, they shoved, and Destiny fell down. It was then that something happened: what should have caused a pain response – something Destiny knew from seeing other children fell – instead caused a pleasure one. She got back to her feet only to be shoved down again, and once more this reaction happened: pleasure instead of pain.

By now a crowd was growing – fights at school were always a rare thing to see – and as Destiny got to her feet she knew she couldn't let herself keep getting pushed around like she was. Instead, she struck back – she swung on the girl who had done the shoving and punched her right in her face. Despite her size and age Destiny had always been physically strong and she broke the other girl's perfect nose quickly enough. That wasn't enough though: upon realizing how much she had enjoyed hitting her she began to do it again and again and again. To this day Destiny doesn't know how long she beat the girl for, or how many times she hit her, but it wasn't until the P.E teacher pulled her off and dragged her away did the beating stop. Her mother was called into the office, as were the police. Thankfully for Destiny the guidance counselors stuck up for her and allowed it to be known that there had been many incidents of bullying in the past, and that Destiny had simply been defending herself.

That appeased the police – though they warned her of the harsh consequences of it every happening again – but it didn't appease her mother. She was locked in her room for a week, not even allowed to go to school. She had, thankfully, stored up some snacks and bottles of water, but even those supplies depleted quickly. There was no sign that her mother was going to let up, and that in itself told her that her mother likely planned on letting her die in there. So, Destiny picked the lock on her window and escaped.

”A deal with the Devil or with a Saint?”
She took to the streets for several years until someone stumbled across her beating on someone else: some guy had attempted to steal a woman's purse and Destiny had decided to deal out some justice. Her fighting ability, despite being untrained, was enough to have this guy taking her in: he owned a dojo in Hanagakure and hadn't seen skill like hers in a long time – even though it was unrefined. He called himself Mencheres. They struck a deal: he would pay for her schooling, her clothing, and her food and lodging while she would spend her evenings training and fighting for him. It was a good bargain, and far better then living on the streets, and so the deal was struck. By the age of eleven Destiny was a fighter by evening and a scholar by day.

She finished her schooling quickly, due to her dedication to it and having the best selection of private tutors, and made up for it by fighting and winning in tournaments and competitions. By the age of sixteen she had officially graduated from school despite the several years of a 'break' between classes. She dedicated the next year to fighting until the death of Mencheres: who left her his dojo in his will.


"Business or pleasure? How about both?"
Wanting to do more with her life she joined the Hanagakure military while at the same time continuing to run her dojo. While she didn't allow many to get close to her - preferring to go on missions and the like solo as much as possible - there was one person that stuck out among the rest. Drake, a man she had seen around rather frequently in her dojo but who up until that point she hadn't really bothered to get to know. However, they were assigned a mission together and their methods... well, they seemed to match. To say that the violence that day was an understatement, and a friendship was formed...

RP Sample: She felt the flesh rendered away as her dagger pierced clean and true through her victim's stomach. The gagging gasp that came forth from the male was like music to her ears, as was the pained groan that followed. The man was just about to close his eyes when a pissed off hiss escaped Destiny: 'Oh, the hell you are going to rob me of this!'. She reached up with her free hand and yanked the man's head back hard by his short black hair. His eyes snapped open and it gave her exactly what she wanted: the chance to see the light fade from his eyes.

Blood spurted from his lips, running down his mouth and spraying across Destiny's cleavage and throat. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. Nothing but the chance to see that light fade; the chance to watch death wrap his bony hands around this sinner's throat and drag him into the depths of Hell where he would surely spend the rest of eternity. She put pressure on the dagger's hilt, increasing the pain and gaining herself a screamed yelp of a sound as more blood poured from her victim's mouth.

“That's right; scream. I enjoy it. I love it. Come on... you got more in you then that.” With the words spoken Destiny began to twist the dagger still plunged into her victim. It didn't take long to coax the screams out: boy could this guy sing.

And then it was all over too quickly; perhaps it was the wound in the man's gut, or the pain, or the loss of blood, or maybe even a combination of all of the above. Either way, the light faded from his eyes and the full weight of his body came upon the dagger. Destiny jerked him back, pulling her jagged knife out of his gut as she did so. He was trash now and therefore that was where she left him: in the alley way where she had hunted him down, among the rest of the garbage bags waiting to be picked up in a few hours. Chuckling to herself Destiny turned and walked away – that was another lesson taught, and another hard lesson learned.

Faceclaim: Google

Bump for completion. No idea how to get rid of the extra coding; when I go to edit my app it's not there. And I've reposted the application twice now and it keeps showing up.