Character Name: Alicia Steele
Alternate Identities: Phoenix
Player Name: Chey
|Alicia is just 16, 5'10" tall and weights about 120 pounds. She has rich black hair cut to her lower back and startlingly blue eyes. On her stomach is a tattoo of a Phoenix, it's long tail running down her left leg. From her right wrist to her shoulder is a red flame tattoo. She prefers a 'punk' look, dog collars at throat and wrists, with a crop top exposing her belly and a ragged pair of jean stragetically woren to display the tail of the Phoenix on her thigh.|
God she hated New York, especially in the winter. Ice and snow, two million degrees below zero ... what did that expect? She was freakin' cold! And it had only been a little fire. Sorry about the bed but it was their own fault for not using the damn heat! Well, she had heat now, at least more then the foster house had been willing to provide. Trouble was, it was a jail cell and she wasn't alone. Three women dressed like what they were, whores, eyed her.
She wasn't sure if it was the tattoos, or the crispy crop top and burned jeans. Probably both. Didn't matter. They'd offered her a phone call, but who the hell was she going to call? The foster system sure as hell wasn't going to help. It was her sixth ... or seventh house this year? At least she didn't have to burn anything to get warm.
"Alicia Steele," the matron called as she came into the cell block.
The girl stood and stepped over to the cell door.
The matron gave her a dirty look. "You're out of here."
That was NOT what she'd expected. Public defender must be real good. The matron unlocked the door and Alicia stepped out. The woman grabbed her upper arm and tried to apply some pressure.
“Ain’t gonna work,” Alicia said with a half smile.
The matron gave her a push toward the door and a minute later she found herself in an interrogation room with some joker in leather.
“Hello, Alicia,” he said, giving her the once-over.
She returned the favor and liked what she saw. Sure, he was too old for her by maybe ten years but he was seriously hot. The whole leather and unshaven look was working for him.
“I’m your new foster father,” he replied.
“Right, they’re gonna let some guy only ten years older then me take me home,” she bristled. “If you’re planning on having yourself a little play toy, I got news for you.”
Her power pulse and flooded the room with a flash of light as intense as a magnesium flare.
“Nice,” he said, unphased. “How about I introduce myself? I am Ghost Archer.”
The man smiled. “More like no shit. Spock, we’re ready.”
Before she could react, she found herself standing beside a large koa pond facing a white building that looked like it was mostly made of windows.
“Welcome to the Lothlorien Academy.”
|Alicia's powers have only recently manifest themselves. She is able to produce a small number of effects including an explosive ball of fire and a more concentrated form. This second is perfectly able to kill but as yet she hasn't been forced into the realization. She uses a thick cloud of smoke to cover her movements in order to evade pursuit as well as being able to generate an extremely brilliant burst to blind a foe. She has discovered she is able to fly but she isn't very comfortable with the idea. Also she hasn't discovered just how resistant she is do damage, but she does know that fire doesn't seem to be able to hurt her. If she is able, she will take refuge in the midst of any flame to deter direct attack. Of course, if a flame is not available, she is not above providing one.|
|She is somber, quiet, anti-social, and likes to be alone.|
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