Felicia Rahal

[Felicia Soler]

Felicia Diane Soler (née Rahal)

Full Name- Felicia Diane Soler (née Rahal, née Prisca Elisheva Csintilan)
Gender- Female
Age- 729 years old (explained in bio), appears to be 26.
Date of Birth- 3 January 1282
Sexual Orientation- Bisexual
Location- Las Vegas, Nevada
Celebrity Claim- Nina Dobrev
What should we call you?- BG, Cake (but only MR can call me this! D:<), Momo
Play anyone else?- Adele Couteau, Conall Saint Albans, Khalidah Rahal
Have You Read the Rules?- Something about lesbians or something. Fuck you, I made the rules.

Personality-

Felicia puts up a petulant, brusque and impulsive front specifically because she sees no real need for people to grow close to her considering that they’ll get old and die anyways, so what’s the point? She isn’t inherently trustworthy by a long shot. Acquaintances and friendship really mean very little to her, and she believes that honesty results in nothing but trouble. The only person towards whom she devotes even a modicum of moral scrupulousness is her mother. Her family will quite literally be there forever whereas she quickly falls out of touch with friends.

She is incredibly difficult to get to know and her impetuous nature gives her personality a rather volatile edge. But dig a bit deeper underneath the layers of capriciousness and arrogance and one might just be able to catch a glimpse of her true nature, which is one of guided perseverance and stubbornness. Although she had a tendency to jump from one interest to the next, whatever she happens to be focusing on at the time becomes the centre of her universe.

Her personality could also be described as both addictive and reckless. She is a terminal thrill seeker and if she knew she could get away with it, she’d spend her time skydiving full-time or jumping off cliffs in a wingsuit. She’s an experienced mountain climber and spelunker and enjoys discovering all of the new and interesting nooks and crannies that the Nevada desert has to offer. She’ll never shy away from a work bet to travel into a condemned old gold mine and see how far she can get before she reaches a caved in dead end. She was once dared to climb to the top of the spire atop the Stratosphere hotel and against several warnings to the contrary, she managed to finagle her way past security to do what she wanted. With a helmet-mounted static video camera, she began the slow ascent up to the top of the spire sans safety equipment, and much to the chagrin of the police eagerly waiting to arrest her below, she didn’t lose her footing and fall.

She fears failure in anything and will either see a task through to the bitter end (if she knows with certainty that it is something she is capable of completing) or she will refuse to do it at all.

Likes-

• Pushing other people’s buttons.
  
• Chinchillas.
  
• Those pretty multi-coloured drink umbrellas.
  
• Bing cherries. Actually, no, just cherries in general.
  
• Being a pain in the ass.
  
• Any type of thrill-seeking activity.
  
• George Carlin
  

Dislikes-

• Having other people in her space.
  
• Being bested at something.
  
• People who don’t tip their bartender, because those people are asshats.
  
• Yorkshire terriers.
  
• Peanut butter.
  
• Unnecessary or extra words like “pre-heated” ("There are only two possible states an oven can exist in: heated or unheated!") or “emergency situation” ("'Police have responded to an emergency situation.' No they haven’t. They’ve responded to an emergency. We know it’s a situation . . . ")
  

Strengths-

• She’s good at supporting other people and pushing them to their limits--for short periods of time until she gets bored with them.
  
• Determination. Once her mind is set on doing something, she’ll stop at nothing to see her goal through to the end.
  
• Ambitious. She sets her goals high (but attainable) and isn’t afraid to take risks.
  
• Quick wits.
  
• Being a wordsmith. She’s talked herself out of many binds before. A little compliment here and there goes a long way.
  

Weaknesses-

• Resistance to authority. She’s rather pigheaded when it comes to taking orders from people in positions of authority like the police and it has landed her in the drunk tank on more than one occasion.
  
• Has trouble dealing with people fail to meet her expectations and usually reacts by lashing out in anger.
  
• She’s capricious and lackadaisical if a bit narcissistic. She really doesn’t give a damn about anyone else other than number one.
  
