Post by zzz - Memphis Gracie Fox on Dec 23, 2011 11:00:25 GMT -5
Memphis Gracie Fox
---- THE BASICS
Character's Full Name: Memphis Grace Fox
Nicknames and Aliases: Mem, Gracie, Fox, Foxy...and her stage name was Blue Velvet
Age: 26 -- She's a Scorpio
Species: Human / full time Death Dealer or Hunter...whatever you want to call it.
Played By: Megan Fox
Appearance: Mem is tall, slender, very curvy and voluptuous. Some people call Memphis beautiful, with eyes a natural sea blue-green color and hair that's like chocolate silk. Her looks are her best asset in the business. Who would suspect -her- of being a huntress?
Style: Memphis' 'style' is somewhat chameleon. No matter what she wears, it always seems to look 'chic'. She loves to be extreme, and most often chooses her attire for 'shock value'. One day you might find her in an exaggerated school girl uniform, the next in a sexy dominatrix nurse uniform. Hell, sometimes she might go out of the house dressed in nothing but a trench coat, her underwear and fishnets with strappy 5" stiletto heels. When she's not "dressed up" in one of her many get-ups, you might just find her in jeans and a torn tee. She doesn't care about impressing you. She already knows she does.
Body Mods:
Oh yes, she has several of them. Rings climbing up both ears starting from the lobe and all the way up, a belly button ring, her left nipple is pierced, and one down 'below'. She also has several tattoos including an ankh between her shoulder blades, Chinese script on the inside of her right wrist, three stars starting just behind her left ear and going down to the lobe. She loves body modification and constantly adds to it.
Personality: Memphis is a pain in the royal arse. She’s stubborn and snappy and would much rather be hunting down the things that go bump in the night than talking to most of the more refined individuals she comes across. She lacks you're basic 'give-a-damn'. She doesn't care if you're impressed, or revolted by her behavior, just stay out of her way and you'll get along just peachy.
She hates any kind of structured environment, and authority, especially the law, and sometimes will even go out of her way to destroy it. She has no respect for the law, and actually makes a game of breaking it as much as she can just to get away with it.
Memphis verges on being a sociopath- lacking empathy for others and seeing nothing wrong with using others if her survival depends on it. She has no shame; doesn't care if you see her pee in public or change out of her clothes; honestly she could give a rat's ass what you think about her.
Other than her bad attitude, Fox can be quite funny-- that is if you get her, she's got quite a a wry sense of humor.
She doesn't usually let down her guard, so good luck making friends with her. Memphis doesn't trust anybody, especially men...so a date with her might end up with a slap across the face if you try to lay one on her.
Some oddities!
She talks to herself-- alot
She's a compulsive liar
Memphis is a kleptomaniac
She chain smokes
Powers and Strengths:
• Determination and Focus (to achieve the task at hand) In order to survive Memphis will do anything that is necessary and wont stop until it is done. This might be scaling a vine covered wall despite injury to her skin, in order to get over the barrier separating her and the home she means to break into.
• Honesty (leave it to her to tell it like it is) She has never been one to beat around the bush. If she thinks your are ugly and your breath stinks, she tell you, no bones about it, and not give a rats patootie if it means you wont like her for it.
• Bravery (she ain't skeered!) Memphis feels she hasn’t got anything to lose, so she is fearless for the most part. She won’t go into a ‘job’ with fear of being arrested, nor does she shy away from dark street corners. If someone happens to jump her, then so be it. They better kill her or their in for a fight!
• Resourcefulness (she is a female Mcgeyvor) Memphis has learned to use her smarts to get out of any situation
• Give her a wrench and she can fix anything
• Memphis is proficient in hand-to-hand fighting, as well as skilled at a number of weapons. She's even developed her own, unique weapons, but I'll let you find out about those through RP
-- Basically, She can kick your ass three ways from Sunday and knows how to use a gun as well as various other weapons. She's an expert thief and con woman,can give you some killer ink, and she has this way she moves her hips on stage that's definitely hypnotic.
Vulnerabilities and Weaknesses:
• Impulsiveness. Yeah. It gets her into lots of trouble.
• She may be a scrapper, but she's just a regular girl. No extraordinary bodily strength here.
• Crown Royal. Damn those cranCrowns and what they do to her the next morning
• tattoo parlors. She can't pass one without going in.
