Stabinae

[STABINAE]

STABINAE

I believe in nothing, 100 suns until we part
I believe in nothing, not in sin, not in god
I believe in nothing, not in peace and not in war
I believe in nothing but the truth of who we are...

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YES I'M BACK IN BLACK;;

STYLE: Non Canon
NAME: Stabinae ' Emily Crowe '
DOB: Unknown ( ancient )
GENDER: Female
SPECIES: Demon
SUB: Shackinjira ( demonic creature originating from the pit )
POWER/ABILITY:
- Immortality; A shackinjira does not die - of natural causes, anyway - unless, presumedly, it's 'destroyed'. Old age, illness, and accidents that would snuff the life of any human do not seem to effect them. Additionally, as no one has ever actually succeeded in killing one of the 'Rogue Five' - at least, not since the demon Choronzon's slaying of Moriscula in 1229 - there's no firm evidence to signify which methods are fatal to them. As they are demonic creatures they are certainly not invulnerable to things like iron, rock salt and holy water, but when it comes to actually dropping down and dying the shackinjira are very, very stubborn...

- 'Fading' - shackinjira flickers or fades out of sight, to appear elsewhere. Works over long distances, ie a few hundred miles, with little negative repercussions for the shackinjira; exact range unknown. Requires a certain amount of focus and psychological balance on the shackinjira's behalf; one about to Fade can be stopped by being distracted ( splashed with holy water, having its Title called, etc ). Obviously, Fading cannot work if a shackinjira is stuck in a Devil's Trap, nor does it allow them to cross salt lines.

-'Screeching' - an unearthly, high-pitched sound that incapacitates - depending on the type of demon - demons and/or lesser angelic beings. A loud, last-resort method of self-defense, this ability is rarely used; very painful to the ears of any human within hearing range, and due to the strength of the sonic wave fragile objects ( ie glass, china, pottery) can be cracked or smashed. Overall, this 'power' is not at all subtle, which goes against a shackinjira's reclusive nature. If used, it's usually to startle/overwhelm an enemy so as to allow the shackinjira's swift escape.
Can be prevented or resisted by binding sigils on vessels, or ( like with Fading ) distracting the shackinjira and forcing it to lose focus.

- 'Interference' - effecting electrical appliances or the weather, ie thunderstorms [ a subconscious trait when provoked; otherwise, the shackinjira themselves do not appear to have much control over this 'power'. ]

- 'Intimidation' - A conscious ability that can, with practice, be used at almost any time. Generally occurs with feeling severe vexation and/or homicidal intent, can also subconsciously be used when feeling cornered. Creates tangible, almost electric 'crackling' tension in the air; negatively effects thinking process of other beings - humans in particular, who become more prone to panic and mass hysteria (if in a group). Weaker humans, ie civilians unused to the supernatural world, are occasionally 'paralyzed' by fear. In combination with Interference, this is a good defensive tactic.

- 'Venomous' - toxins in saliva; painful, long-lasting, not usually fatal. Humans in weaker physical shape ( already injured, sick, stressed etc) prone to going into shock and/or becoming briefly comatose, depending on concentration of dose. 'Full dose' or 'Laced bite' - mortal-wound bite such as in the throat, skull etc, delivered with homicidal intent - rumouredly kills demons outright, but in the rare situation where a shackinjira has done so, there have been survivors to dispute that claim... Nonetheless, this a legitimate reason for foes to keep their distance. Shackinjira venom may not kill, but it's unpredictable and victims can suffer from a vast range of undesirable side-effects vaguely similar to that of a snake bite. Swelling, redness, a weakened immune system and slowed reflexes are the most commonly seen in bitten humans.

- 'possession'; can take on human/animal host without consent or knowledge of host. Animals are usually preferred, for no better reason than they are less conspicuous.

- Insomnia; doesn't sleep. Can negatively affect sleeping patterns of humans after prolonged exposure (nightmares, restless sleep, less time sleeping etc).