• Her impulsiveness has gotten her into a few troublesome situations and she usually fails to plan things out, instead deciding that if something benefits her or makes her feel good in the moment, it’s probably the best course of action. Ergo, she always looks before she leaps and reaps her consequences later.
  
• Resentful. She really can’t stand when other people steal her limelight and is quick to resent the hell out of them.
  

Skills-

• Completely useless to anyone who lacks an adventurous backbone: skydiving, wingsuit gliding, cliff jumping--if there's a risk of death involved, she'll do it at the drop of a hat.
  
• If you give her the name of a drink, she probably knows how to mix it.
  
• Languages. Like her mother, she’s a total polyglot.
  
• Automobile mechanics. She likes to moonlight in a pair of coveralls and get grease in her hair from time to time and enjoys doing things with her hands (hurr hurr hurr).
  

Flaws-

• She gets bored rather easily. A bored Felicia is not a happy Felicia. She’ll take off someone’s limbs if it’ll cure her boredom temporarily. If something fails to hold her interest or if it's something she knows she won't succeed at, she'll drop it like a hotcake.
  
• Emotionally detached. What’s the point of attaching yourself to someone emotionally if they’re just going to get old and die anyways? Who the hell wants that burden?
  
• Her need to deliberately goad people until they snap completely really hasn’t earned her many friends (if any) over the past few centuries. She uses this as a defence mechanism to push people away. In other words, she can be rather difficult to be around, full stop.
  
• Dishonest. Don't share your secrets with her. They'll wind up in the tabloids. She'd sooner throw someone else under the bus than take the blame for something she might have done. She never forgets a slight, and she isn't someone who can be trusted with intimate secrets.
  

Abilities/Powers/Skills-

Biological Process Manipulation

Biological processes include any number of normal life processes generally catalysed by a combination of genetics, chemicals and hormones. These processes often result in some sort of transformation in the user. Felicia uses this ability to speed up her rate of healing by sending the appropriate chemical signals to the affected cells to spur them into regenerating. This ability also enables her to regrow severed limbs by allowing her to activate the proper genes in her stem cells. She is capable of regulating her metabolism, slowing it down when she is injured and organic energy is scarce, or speeding it up when the energy is abundant.

She can stop certain biological processes entirely (such as the flow of adrenaline in someone’s blood as a response to fear), or alternately she can stimulate reactions within the body: flooding her own body with a sudden surge of adrenaline that permits her to do feats an ordinary human would be incapable of, including moving faster than the human eye is able to perceive. Felicia can control all of her biological processes from hormone and pheromone production to nerve impulses and muscle contractions. Because of this, she has superb reflexes and is able to react to things quicker than a normal human being. Her ability acts in much the same way when used against another person, at least until physical contact is broken.

Even when divested of certain body parts (an arm, for example), she is able to control it by extension, having once shared a biological connection with its cells. She has a special relationship with all of the cells in her body and is capable of interacting with them on an individual level, repairing damage down to the thinnest crack in a cell wall.

To the extreme, she can hasten the various chemical processes within someone’s body to the point where their body will be unable to handle the sudden influx of foreign energy, and will look for a way to release it. This energy is usually discharged in the form of an explosion, turning the victim into a very real ticking timebomb.

Organic Symbiosis

Symbiosis implies a beneficial relationship between two organisms. Felicia can create a symbiotic feedback loop between herself and another person (or a group of individuals). With this ability, she generates a type of organic feedback loop, alternately feeding off of and redistributing the combined organic energies of each of the bodies contained within the loop.

She takes the organic energy (not physical matter) necessary from someone else or herself and repurposes it into what it needs to be (extra blood for someone bleeding profusely, accelerated cell growth for the regeneration of limbs or healing injuries, etc.) In short, organic symbiosis resembles a type of “organic nanotechnology” (minus the nanites) where Felicia instructs inert cells and other organic-based matter into becoming what is needed on an individual basis.

She is capable of using her own energy to nourish and sustain someone else which in turn allows them to produce the energy necessary for Felicia to support herself. This ability also has the side effect of putting both the user and the receiver into a meditational trance which facilitates the biological feedback of energies.

