HOME | DD

Description
Mild commission break--

ID #/ Card: #545344928

Name: Sully O...something... (Its O'Brien)
HP: 20
THREADCUTTER username: None (Doesn't know how to read / write

Gender: Female
Height: 5'2" / 157cm
Level of spiritual awareness: 5
►She sees threads in flashes of red and white, though with a quick little hand slices at it whether she was meant to cut it or not, unabashed to slice and dice despite their slightly unfocused shape.

Title: Professional Squatter -- Pathfinder / Tracker
  ►With a horrendous ability to track down specific 'prey', Sully without meaning to, becomes a menace to those trying to stay away and out of sight. She has an uncanny sense for direction, and yet couldn't tell you how to get to the nearest gas station if she tried... it all just kind of... works out.

Personality:
  ► Energetic
  ► Applauds the strong
  ► Silver linings believer (Though her silver is usually tinted with red)
  ► Finds humor in almost everything
► Extremely loyal

  ◄ Rabid / Aggressive
  ◄ Easily triggered
  ◄ One track minded
  ◄ Acts first, barely thinks later
◄ Possessive

Weapon of Death: Balisong (Butterfly Knife)
► In actuality, it used to be a potato peeler. But as she grew more and more violent and feral, it shifted to that of a deadly looking knife she'd seen once, wanting to deal more damage while hunting her 'prey'.

Cell phone: Xperia ZR (Stolen; original owner unknown)

Obituary: March 14th 1827-1846 Ireland

I don't remember.... too long-- dark night--? Hungry... I can't see. Cold-- snow on... my face? Ice packed hurting under my back... I cried... someone held me...? Or was it to throw my body on the pile of the others that were dying too...? I don't remember. Hazy, feeling nothing... Woke up, stood up-- my body felt okay... not cold, not hungry not dying...I looked-- all dead. I could see dead eyes staring up at me-- I screamed. No one heard. I ran. No one stopped me. No one could see me, hear me, feel me. I cried. I... I don't... remember.

Bio:
  Born last to a poor farming family in Northern Ireland, Sulgwenn (as was her name before) was quick to learn the trials and tribulations of not having proper resources while growing up. Malnourished and unfit for survival, little Sully and several of her siblings, much like many other children, left on the street to die, their parents unable to care. Every day they lived on near shreds of meals, day in and day out, wondering and watching, when and who would be the next of them to fall.
  Underdeveloped and lacking guidance, Sully, along with several others became street urchins, begging for change and food, though as the town was also poor, trying to keep itself afloat, it yielded very little results. Sully grew... unbalanced, both mentally and physically, deemed crazy after several rabid attacks and killings for food and got herself locked up in an asylum for both her own, and the town's own safety. There she survived on a diet of potatoes; the main source of food in Ireland since they were easy to grow and full of carbs, proteins, fiber and other healthy elements, causing her later to become one of the famine's victims when it began in the 1840's. It was a dark time for most folk that depended on the spud to survive; the crops going bad season after season resulting in a loss of that singular and economic vegetable, what is now known as the Potato famine in the history books of Ireland.
  Waking up again had been disorienting; a field of horrid-smelling flowers and a too-bright-to-look-at lady. She assumed she'd made it to the afterlife, but was soon slightly disappointed that she was to continue living in such a garbage world where she'd be unseen and unheard... just like she was in life. Despite her mental illness being 'cured' upon dying, she reverted to her schizophrenic and rabid tendencies after she was recruited as an apprentice; her paranoia and aggressiveness getting the best of her when things didn't quite line up the way she liked them.
  Arriving and settling in at HQ, she never managed to fit within the confines of being told what to do. At first, killing made her lose her touch with reality-- having the power to do so and not be punished for it... but under certain rules. Why have the power to kill and not use it as you pleased? Her team didn't seem to care for her violent approach to cutting threads, and she didn't seem to care about her team not caring for her violent approach either.

Not much is known as to how she became a hunter besides the missing team and its 'lone survivor' going missing... but if you ask, she may or may not elaborate. Should you need her however, try to follow the trail of broken strings she often leaves in her wake.