• Motorcycles. They make her swoon
• claustraphobia
---- HISTORY
Her birth wasn’t anything too spectacular. A dirty hotel room Lynn Mercy Fox had called a home for more than a few years; without the aid of a doctor or even a nurse midwife for that matter. The ex-hooker/stripper had always been self reliant; it wasn’t going to be different just because she had a little crumb snatcher. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant. The woman had told herself that the little ‘bump’ in her gut was from too many drive-by dinners from Taco Hell. When the cramps started she got in the bath like she always did, and lo’ and behold, ‘bump’ happened.
That’s what she called the little pink thing for a good few months. ‘Bump’.
It wasn’t anything too spectacular; pretty annoying if you asked her. It cried all the time and constantly needed to be changed and fed; but at least it made her tits bigger than they’d ever been, which brought in more tips when she danced. It was a shame when they finally shrank back down to normal size; but by then she’d picked out a name. Memphis Grace. Memphis after the hometown of her favorite singer; Elvis Presley, Grace because she hoped the little girl would end up a dancer, like she was, but maybe a ballerina.
Memphis came with her to work, and the other women oohed and ahhed over her. She was a community baby, and they all helped out a little when Lynn worked double shifts.
The child was bright and happy. She loved the costumes and the different people that lavished attention on her. Memphis loved the music; but more than anything she loved to watch her mother dance.
Okay, so it wasn’t the healthiest upbringing for a child, but hey, at least she was cultured. There was an Albanian dancer, and one woman from Japan, and at least three that were from Mexico or Spain; she didn’t know, but their language was beautiful and foreign. She got to play dress-up; a lot. What little girl doesn’t love that?
Memphis was mostly homeschooled; if you wanted to call the strippers acting like teachers in the back room of Shakey Jane’s homeschooling. She seemed to mop up everything like a sponge; brilliant even in the way her mind worked to see beyond simplicity of their teachings.
By the time she was a preteen Lynn had moved up from the lower class strip joint to one of the big Casino Hotels and Memphis was finally enrolled in a real school.
She turned out to be the brightest in her class; with an almost photographic memory though she really didn’t get along well with her condemnatory classmates.
That was fine by her; she needed friends about as much as she needed a hole in the head.
The young girl was content to roam around the casino watching people win and lose money; getting drunk and getting it on, and she even gained a knack for picking the pockets of people who were too inebriated to know better. Memphis had developed quite the case of kleptomania; from clothes, to jewelry, to little knick-knacks she collected for her hotel room home.
She met a great deal of fascinating people; from tattoo artists that taught her how to ink, from business men that taught her how speak eloquently, to grease monkeys that taught her how to fix broken down and deserted cars. Memphis became quite the ‘Jack of all trades’
The life of a Vegas dancer’s daughter was exciting to say the least; but for one thing; the men that came along with such a lifestyle. Her mother loved men, and a lot of them. She never let them touch Memphis, but she did often put their wants in front of her daughters. Lynn had never changed; she was still a selfish bitch.
Too many times Memphis saw her mother ‘getting personal’ with these men, and even sometimes saw them hit her. This was something Memphis couldn’t stand but was helpless to do anything about; though she meant to remedy that soon enough.
The girl became obsessed with learning how to protect herself and her mother against that type of abuse. By the time she was 16 she had gotten herself a fake ID and a gun from the pawn shop and had taught herself to be an excellent marksman.
She danced for the money to go to any kind of martial art classes she could find; and became proficient in all kinds of fighting styles.
Unfortunately for all the self defense training, Memphis couldn’t protect her mother against the man that would murder life as she knew it.
Lynn had fallen in love with a mysterious wealthy man that promised an ex-hooker/ stripper the kind of life she’d always dreamed of. No more tired feet, no more long hours; he had the type of money that would allow her to never work another day in her life.
Of course she looked past the fact that the man was sickly pale as if he’d never seen the sun, and only came out in the dark hours of evening. Memphis, on the other hand, knew better. The enigmatic stranger was dangerous; a liar; and would one day be the death of her mother.
She didn’t know it would be so soon.
The man that promised Lynn the world ended up taking her life. He drained her dreams before he drained her blood; revealing that he would have never given his heart to such an unworthy mortal but she had been amusing to pass the time. Memphis interrupted the bloodsucker as Lynn released her final death rattle and enraged, she tossed one of the candles her mother always had lit around the room at his feet and watched him go up in flames along with her mother, and finally the room.