Limits-

Biological Process Manipulation

Though this ability is primarily a self-induced ability, it is capable of working on others as long as there is skin-on-skin contact. Once that contact is broken, the activity ceases. For example, if she were grabbing onto someone’s arm and deliberately increasing their blood pressure to deadly levels and she released her victim, their heart-rate and blood pressure would revert back to normal.

She cannot use this ability to shapeshift from one form to another. This is not biokinesis.

In order for the ability to work, she needs to have access to organic or biological energy. Organic energy could be something as simple as a protein-rich meal, or something absorbing energy from something as complex as the process of photosynthesis. Regrowing a limb with insufficient energy would be an impossible task and would most likely put her into a paralytic state. Although she can control her metabolic rate, she does so at her own expense. If she is severely injured and surrounded by a complete lack of energy, she will be unable to heal and will fall into a coma.

Organic Symbiosis

Organic symbiosis only works with living organic matter. She cannot draw energy from inorganic, non-carbon based matter like metal or plastic.

This ability cannot be used to bring someone back to life once they’ve died. Whomever she is trying to heal or otherwise influence with this ability needs to be alive. Not necessarily conscious, but breathing.

If both parties are low on energy (for example, they’re both bleeding to death), this ability will not work. Felicia needs to expend a bit of her energy to kickstart the entire process. If she is running low on energy reserves herself, she will be unable to catalyse the chemical events necessary to bring this ability to the fore.

As this ability is a purely conscious ability, Felicia needs to be able to concentrate to make it work. If she is unconscious, her ability will not work. Breaking the trance has detrimental side effects. If her trance is broken, both she and the person to whom she is connected will revert back to their prior states of injury.

Appearance-

She is rather Mediterranean in appearance, with olive-coloured skin and dark brown hair and eyes. Her roots are primarily Hungarian (on her father's side) and Semitic (on her mother's side). She is of average height and weight, standing at 5’3” and 115 pounds and probably wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. Appearance-wise, her style is casual: something as simple as a pair of jeans and a t-shirt will suit her well unless she’s working, in which case she’d probably sport something more revealing like a halter top or a bustier. She wears light makeup, preferring natural tones which accent her features rather than excessive embellishment.

Felicia can usually be found cruising around Las Vegas in her green hearse, which she has christened Harriet. Do not mock the hearse. She is rather frugal in nature and though impulsive, doesn’t believe in vainly throwing money everywhere. She bought her car at a junkyard and pieced it back together on her own time. Her hands are really the only part of her body that could probably stand to receive some TLC as she usually has oil and grit under her fingernails from taking apart the odd carburettor or two.

Faction- Villain
Birthplace- Búda, Hungary (modern day Búdapest)
Mother- Khalidah Rahal / actual age unknown / Founder of IntelliTouch Biometrics / Special, Quintessence/Resurrection
Father- Unknown.
Siblings- Several, though most of them died centuries ago and the ones who are still living she hasn’t had contact with for quite some time.
Spouse/Partner- None at the moment.
Children- None at the moment.

History-

Felicia came into the world from a rather strong line of specials whose own lives originated long before recorded history had even begun. She was born on the Third of January, 1282 in the city of Búda—now modern day Búdapest—to Khalidah Rahal (then under the assumed name of Eufrozina Csintilan). It was expected that she would grow to be cultured and educated during her childhood years, her mother taught her various styles of writing and mathematical theories to serve as a basis for the rest of her knowledge. Like her mother, she has years of knowledge tucked away in her brain and is fluent in several languages.

It was difficult in the Middle Ages for any woman to be taken seriously in the realm of education. Unless they were highly-classed and privileged (which Felicia was not, having been born into a lower class family), girls simply did not learn to read and write. They had no tutors and were expected to fit rather rigid roles at home and hearth. She fulfilled her duty like a good daughter and was set up in an arranged marriage as was traditional at the time when she was sixteen. She had her first child at the age of seventeen (a daughter whom she named Alina).

Life was fairly normal until she discovered that she had an ability. Back then such things were thought to be the work of the devil, and both she and her mother went into hiding for the next several centuries, moving roughly every decade or so and rarely setting up roots in any one place for too long. Together she and her mother avoided persecution during the years of the Crusades by staying under the radar. They travelled well into the lands ruled by the Ottoman Empire and crossed into Greece where she sold the wares of the wealthy stolen by her mother in marketplaces to anyone willing to make a fair trade. There were, however, some artefacts which she kept for herself . . .