Extra:
  ► Don't make sudden moves if you see her.
      ► If you do see her and she doesn't see you, run.
  ► She tosses and flips her knife a lot, so usually you can hear when she's close by.
    ► Also uses the clicks of the knife to time herself for singing
  ► Isn't much for compassion, but on occasion she might cut you an apple or two if she's in the mood for it.
  ► Is always eating something. A subconscious thing due to starving to death, she has the innate need to remain fed to avoid going hungry again.
  ► Likes hunters more than apprentices, though even hunters aren't safe from her attempted murders.
  ► Lives like a street rat and tends to 'squat' on properties.
  ► Speaks in Gaelige when she's too excited.
    ► Her being excited isn't a good thing, mind you.
► Always carries red crayons, pens, markers, and on occasion red spray paint in her bag
  ► Favorite color is red, but she'll wear whatever she finds (or steals)
►Has slight abandonment / achnowledgement issues, but you'd never know.
► Has developed her own kind of feral growl which only crops up when she's close to the point of no takebacks.
► Has a thing for teeth.
► Hates flowers.

Contact: Skype (Ask) | Google Docs

Team/Roommates: N/A

Referred by: ---
Stats: 16
  STR: 2
    ► Getting to 'break' her toys is an enormous drive for her, and though she lacks the strength to simply choke them out of consciousness, she's held herself to the goal of destroying any and all who oppose her; getting her way, or the metaphorical highway.
  DEX: 6
► Quick and flexible, she hits with speed, using momentum as an ally to overcome her opponents that may or may not overtake her in strength, speedily dodging and countering with quick knife attacks.
  CON: 5
  ► Her lust for destruction wasn't for nothing, training and working out to maintain a solid constitution in order to fight harder for longer. Its not who's stronger-- its who makes it to the end before collapsing.
  INT: 0
    ► She has very little need for thought. She's a killing machine, and likes to be considered as a weapon and not a person.
WIS: 1
    ► Despite her lack of intelligence, she's at least wise enough to know when to withdraw if she's up against a strong foe. It doesn't however, stop her from trying anyway, lacking the immediate thought process, more often than not reacting before thinking.
  CHA: 2
    ► She thinks she's funny. Though her humor is twisted, it can sometimes become her 'cutie feature' if you look at it at a funny angle. She has the ability to be charming, but she rather not try too hard if a knife to the head can be more 'persuasive' than words in the first place.

Description
Mild commission break--

ID #/ Card: #545344928

Name: Sully O...something... (Its O'Brien)
HP: 20
THREADCUTTER username: None (Doesn't know how to read / write

Gender: Female
Height: 5'2" / 157cm
Level of spiritual awareness: 5
►She sees threads in flashes of red and white, though with a quick little hand slices at it whether she was meant to cut it or not, unabashed to slice and dice despite their slightly unfocused shape.

Title: Professional Squatter -- Pathfinder / Tracker
  ►With a horrendous ability to track down specific 'prey', Sully without meaning to, becomes a menace to those trying to stay away and out of sight. She has an uncanny sense for direction, and yet couldn't tell you how to get to the nearest gas station if she tried... it all just kind of... works out.

Personality:
  ► Energetic
  ► Applauds the strong
  ► Silver linings believer (Though her silver is usually tinted with red)
  ► Finds humor in almost everything
► Extremely loyal

  ◄ Rabid / Aggressive
  ◄ Easily triggered
  ◄ One track minded
  ◄ Acts first, barely thinks later
◄ Possessive

Weapon of Death: Balisong (Butterfly Knife)
► In actuality, it used to be a potato peeler. But as she grew more and more violent and feral, it shifted to that of a deadly looking knife she'd seen once, wanting to deal more damage while hunting her 'prey'.

Cell phone: Xperia ZR (Stolen; original owner unknown)

Obituary: March 14th 1827-1846 Ireland

I don't remember.... too long-- dark night--? Hungry... I can't see. Cold-- snow on... my face? Ice packed hurting under my back... I cried... someone held me...? Or was it to throw my body on the pile of the others that were dying too...? I don't remember. Hazy, feeling nothing... Woke up, stood up-- my body felt okay... not cold, not hungry not dying...I looked-- all dead. I could see dead eyes staring up at me-- I screamed. No one heard. I ran. No one stopped me. No one could see me, hear me, feel me. I cried. I... I don't... remember.