- 'All-seeing eyes'; can 'see' true forms of supernatural beings and recognise them ( as in, 'that's a demon, that's an angel, that's a monster...') instinctively. As shackinjira are highly dependent on sight, this is their most acute sense - along with their sense of hearing - highly sensitive to light and movement. Though they seem to have no trouble seeing in places that are pitch black to a human's eyes, bright lights ( ie flashlights pointed in an eye, strong sunlight, etc) can be briefly blinding to them. As a result, they prefer dark/overcast locations.

- 'Substitute': Stabinae's true form - a shadowy, semi-corporal, roughly equinoid creature - heals very, very slowly, which puts her at a dangerous disadvantage in a fight. However, if she's in a meatsuit, then, although she feels the pain - to a vague extent - that body takes the damage for her.

SEND ME AN ANGEL;;

FACE CLAIM: Monica Bellucci
HEIGHT: 5 " 4
WEIGHT: Unknown
SKIN: Caucasian
HAIR: Black, staright, down past shoulders
EYES:'Brown' (actually dark burgundy) and generally passable as normal human eyes. In her true form they're a bloody crimson, with slitted pupils like a feline.
BODY: Slim, lean, petite; no softness, no fat. Long legs, short torso.
ATTRIBUTES: None
CLOTHES: Jeans and blouses, trousers and shirts.
ACCESSORIES: A couple of clips in her hair ( also useful for picking locks ), a modest black-leather strapped watch, and that's usually it. Little makeup is used, either; her meatsuit's skin is clear and unblemished, so apart from the occasional use of mascara and lipstick, nothing is used on her face.

GENERAL APPEARANCE: Stabinae's personal style is practical, somewhat formal, and flattering enough to emphasis her meatsuit's natural beauty. She does not wear shoes that she couldn't run in, so high heels are out. Denim jackets, leather jackets, and fitted coats are often seen when it's cold or when she's going out. Black, red, blue, green and brown are preferred colors.
Her hair is usually kept down; in fact, when it comes to jewellery or accessories of any kind, Stabinae has virtually none. She only wears what is convenient or useful; pretty trinkets don't seem to impress her.

ON A SEA OF MOVING EMOTIONS;;

GENERAL PERSONALITY: Sharp, controlled, suspicious. Three words that describe Stabinae perfectly. Living on her own in a world where everyone is a potential threat, and where one mistake can result in your worst nightmares becoming reality does tend to put on the pressure. Stabinae is very much a 'do or die' kind of person; when she puts her mind to something, that's generally it. The problem is deciphering what it is, exactly, that's she's set her mind to. It's a dog eat dog world out there, after all. Stabinae can be ominously deceptive if she's put in a situation that requires deception.
In general, Stabinae may have integrated herself amongst people over the years and picked up many human characteristics, but she is still a creature from the Pit and that makes her very, very dangerous.
She's stubborn, paranoid, and usually neutral, preferring not to involve herself in political affairs, but when she's pushed into the thick of things it's painfully clear just how ruthless this shackinjira can be. Naturally apathetic and accustomed to using violence as a means of getting what she wants, Stabinae is as much of a potential threat to her supposed allies as she is to her enemies. She is not a loyal being by any means, nor is she at all forgiving; if you turn against her once, then you may as well have turned against her forever. Earning her trust is an extremely difficult feat.
Regardless of how good your relations were beforehand, if you're caught deceiving her or manipulating her - her biggest pet peeve - Stabinae has no qualms about ending the alliance.
Interestingly enough, though she is the most paranoid, Stabinae is also the least homicidal of the Five. Her reluctance to take action in any way that might expose her to the supernatural world is so strong that she is surprisingly tolerant when it comes to behaviours that would normally be seen as provoking. Stabinae does not kill without a good reason, usually self-defense; or what she perceives to be self-defence. This unusual amount of self-control, along with her lack of bloodlust, has been crucial in keeping up her current mask amongst people.
Overall, Stabinae has the potential to turn either way. Under certain circumstances, her future could take two very different roads, and she could end up doing a good bit of damage if she involves herself in the coming war...