During the period where most of the European countryside was stricken with the bubonic plague, Felicia and her mother made the move westward across Europe, eventually settling in the bustling city of Florence, Italy. It was there that she and Khalidah parted ways for several decades, as Felicia wanted to experience her own life rather than live in her mother’s shadow as she’d done for nearly the first four hundred years of her life. She enjoyed the country’s rich cultural history and studied philosophy and mathematics under the tutelage of Elena Lucrezia Cornaro Piscopia in Padua prior to Elena’s death in 1684.

The Renaissance brought with it a need for Felicia to learn new things and hone new skills. Having settled quite nicely into her little niche of life in Italy, she remained there for the next two centuries though she did need to remember to move to a new destination every decade or so, lest people started to wonder why she never aged. She grew quite interested in anatomy and physiology as well as the death rituals followed so religiously by the world’s ancient cultures.

Felicia reunited with her mother at the turn of the twentieth century and began attending school at the newly-founded Worsham College of Mortuary Science in Wheeling, Illinois to further whet her curiosity and expand upon her knowledge base, though she never had any real intentions of opening a funeral home or becoming a funeral director. It was just a means for her to learn something new and keep her brain occupied.

She lives primarily in Las Vegas where she works as a bartender at The CatHouse and attends classes part-time at UNLV to earn her Master of Science degree in kinesiology.

Anything else?- Nothing relevant.

Sample RP-

Her intention had been to knowingly provoke him. She was calculating how much it would take to throw him careening back into the abyss of madness and she was somewhat disappointed by how quickly he’d taken the bait. While she could have been the ‘good daughter’ and shown him an ounce of hospitality, she was a bit tetchy when it came to her space. Clearly they were going to have problems if he was so thin-skinned.

She refused to allow him a moment of respite, again picking up her caustic remarks from where she’d left off, threatening to lock him in the room, informing him of the proper way he should have disposed of his parents’ bodies and subsequently suggesting that she put him in a strait jacket for old time’s sake just so she could watch him suffer or explode with rage. Either emotion would have amused her.

Watching him teeter on the edge of reckless destruction brought a smile to her face. She’d been raring for a fight the instant she saw him sitting in the passenger’s seat of her hearse. Her mother could get away with driving it because they were family. Devon, having associated with her mother, probably could have gotten away with it as well if she’d been in a less capricious mood, but honestly? She really just flat out hated him for no reason. There were just some people whom she decided really just needed to be curbstomped to hell and back after laying eyes on them.

Devon, unfortunately, was one of them. But she didn’t want to curbstomp him. She was, however, rather curious how the inside of his cranium would feel with her fist through it, tickling his brain with her fingers. Bringing her hands together, she pressed the hell of her left hand against the knuckles of her right hand and cracked the air pockets out of the joints.

In the same movement that it took him to turn around and grasp her by the arm, she lunged at him and fastened her hand around his neck, pinching off a handful of the large veins under his jaw which supplied oxygen to his brain. “If I were you, I’d step the fuck down. Now.” It was pointless to yell at him when all of her fury was concentrated in her penetrating glare.

She felt a tingling in her arm where his hand was coiled around her bicep. He might have been wiry, but he did have a decent grip—and she could have broken his arm if she’d really wanted to. But seeing as how she’d probably be the one piecing him back together, she didn’t want to completely shred him to pieces.

A tangy, acrid scent like alkaline battery acid tickled her nostrils, and she could see fine wisps of smoke rising from where he’d grabbed her. Seconds later, the long plaid sleeve of her flannel pyjama top slid down her arm and fell to the ground, having had its textile bonds severed from its fellows.

He was positively livid. She couldn’t possibly understand why he was so irate. She’d only told him that he’d murdered his parents the wrong way and had threatened to lock him in the room and made what she thought was the solicitous suggestion that he be restrained in a strait jacket purely for his own comfort.

Ha.

