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Individual

Character's full name: Emily Marguerite Laveau
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Emy
Gender: Female
Age: Appears to be around 18
Date of Birth: February 25, 1824
Nationality/ Ethnicity: French and African decent
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: New Orleans, Louisiana

Appearance


Hair color and style: Long, brown, extremely wavy
Eyes: Grey. Slightly dulled over and pupils are dilated.
Height: 5’6
Build: Slim with curves
Visible mutation: Her skin is paler in the front of her body. Her blood has pooled in the back of her lower body, so her skin is purple and black in that area.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: She has stitches around her neck and on her upper arms at the top of her bicep.
Other features: Emily is an octoroon, which means she is 1/8th African descent. Her skin shows little to no hints of her African heritage.

Everyday clothing style: Emily dresses conservatively. She prefers long skirts and long sleeved clothes with boots. Her neck is usually covered with a scarf or jewelry.
Uniform: None yet
Sleepwear: White, long sleeved night gown with French, pink ruffles
Miscellaneous clothing: She continues to wear Victorian style brooches, jewelry, and accessories

Character

Personality: Emily is chatty and rather dainty. She’s as sweet as a magnolia in June. Emy is always looking to please. She never asks questions and follows requests to a T. This is who she is and was always trained to be. But events can change people. Though her exterior is still all of the above, inside she’s smart and calculating. Emily always weighs her options. She trusts very few people and can be quite spiteful to those she dislikes.

Hobbies/ Interests: Needlework, painting, reading, playing the piano and flute

Job or part time job and description: Works at a funeral home doing odd jobs.

Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Being harmed beyond repair. Being buried too deep or encased in a tomb.

Special talents: Can speak French and Creole fluently. She knows voodoo. Knowledge of human anatomy.

Morality

Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Emily considers herself to be a good, Christian woman. Even so, her feelings about humanity have wavered, and is unsure if they have to capability of social equality. But she doesn’t want to give up hope.

Mutations

Mutation description: Sustained existence. Her mutation manifested thirty minutes after she died. Body no longer needs to consume or inhale to function. Body no longer needs to work (heartbeat, digestive track, body temperature regulation, pain receptors, etc) to function.

Strengths: She does not need to eat, drink, breathe, or sleep. She does not get sick or age. She feels neither pain nor pleasure, but does feel pressure on her skin. Heat and cold do not bother her, but extremes such as fire and freezing still affect the body. Wounds of any severity are non-lethal and do not stop her, unless to the brain. Her blood and other fluids are frozen in place, so if she is cut, she does not bleed. If she is hit, she does not bruise. As long as her brain works, her body parts do too, even if they are no longer attached to her body.

Weaknesses: She cannot heal, so she’s permanently in stitches or glued together bones. Emily cannot get stronger because her muscles cannot improve. She cannot regenerate body parts. She has no sense of smell or taste. Damage to the brain will kill her. Her neck and upper arms are more prone to damage because of her previous injuries. She must constantly avoid flies, vultures, and other creatures attracted to dead bodies. She smells a little, but nothing a little perfume can’t cover up.

Fighting Style

Explanation: She has no formal fighting style or noticeable strength. She will utilize her surroundings if she cannot avoid confrontation.

Faction Allegiance
The X-men/ The Order/ The NYPD/ Unaffiliated. Currently unaffiliated

History Of Your Character:
Emily was born an octoroon slave outside the great city of New Orleans. Her father was a white sugar-baron who loved her and her slave mother dearly. Her mom worked inside the great plantation while Emily was to be raised as any white southern belle would be. Her father’s wife was quite content with this arrangement. She was having her own affair and was unable to bare any children. Emily was like her own daughter, whom she showered with gifts and toys.
But Emily always knew what she was. She was a slave. Every Sunday night she would go Congo Square and watch the voodoo ceremonies with her mother.