LIKES:

• Books; yes, she's literate. Stabinae enjoys reading old classics, historic texts, Greek and Roman scripture... She's modernized a bit, too, and overall Stabinae is very well-educated when it comes to literature.
  
• Quiet; as her sense of hearing is extremely good, casual background noise irritates her. Talking, humming, fidgeting, music... She can hear you, and she will get you.
  
• Black coffee; just something she appears to be fond of.
  
• Solitude; it's all she's ever known, and it gives her space to think.
  
• Blending in; no notice means no demons, no hunters, no trouble.
  
• Observing others; she learns best this way.
  
• People; yes, a real shocker. Stabinae isn't exactly keen on strangers and certainly has nor issues with harming them, but overall she has nothing against humanity. Specific persons, yes, but not the population as a whole. She has been able to hide amongst them for years; the humans she does know are flawed and occasionally irritating with their ignorance and melodrama, yet they are friendly and intriguing and as Emily Crowe, she even enjoys the company sometimes.
  

DISLIKES:

• Idiots; because, well... They're idiots.
  
• Confectionary; apparently, she doesn't have a sweet tooth. At all.
  
• Alcohol; tastes vile, smells vile, screws up your head. What's the point?
  
• Flirting; she's old, powerful and sexually extinct. It's completely lost on her.
  
• Intimacy; Stabinae has a bubble of personal space. Breach that space, and you'll lose your head.
  
• Being manipulated; Stabinae is not here for anyone's entertainment. You really don't want to try and mess with her.
  
• Other supernatural beings; they tend to blow her cover.
  

STRENGTHS:

• Evasion: verbally and physically. Being difficult is her forte.
  
• Sarcasm: Stabinae may not seem to have much of a sense of humor, but this is one aspect of it that seems to come naturally to her. Not that that's really a good thing.
  
• Intuitive: it's scary how little you need to give for her to know exactly what's going on.
  
• Resilient; if she can't go over, she'll go under. If she's trapped in a corner, she'll chew her way through the wall.
  
• Perceptive; physically and metaphorically, she's got eyes like a hawk.
  
• Aware; not sleeping has its perks. Good luck sneaking up on her.
  
• Suspicious; You're all up to something, and she knows it.
  
• Knowledgable; self-educated. Well-educated.
  
• Ruthless; a demonic Pitbull at heart. If it's in the way, Stabinae will have no qualms about getting rid of it.
  
• Shameless; Another typical demonic trait. Stabinae regrets nothing.
  
• Supernatural; She's dangerous in the way that certain non-supernatural creatures are to people - that is, only dangerous when provoked. Overall, her kind are comparable to rattlesnakes; don't poke them with a stick and you won't get bitten.
  

WEAKNESSES:

• Apathetic/detached; not a good characteristic when you're living in a human environment. People like people who care.
  
• Reluctant to act; Stabinae is strictly neutral and wants no part in the coming storm, so it's likely that by the time she chooses a side, it'll be too late.
  
• Paranoid; yes, this can be handy at times. But not all the time
  
• Trust issues; to be vaguely human, you need friends. To be convincingly human, you need to trust those friends.
  
• Feral; the 'fight or flight' reflex is driven deep...
  
• Immoral; there's what you think is right, and then there's what you know isn't stupid.
  
• Highly strung; She won't trust you, but she certainly will rise to a challenge... Though it might not be in the way you expect.
  