Bio:
  Born last to a poor farming family in Northern Ireland, Sulgwenn (as was her name before) was quick to learn the trials and tribulations of not having proper resources while growing up. Malnourished and unfit for survival, little Sully and several of her siblings, much like many other children, left on the street to die, their parents unable to care. Every day they lived on near shreds of meals, day in and day out, wondering and watching, when and who would be the next of them to fall.
  Underdeveloped and lacking guidance, Sully, along with several others became street urchins, begging for change and food, though as the town was also poor, trying to keep itself afloat, it yielded very little results. Sully grew... unbalanced, both mentally and physically, deemed crazy after several rabid attacks and killings for food and got herself locked up in an asylum for both her own, and the town's own safety. There she survived on a diet of potatoes; the main source of food in Ireland since they were easy to grow and full of carbs, proteins, fiber and other healthy elements, causing her later to become one of the famine's victims when it began in the 1840's. It was a dark time for most folk that depended on the spud to survive; the crops going bad season after season resulting in a loss of that singular and economic vegetable, what is now known as the Potato famine in the history books of Ireland.
  Waking up again had been disorienting; a field of horrid-smelling flowers and a too-bright-to-look-at lady. She assumed she'd made it to the afterlife, but was soon slightly disappointed that she was to continue living in such a garbage world where she'd be unseen and unheard... just like she was in life. Despite her mental illness being 'cured' upon dying, she reverted to her schizophrenic and rabid tendencies after she was recruited as an apprentice; her paranoia and aggressiveness getting the best of her when things didn't quite line up the way she liked them.
  Arriving and settling in at HQ, she never managed to fit within the confines of being told what to do. At first, killing made her lose her touch with reality-- having the power to do so and not be punished for it... but under certain rules. Why have the power to kill and not use it as you pleased? Her team didn't seem to care for her violent approach to cutting threads, and she didn't seem to care about her team not caring for her violent approach either.

Not much is known as to how she became a hunter besides the missing team and its 'lone survivor' going missing... but if you ask, she may or may not elaborate. Should you need her however, try to follow the trail of broken strings she often leaves in her wake.

Extra:
  ► Don't make sudden moves if you see her.
      ► If you do see her and she doesn't see you, run.
  ► She tosses and flips her knife a lot, so usually you can hear when she's close by.
    ► Also uses the clicks of the knife to time herself for singing
  ► Isn't much for compassion, but on occasion she might cut you an apple or two if she's in the mood for it.
  ► Is always eating something. A subconscious thing due to starving to death, she has the innate need to remain fed to avoid going hungry again.
  ► Likes hunters more than apprentices, though even hunters aren't safe from her attempted murders.
  ► Lives like a street rat and tends to 'squat' on properties.
  ► Speaks in Gaelige when she's too excited.
    ► Her being excited isn't a good thing, mind you.
► Always carries red crayons, pens, markers, and on occasion red spray paint in her bag
  ► Favorite color is red, but she'll wear whatever she finds (or steals)
►Has slight abandonment / achnowledgement issues, but you'd never know.
► Has developed her own kind of feral growl which only crops up when she's close to the point of no takebacks.
► Has a thing for teeth.
► Hates flowers.

Contact: Skype (Ask) | Google Docs

Team/Roommates: N/A

Referred by: ---
Stats: 16
  STR: 2
    ► Getting to 'break' her toys is an enormous drive for her, and though she lacks the strength to simply choke them out of consciousness, she's held herself to the goal of destroying any and all who oppose her; getting her way, or the metaphorical highway.
  DEX: 6
► Quick and flexible, she hits with speed, using momentum as an ally to overcome her opponents that may or may not overtake her in strength, speedily dodging and countering with quick knife attacks.
  CON: 5
  ► Her lust for destruction wasn't for nothing, training and working out to maintain a solid constitution in order to fight harder for longer. Its not who's stronger-- its who makes it to the end before collapsing.
  INT: 0
    ► She has very little need for thought. She's a killing machine, and likes to be considered as a weapon and not a person.
WIS: 1
    ► Despite her lack of intelligence, she's at least wise enough to know when to withdraw if she's up against a strong foe. It doesn't however, stop her from trying anyway, lacking the immediate thought process, more often than not reacting before thinking.
  CHA: 2
    ► She thinks she's funny. Though her humor is twisted, it can sometimes become her 'cutie feature' if you look at it at a funny angle. She has the ability to be charming, but she rather not try too hard if a knife to the head can be more 'persuasive' than words in the first place.