Her life turned upside down when she was sixteen, her father and his wife were killed in a carriage ride. The estate and everything on it became the property of her father’s brother. He had no desire to run a plantation and sold everything, including Emily’s mother. He kept young Emily and two other slaves and moved to the Garden District. He was a heavy drinker and a notorious gambler. He would beat Emily and seemed to take sadistic pleasure in the act. He wanted to take Emily as his mistress, but she refused. To try to win her love, he paid for her freedom. But even with this, she had no interest in her uncle.

One night, Emily’s uncle crept into her room and strangled her. He buried her body in a shallow grave in the garden. She woke up, believing she had had a nightmare and was shocked to find herself dirty in a flowerbed. It was still fairly early, so she went back to bed. Emily’s uncle was shocked to find her “still alive” and assumed he had not taken care of her properly. Unknown to everyone, including her, Emily was dead. It took the ceasing of her functions for her mutation to kick in.

Emily’s uncle was not pleased, and was quick to employ someone to make sure she didn’t come back. That night, the hired man followed Emily to a secluded street. He took care of her, but was shocked to see no blood. And was even more shocked when Emily spoke and her arms started reaching toward him. He ran away screaming, believing Emily to be a zombie.

As fate would have it, the local voodoo priestess, Mama Lafayette, heard the screams and stumbled upon the scene as the man turned to run. She was surprised, but not afraid, and took Emily back to her home. After stitching her back up and hearing the poor girl’s tale, the voodoo priestess promised to avenge the misdeeds. A few weeks later, two men are found in Congo Square, driven mad and incoherent. Emily stayed with the priestess for many years, and stayed with her daughter after passing, and her daughter’s daughter.

She was a spy during the civil war for the Union, living in the North and sending important information to the South. She stayed in the South and fought for racial equality. As the decades went by she feared that people could never fully coexist with people who were different from them. After the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., Emily lost all hope. She moved into the deepest, darkest places of the Bayou to separate herself from humanity. And there she stayed.
And there she would have stayed, if a young girl hadn’t made her way to her doorstep.

Roleplay
Where did you learn about this site?: Google
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Nope
Sample RP:
Inside her home, Emily sat down on her worn out arm chair. Everything in her home was beginning to look worn out, even though she kept everything tidy as best she could. No electricity or running water made keeping things clean a little difficult. She wondered if she should go into town to buy new furniture, then she remembered she hadn’t been to town in almost forty years. “I wonder what the world is like now,” she said to no one in particular. She envisioned flying cars, robot servants, and crazy fashions. “But…what if there is no world…” She knew nuclear weapons had not been deployed, as Richard Nixon had feared, but many things could have befallen mankind.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. This greatly started Emily because no one had ever knocked on her door before. She stood up and checked herself in the mirror. One must always look their best. She grabbed the axe she kept nearby and asked who it was. A young girl’s voice sounded from the other side, “Emily Laveau? You don’t know me, but my family knows you. I need to have a word with you.”

A girl of about eleven walked through the door and stood dumb-struck in the corner, staring at Emily. Emily began to busy herself, preparing a meal for her new guest, “What would you like to drink, darling? I have milk, cat-mint tea…”
“I-I’m perfectly fine Mi-Miss Laveau. I need to speak with you, abou-about my grandma. She-she’s real sick…” The girl’s words poured out of her mouth faster than angry hornets out of a hive. She explained her grandmother had a sickness. She didn’t know what it was but it had something to do with the brain. She was getting special treatments in New York City, but she was fading fast. She wanted to see Emily before she passed away.

Emily put cat-mint tea, bread rolls, and roasted chicken in front of the now seated girl. “I apologize for not being able to make you a proper meal. You just missed out on some delicious gumbo I made. Of course I’ll visit your grandmother, but first, you’ll have to tell me as much as you can about the last forty years. I don’t want to be ill-prepared.” She wondered if humanity had accepted people who were different from them, but she didn’t want to ask.

The younger girl tasted the food and scarfed down the rest, “This food is mighty fine, Miss Laveau, but-but I gotta ask you…Are you…are you really…a zombie?”
Emily sat down her china tea-cup on its matching saucer. I smirk played on her lips. “Now, I wouldn’t call myself that…”