• Hunters; Yup, being supernatural has its problems. Stabinae constantly has to watch out and compensate for the following...
  ~'The acknowledgement reflex' (twitches/flinches, looks over, eyes flash red, shadow wavers or shifts into true-form silhouette, etc, upon hearing her 'title', which is Stabinae, spoken aloud. She can be temporarily prevented from 'fading out' from an area if her title is called, as she has to respond to it; one of the methods used against her fallen 'sibling', Moriscula.)
  ~ Holy water (burns)
  ~ Rock salt (stings; salt lines also repels as she cannot cross them )
  ~ Holy fire
  ~ Iron (similar effects to salt, as it's a pure substance)
  ~ Rune Knife (?)
  ~ Colt Revolver (?)
  ~ Angels ( avoided if possible, virtually never engaged in combat; another effect of their survival instinct? )
  ~ Spoken prayer (Our Father, Hail Mary etc. Painful, can even drive them away from the area. Prayers in latin are strongest.)
  ~ Another shackinjira ( shackinjira prefer to keep out of each other's way for a reason; though there have been temporary truces, overall they don't seem to get along... )
  ~ Bright lights (due to those sensitive eyes of theirs...)
  ~ Latin exorcism ritual (?)
  ~ 'Christo' (God's name spoken aloud, in its latin form; makes them flinch)
  
  
  

FEARS:

• Fire: have you ever felt the searing heat of flames scorching flesh? Have you ever experienced the agony of being set ablaze? Stabinae has, and she never wants to experience it again...
  
• Forgetting herself; that's what Hell is. That's what she escaped.
  
• Being trapped; the universal nightmare for her kind, which are free-roaming spirits by nature. When you're trapped, you don't have free will. You're helpless. You can't get away.
  
• A purposeless existence; because like forgetting yourself, you're just an empty shell with no reason to be alive.
  
• Death; she doesn't know what it means, but it's likely to mean Hell, which she knows painfully well. So Stabinae fears dying. She fears the unknown as well as the known.
  
• Lucifer: the Prince of Darkness, the Morning Star, the supposed 'Father' of her kind. She's never seen him, yet instinctively she fears him above all else.
  

DREAMS:

• To stay undetected.
  
• To stay alive.
  
• To stay out of Hell.
  

BIGGEST SECRET:
- Her identity. Who could guess that Emily Crowe, owner of a bookstore specialising in antiques, could be one of the Rogue five? No one so far, and she wants to keep it that way.

- The medallion of Choronzon. An ancient artefact; the one object that could accurately indicate the presence of a shackinjira whilst simultaniously indentifying it, due to the engraved five letters - the initials of each shackinjira's title - that glowed silver whenever that particular shackinjira was in the vicinity.
It had been Golgotha, one of her brethren, that had informed her of not only the medallion's existence, but the fact that it was somewhere in the United States. Their brief, detatched encounter had occurred around the time of Moriscula's demise, after the demon Choronzon's exorcism at the hands of an opportunistic hunter, and Stabinae had no qualms about taking the chance of dealing with the Rogue Five's greatest Achilles' Heel.
She was the one who resided in the right country. She had been closest. So it was her duty to find it... And to guard it. She's had it in her possession ever since.

I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL;;

HISTORY:
Despite her ancient status, there is very little known, recorded history on Stabinae the shackinjira. She was one of five demonic beasts - roughly equinoid in appearance, gaunt and shadowish - to escape from the Pit and vanish into the bustling, complex world of the living shortly ( as in, a few hundred years) after Lucifer fell. It is uncertain as to the exact motivations that compelled them to defect, but it was a wise decision in the long run; the 'Rogue Five' flourished, adapted and evolved on Earth, whilst their Hell-dwelling brethren dwindled and slowly were, as the natural order went, 're-forged' into just another murder weapon for demons to use at their leisure. Soon, though they were not to know until far later, Stabinae and the other four rogues were the only original shackinjiras left; though they, too, had gone through some changed of their own...

In recent years, there was a sharp increase in the demon population on Earth. This abrupt abundance of Lucifer's minions meant that demon-shackinjira encounters were inevitable; and when they occurred, they turned violent very fast. The shackinjira weren't at all welcoming when it came to sharing land; the demons were shocked to come across creatures that had been long-since forgotten and dismissed, and were unprepared to efficiently handle the particular strain of monster that they had become.
Demonic beings that could kill demons; as the rumor went, at least.
Encounters rapidly progressed to skirmishes, ambushes, seek-and-subdue hunts. The shackinjira became more paranoid and hostile, harder and harder to find. Overall, many humans were used and slaughtered in the cross-fire; eventually hunters realised something was up and became involved in the mix. Moriscula was killed, caught out-of-host; her killer and biggest threat to the remaining members of the Five at the time, however, was caught in a Devil's Trap and exorcised by opportunistic hunters. Ignorant of the demon's identity, they died several skirmishes later. Busy with the cremation ceremony and their own hunts, the hunters' friends didn't notice that a certain medallion was missing from the pile of personal things left over...
When angels started showing up on Earth, the shackinjira simultaniously vanished off the radar, Stabinae included. Years passed, things slowly settled down. Demons and hunters remained on the prowl.