It has become her life’s mission to eradicate those vile creatures that prey on humans under the guise of mortal. She will never stop until she kills every single one of them, or dies trying.
---- ROLE PLAY SAMPLE
Memphis woke to a dripping on her forehead, and the rhythmic sound of pounding on the wall. As she became more alert, it was with a groan that she realized the steady drip wasn’t a dream but a leak from the apartment above hers and the cadenced thump on the wall wasn’t someone’s balled fist but a headboard; its rhythm growing in momentum a second before a loud, satisfied moan turned the pounding into blessed silence.
Stupid shithole motel.
There were roaches the size of mice and mice the size of cats occupying the pay-by-the hour room with her, but the cheap rent was all the female could afford on her nonexistent salary.
The huntress pulled the pillow out from underneath her dark head, covering her face to shield it from the trickle as much as to smother the unsatisfied scream that worked itself up from her throat.
She should live better than this. Hell, with all she did for the ungrateful people on this misguided planet, she should live like a fucking celebrity. Or at least a saint.
Unfortunately saving the world from evil didn’t pay very well. Actually it didn’t pay at all…
Except when she lifted a wallet stuffed with twenty bills from the demon she had just sent back to the Pit.
Memphis remembered she had enough money for a decent breakfast thanks to the soul-stealer that had borrowed the body of a prosperous human and it gave her enough motivation to remove the pillow from her face and throw her slim legs over the bed.
It took a minute or two of yawning and head-rubbing before she could actually get up, but once she did it was her regular routine. Coffee. Cigarette. Shower. Cigarette.
Memphis was out of smokes by the time she pulled on her tight jeans and ass-kicking boots and then the black leather jacket over her slender shoulders.
Making herself a to-go of hot java the hunter grabbed her bag of goodies, headed out and locked up, stopping for a pack of coffin nails and a breakfast burrito at the corner gas station before making her way downtown to the college.
Mem had done her research and tracked a nasty spirit down to the place of higher learning. Apparently this certain professor (who rumor had blackmailing students with failing grades in order to get his groove on) had died by some horribly violent circumstances thanks to some angry parents.
The raven-haired huntress hoped this case would be a quick one. Go down to a hidden basement room where the skeevy professor had been killed and then holed up, burn the bones, and then she’d be out of there in time for a lunch on ole black eyes.
Of course just like her salary, Memphis’ luck was nonexistent.
Sneaking around a hallway that she thought would lead her right to the stairs down to the basement; she was caught off guard by a slight woman with a grey bun and wide, beseeching blue eyes.
“There you are honey; we thought you’d never make it.” The petite woman said, dragging her towards a classroom. “There’s a substitute here today, but we can still go ahead with the anatomy session…”
“What?!” Memphis yanked her arm away from the female’s grasp and paused, her sapphire eyes pinched in confusion and her Cupid ’s bow lips pursing slightly.
“Don’t be modest honey.” The woman once again caught her wrist and dragged her into the classroom, where a bunch of students sat wide-eyed and staring at her. “…this isn’t the first time we’ve had a nude model. Where is your bathrobe?”
The lady didn’t wait for Memphis to freak out or even answer before ushering her behind a tri-fold screen and then disappearing out the door with a wave to the excited and murmuring students.
“The hell…” Mem cursed and stood there, arms crossed over her chest and temper bubbling just beneath the surface.
And she thought this was gonna’ be easy…
But if she didn’t do this, then it was likely she wouldn’t make it to the basement to crispy fry Casper.
With another string of curses that would make a sailor’s cheeks turn red the raven-haired woman stripped out of her jeans and top, reluctantly leaving her black jacket on the floor atop the pile.
Slowly…she made her way up onto the platform in the center of the room. She was surrounded by ten students, four of them male; all standing before a tall easel.
Letting out an audible snort of displeasure, Memphis fidgeted a few moments before striking a pose she hoped she could hold. It was the well-known Charlie’s Angel stance with her invisible gun held up in the air and her feet spread apart. She still had on her black ass-kicking boots.
---- THE PLAYER
Alias: Misery/Miz
RP Experience: Long time >^..^<
Contact: How about a PM or a poke in the crack box?