Right. And the colour of the sky in her world was pink.

"Maybe you should put yourself in the straitjacket for a third of your life and see how you fucking feel!!" His grasp tightened around her arm, his fingers coiling over her flesh like small but powerful constrictors. If she tried to move her arm away, she could feel the skin and flesh sloughing off of it. The burning sensation was nearly unbearable until it ate through her nerves and deadened them entirely. She would have screamed in pain, but why bother? She was having fun. This was a real rush!

But she decided to feign a very convincing act for him and started struggling and screaming as if the pain had completely overwhelmed her. The fingers of her right hand were no longer responding to her brain’s commands to move, their neurological pathways having been severed beyond repair.

"Nobody is strapping me up in anything again! Not doctors, not you, not anyone! GOT IT?!"

Her eyes went wide in a decent approximation of pure terror and she wailed in agony as his hand sank into the muscle and sinew of her arm, cauterising everything in its path until his fingers closed around the bone. She shook her head when she realised that he wasn’t going to let go, looking absolutely petrified about what he was about to do. She didn’t hear her bone snap; the only thing she heard was the dull, dead weight of her arm as it hit the floor next to her foot and his fingers cinched in on themselves, grasping at air.

She stared at the dismembered appendage, horror-stricken, and clutched at the stump where her arm had once been attached. Well, wasn’t that just a clever little power! Felicia collapsed to the ground, completely beyond herself with anguish and curled up into a sobbing ball of flesh just long enough to let him believe that he’d gotten the upper hand. Picking up the completely disarticulated mass of bones, muscle and ligaments, she examined her dead hand closely with the eyes of someone determining whether or not they were in need of a manicure. Ugh, look at all of those hangnails and her chipped polish. She really was in dire need of a manicure. Ah well. Later.

Her sobbing came to an end as quickly as it had started and her lips peeled back into a leering grin. Focusing on the appendage in her hand, she instantly connected with its cells and gave it a life of its own. Of their own volition, the fingers at the end of her mutilated arm began to flex alternately into the shape of a fist and then spread out into clawlike protrusions. She managed to push herself back to her feet and kept her grip upon the errant appendage as it started slashing through the air at Devon, trying futilely to exact revenge from having been separated from its body.

Felicia smiled at him then, though the look was purely one of malicious intent.











"I guess my mother forgot to mention that you’re not the only special one here . . . ”







Her severed arm grew increasingly restless, reaching out into the space in front of her with its hand curved like a grappling hook. Judging her distance from him (she’d wound up across the room while she’d been stumbling about in ‘pain’), she shunted the energy in her body into her legs, closing the distance between them in a split second. The detached arm in her hand stretched out straight and pulled itself taut until it resembled a fleshy, fist-ended club which she proceeded to swing at him in rapid succession like a bat, catching him first upside the head, then in the throat to temporarily stun his respiratory system into silence.

The balled up fist at the end of her dead arm opened like a lotus flower, and she threw the dismembered body part at him like a javelin, aiming for his face. Her mortally damaged fingers spread out and latched onto his face like a horribly misshapen octopus. While he busied himself with making little progress in unclasping her fingernails from the skin of his face, she was busy examining the bloodied fingernails of the hand that was still quite happily attached to her body.

He didn’t need to know that she could technically regrow the entire limb. Or she could have reattached the one currently plastered to his face any old time she wanted. While her moribund hand was actively trying to tear off his face, the remainder of her arm (which now culminated in a shredded stump through which she could spot just a tiny bit of her humerus peeking out from between the wiry cords of muscles which made the arm a mobile extremity. Bending at the elbow, the upper portion of the lifeless limb mercilessly struck him in the chest.

She would have laughed if it weren’t all so pathetic.

“So . . . my turn now? Or are you gonna keep acting like a bitch?” Felicia circled him in the same way a hyena circled a dying gazelle. She was just waiting for him to say Fuck it, I give up so she could get her arm back. “By the way, a third of my life would be about two hundred fifty years. If I were you,” she came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, muttering in his ear, “I’d just give up now, ‘cause I’ve got all the time in the world to make your life hell on Earth, sweetcheeks.”