Played by Wintyr
Nickname: "That weird chick", the parasite
Alias: Media Dorian
Birth Date: Long frickin' time ago (Back in the blizzard of 2943
BC, this being when we walked TWENTY MILES through the snow, uphill
both ways, just to get to school...) ; Media was "born" on November
Birthplace: Heaven; Media was "born" in St. Peter's Hospital, Rome.
Blood Type: AB
Hair: Gray, straight, and glossy; cut short to the nape of her
neck and without bangs. She has a widow's peak.
Body: Short and very, very skinny. Flat chest, chicken legs, tiny
arms and wrists, pencil neck... you get the picture.
Marks: A few little light scars on her upper arms (self-inflicted).
Clothing: Every article of Media's clothing is either black, white,
or gray (She prefers gray.). When black and white are worn, they
are worn in perfect balance (ex. White blouse, black pants). She
has a tendancy to dress rather Elegant Victorian Goth or Corportate
(period style clothing and pinstripe suits).
Most Prized Possession: None. She values no item more than any
Hobbies: Cutting her arms when bored, being cruel and inflicting
pain on others, while being Israfel's little punching bag.
Occupation: Israfel's Guide.
Food: She likes no food over another.
Fears: There is one thing she fears, and it is a full-blown, panic-attack,
have a heart attack and die phobia. She is deathly afraid...of having
to babysit children.
Goals: None to speak of, save doing her job with Isra-chan.
Positive Characteristics: Calm, practical. Always, ALWAYS level-headed
Negative Characteristics: She can be horribly frustrating in that
she never has any REAL opinions, never gets enthusiastic. She can
sound-and be- rather sarcastic and viewed as pessimisitic, rude,
and stuck up.
Power: Shadow, the ability to control, create, and meld into the
shadows. She is also an empath, a talent pretty much wasted on such
a girl as Media, and has some skill with two-way telepathy.
Personality: Asmodeus is neutral in every way. She doesn't care
how this stupid little ordeal ends up as long as she accomplishes
what she has to. She is sadomasochistic; she enjoys (when she finds
time), and loves, really, inflicting pain on herself and others.
She tends to dress in very elegant trousers and ruffled poet shirts,
which appears to be a mix of feminine and masculine, for she feels
she does not belong to either gender. She is also eerily calm and
composed, never showing emotion. She sometimes is quietly sarcastic,
which can be annoying or humorous, depending on how one looks at
History: Past - She was one of those perverse little wingless things,
and she feels rather bitter for being hated just because she was
(rather helplessly) created as she was. She followed her little
charge to Earth to guide her. She lived simply and pretty much unchanged,
not really caring about anything but surviving, getting to where
she needed to be, and doing what needed done. When she did have
a spare moment, she found a poor innocent, unsuspecting victim,
and screwed them up royally, both mentally and physically.
Present - She has been visited by her undead person and told to
go to Tokyo, and is slowly making her way there. Being "14," she
really doesn't need a job and depends on her youth (and unsuspecting
suckers) to win her daily bread.
The nice lady sitting across from her was starting to wear out
her usefulness to Media, and could be 'disposed of' shortly. As
the waitress brought out their hot chocolates, sitting them on the
little iron and glass table decorating the patio of an outdoor cafe,
Media became lost in her thoughts in how to quietly satisfy her
sadistic hunger and leave no evidence. She was brought back to reality
by the woman's voice, telling her the drink had arrived. She put
her hand to the cup and instantly felt it was far too hot. She took
a sip and so the lady did as well. Instantly, the woman spit it
out and coughed.
"Too hot! Oh, I burned my throat!"
Media stared at her blankly and sat her cup down.
"Oh, God. It hurts, the pain. Help, help."
After the woman called the waitress back over to order two glasses
of soothing ice water and the check, Media informed her gracious
host that she had to leave soon. After lunch was all said and paid
for, they left the cafe. The woman offered to walk her home for
safety reasons, and Media accepted.
"So, where do you live, sweetie?" asked the woman.
"In Hell," Media replied non-chalantly once they were a good distance
out of the small town.
The woman's eyebrows shot up and before she had a chance to scream,
Media turned on her and pinned her down with huge, heavy shadows.
She withdrew a swiss army knife from her pocket and smiled wickedly
at the woman.
~This is Hell...Life is Hell...Don't you know that?~
The woman opened her mouth to scream, but a shadow extended a wispy
hand and choked out her voice.
~Sweet, dear lady. Thank you for lunch. I appreciate you satisfying
my physical appetite...Now it's time to gratify my other.~
She bent down low over the woman's head and stared into her eyes
with her own emotionless gray ones, the maddening, hypnotizing eyes
of a god.
~Always remember...no matter where you are, you're in Hell.~
And without another thought, Media sliced the woman's forehead
open and walked away calmly, leaving her victim to "rest in peace."
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