Now, as I said, not much is known about Stabinae the shackinjira. But there's a Hell of a lot more known about Emily Crowe.
She was a country girl called Elena Richards. She was homeschooled, the precious jewel in her mother's life. Her father turned out to have Huntingtons, and it was feared that she had inherited the disease. Both parents ended up dying when she was twenty-one; car crash, the reports said, though a local hunter hot on the trail of a demon believed different. His body was found in a warehouse several hundred miles from town a few months later, mutilated almost beyond recognition along with three others, so the case was never solved. Elena juggled college, work and her tentative love life for eight more years before a minor case of the flu changed her life forever. Having been pursuaded to leave work early, Elena sharply braked and swerved to avoid what she perceived to be a horse standing in the middle of the road. The last thing she would ever remember would be getting out of the car, talking soothing nonsense, then freezing upon seeing that the horse's eyes were a fierce, bloody crimson.
Those eyes, and the shifting, shimmering darkness stretching out towards her would be the last thing Elena ever saw before being forced into abrupt, yet peaceful oblivion.
Her car would be found two hours later, skid marks on the road, engine still running. The body of a missing racehorse, with several stab and gunshot wounds would be found along with it, lying in the middle of the road in an impossibly small pool of blood. Hunters may have been interested to read that two stablehands from a neighbouring farm had gotten into a particularly murderous brawl a mere few hours before the equine's disappearance.
Stabinae would not give any more leads to follow, though. Her act was flawlessly premeditated; she moved to the opposite side of the country, opened a book store, opened a bank account, and even bought herself accommodation. She became Emily Crowe.
Six difficult years later, in the midst of an Apocolyptic war, she is still Emily Crowe.
But how long will her facade be able to last?

THERE'S A BAD MOON RISING;;

OTHER: COMMON KNOWLEDGE:
- The 'Rogue Five'; Stabinae, Moriscula, Nidenski, Golgotha, Fengari. All are the same species of demonic creature, all escaped from the Pit via a briefly opened Devil's Gate hundreds of years ago. They are reclusive and paranoid and have dangerous supernatural abilities ( see OTHER )
- ' Emily Crowe '; an attractive, if slightly antisocial owner of a bookstore in Raven Creek, Utah. Knows about the supernatural world, seems neutral. Hunters looking to research up on a potential hunt have found significantly helpful information in her large stock of old texts, as have other beings...
- Emily buys unwanted tomes and also has experience with antiquities. In short, she does business with virtually anyone as long as they don't bring trouble along with them or try to involve her in anything.

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE;;

RP SAMPLE: There. It was minute, a tiny flicker of startled surprise, the briefest flash of fear at the prospect of being caught out by such an unexpected and direct query.
“I inherited it.”

An untruth, and a slight deflection in order to casualise the situation instead of a direct 'yes or no' answer. So she was a thief, then, the shackinjira concluded, as she she slowly began to flick through the pages to check for damage.

Now, Stabinae was no saint herself, nor did she ever claim to have sunlight shining out of her anus, but she didn't tend to indulge in an act so common and petty as robbery.
The shackinjira only stole what was neccessary; some shapeshifters, on the other hand, stole things as part of a lifestyle.
Normally she would not be so bothered by the presence of one of the latter - after all, she was a demonic creature who was capable of and happily would tear them limb from limb if they annoyed her - but her current situation was far from normal.
“But honestly I’d rather just have the money. I mean, I’m not much of a book person, I prefer comics.”

She had a very, very valuable artefact to protect. One that could reliably allow someone to track down herself, or any of her Rogue brethren. She could not afford for it to have the slightest chance of being stolen and reintroduced into the world for anyone to use.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with books…”

Stabinae nodded 'absently', her lips twitching to convey amusement at the hasty addition.
"Comics, novels, mangas... It doesn't have to be a hardback with a fancy name to be a good form of literature."

She flicked past the page containing text on her kind, passing the brief, somewhat mediocre impression of their true form without batting an eyelid. The medallion was not safe - there was no such thing as 'safe' any more - but it was hidden. It would not be easily found, she assured herself.
“So can I trouble you for that exact figure? I don’t mind hanging about if ‘thorough examinations’ take a while.”

Her paranoia was just paranoia this time, not grim intuition.
"Of course."

Just because people are out to get you, doesn't mean you should treat everyone as your enemy.
"I'll just need some light; it should only take a few minutes."

Outside of your head, anyway.
She moved to the table and chairs, positioning the lamp so that the light hit the opened book directly. It was unneccessary, really - her eyes had worked just as well in the gloom, and they hadn't picked up any obvious damage when she'd first 'flicked through' - but a facade she'd have to carry out for normality's sake.
" Hm... Good condition overall; the cover's seen better days, but the print is unmarred and the pages aren't too dog-eared..."

She murmured as if to herself; a trait that she'd learnt was more socially tactful than simply staying stoic and silent. The latter tended to increase tension and awkwardness, which was not good for business or keeping up a sociable front.
“I dunno why my uncle left me this. I don’t wanna seem ungrateful but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind."

She heard, though she gave the illusion that she was more focused on the hardback before her eyes. Then, that word was slipped in.
" Good old Uncle Christo…”

Stabinae flinched slightly. Reflexively.

Regardless of the new life she'd carved out for herself, a demon was a demon; when you were carved into existence from the depths of the Pit, you couldn't simply walk away from the fact that you were a manifastation of all things unholy. You certainly couldn't get a pass for things such as salt, holy water, and the Lord's name spoken aloud deliberately.

Deliberately. That was no slip of the tongue on the shifter's behalf; she had been tested, and as a Hellborne creature she'd inevitably failed.
Stabinae did not feel offended, so much as rather vexed that her mask had been taken away in such close proximity to the ignorant humans she had built it with.
A vexed shackinjira was not something you wanted to be facing.

"Good old 'uncle', indeed, for so graciously giving you a book that had been locked in a safe for half a decade."
Might be a stretch, but that certainly explained the musty, stale smell lingering amongst the pages.
" Seems like neither you nor I are quite what we seem..."

She closed the book and rose to her full height - not particularly tall, at five foot three - and regarded the shapeshifter coolly. Her supernatural aura had 'darkened', from intimidating to downright dangerous, and her fierce burgundy eyes were narrowed in a tacit threat.

Keep your mouth shut, or I'll tear it off.

Then, she heard the door open. Another customer, a scent she recognised.

If she was the kind of being who indulged in such human habits, Stabinae would have rolled her eyes.
Ah, well. At least it was a distraction from her current impasse; and knowing the identity of this new customer, it was an added danger for the current nuisance that stood before her. Another reason - not that the shapeshifter should have needed one - to keep quiet and not draw attention to their little face-off.
" Hold on for just a moment; we can continue this 'dangerous scenario' later. There's someone else I must attend to."

With that, Stabinae backed up, and vanished amongst the shelves of books to dart to the front of the shop.
Her sense of smell had not deceived her; it was indeed the hunter who's life she'd happened to save on a brief stop for lunch during her... 'Business trip'. The shackinjira's lips tugged into a wry smile, and she raised an eyebrow as she approached the familiar stranger.
"Fancy seeing you again. What can I do for you?"


ALIAS: Foresight
OTHER ACCOUNTS: None
RP EXPERIENCE: Three years.

(C)2010 Made by Sam of Supernatural: Alter Destiny! Do not steal!

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