Bloody Mary

Real Name:Valeria Moore
Villain Name:Bloody Mary
Title:Queen of the Ring, The Broker
Alignment:Lawful Evil
Age:30
Gender:Female
Race:Meta-Human
Hair:Black
Eyes:Golden pupil, black iris
Height:5’10
Weight:150LBS
Blood type: O


Valeria Moore’s wars on the harsh streets of Acapulco have left her with a taut figure obsessively kept up due to her own paranoia and experiences. She has seen too many of her peers killed due to not being able to run or fight as the situation called for it. Her body possesses numerous scars from bullet and knife wounds.

Over the years she has learned that dressing the same way, or keeping a flashy profile, is a very quick way to catch a bullet. As such she often changes her clothes and rarely keeps an ‘image’. She is prone to wearing ponchos, great coats and is rarely without a hood and a pair of sunglasses. Experience and research has left her with some talent in reflecting the cultures of those she is working with. This does not extend to disguises but more cultural mannerisms and some understanding of what is considered normal or acceptable attire.

The only outside indication of her meta-human status are her golden pupils. She is rarely seen without a pair of wraparound shades, even in the evening. In situations where showing her eyes is unavoidable she wears colored contacts of a more natural and fitting eye color. Her power does not manifest without her attempting to focus it or slipping into unchecked anger.




A lifetime of violence and money has led Valeria down a path of suspicious observation and violent reprisal. She values her personal freedom and perceived position highly and threats to either tend to be treated the same way most people respond in life and death situations. She perceives herself as a business woman first and foremost and is more easily approached through the concept of bargaining and agreement than she is through threats, intimidation, or attempting to appeal to some moral or ethical standard.

It is very difficult to get within her circle of trust, but arriving there assures you the kind of loyalty usually reserved for the family unit. Lies and betrayal are returned with harsh and sometimes public violence; making an example of such people is high on her list of priorities and she expects to be kept to the same standard.

She has a personal and twisted standard of morality and ethics she holds others and herself to, her word is rarely given but is her bond.

She shares her real name with almost no one and goes by a small array of pseudonyms for the purposes of conducting her business.

She believes in being lean, mean and always in control. The concept of backsliding from her current position and authority is a source of fear for her and she will always fight for what she perceives as having earned.


The Coliseum. The roar of the crowds, the blood on the sand, and the soft clink of Denarius buying it all. Young Valeria was a reader; her father the historian and her mother the maid filled her with stories of great achievements in the past, coloured by perceptions of the current. Her father was the foremost authority on Roman civilization, and had an eye for sharing his learning and perception to the cultural elite through a large series of exposés, parties, artifact viewings, and charity events. This somewhat unique approach to teaching history to a more modern audience earned him a lot of exposure and for a short time his visits to any country would be find him welcomed by people of power and position attempting to be seen and exposed to the current fad while cultivating an appearance of intellectualism. Valeria was brought around with them; a combination of home schooling and tutors kept her keen and well learned for her age. Her play time was often spent with the children of the rich and powerful, watched over by thick necked bodyguards.

Young Valeria was exposed to the press and on occasion her parents would find her in the background pictures of newspapers. They began to understand the position they put her in one cold autumn day. Mistaken for one of the rich, Valeria was abducted – pulled right from her school ground and taken away in an unmarked van. That day the eyes and ears of the elite were not watching the poor girl. She was smuggled across the U.S. to the Mexican border and held captive for several days. Her captors sent threats and demands to a pair of parents who couldn’t supply them, nor convince someone else to provide the means of freeing their dear Valeria. A week passed before her captors finally realized that they had indeed taken the wrong child and she was now worthless to them. These men were thieves and abductors, not killers – especially of children. They could not risk getting caught on the U.S. side of the boarder, so they told the child that her parents were not coming for her and turned her loose to the figurative wolves that roamed the streets of Acapulco.

The streets were harsh to young Valeria. It was only through cold intelligence and luck that she was able to survive, and though a brutal degree of back alley violence she thrived. The demands of her situation and constant states of fight or flight caused her to develop her meta powers. An accidental murder of a street vendor forced her to hide and learn to control her new powers. She rarely used her powers except in extreme circumstances, but when called upon them there were almost no survivors to tell tales. Feeling cast out by her parents and emboldened by her new power, she was now determined to find her own way to security and power even if she had to step on others to get there. The constant fight for survival embittered her to the idea of ever trying to find her parents, and her pride reinforced this: If they were not willing to come to her she would not go to them; she would be stronger, richer, more bold and a ‘better person’ than they could ever hope to be.
Valeria had learned history’s lessons well and sought to find her own salvation and wealth in playing to one of mankind’s less celebrated vices: blood thirst. She used what little money she could collect to put together a brand new type of mediation on the streets. Through a combination of street savvy, quick talking, and appealing to greed she convinced the local gangs to settle their differences through a much more focused type of violence. It would save them their men and money to stake their claim through the most talented fighters, one from each gang, fighting to the death in the style of arenas of old. While she never took part in the fights themselves, arranging and presiding over them soon became its own twisted pleasure.

Due to the nature of these events, though, there was only so often she could charge, only so many turf wars she could see disputed, and only so much she could make as her cut as go-between. She decided it was time to chance the scale and nature of her operation. She took the near total sum of her earnings to date and secured a small warehouse – and within that warehouse she held fights. Local and brutal talent set against each other for a fee to the winner, and open betting to the crowds. She was careful with her planning. Never take too much, never rig the battles, and whip everyone into a fever with a carefully applied combination of music, booze, sex, and the free exchange of money.

Her prior talent for mediation still had its customers, though of a much different nature. With a reputation based on strict confidentiality and a neutral standing she started to offer safety and security for meetings of a much higher but still illicit nature. Hidden under the ring itself, or another equally secured location, she became the go-to source for speaking on a one-to-one level with petty dictators, drug lords, and paramilitary groups in a secure and non-violent setting, all for a marginal and flat fee. Rumours claim even some governments go through her to secure matters such as false flag operations and the shipment of guns to revolutionary factions, but only these phantom representatives and her know for sure.


1. Reaction
2. Agility
3. Endurance
4. Strength



Kinetic energy manipulation: From a young age Valeria has slowly grown into the talent of manipulating a kinetic energy source that is drawn from her own strength. This energy is explosive in nature. When it comes in contact with other sources of matter it discharges into a physical burst of heat and pressure. Unless specifically targeted, most of the kinetic force generates away from Valeria and towards its target, starting at point of impact.

This energy can be shaped into simple things, most commonly projectiles: bolts, larger explosive energy balls, and a point blank shockwave generated 180 degrees in front of her. Additionally she can shape this energy across her hands, providing a much more efficient melee weapon. With a short delay and with focus, Valeria can increase the strength of her energy projection, resulting in a more powerful effect. The energy is always a visible colour and is always generated directly from Valeria. It cannot be materialized at distance.

Valeria is immune to the explosive nature and heat generated by her own power, but not to these elements from other sources.



Weakness 1:
Explosive exposure: While Bloody Mary is immune to her power, she is not immune to the consequences of that power. Explosions are a dangerous thing and she is not immune to the after-effects of creating them. From splinters of wood, shards of stone and concrete, to many other environmental dangers, the nature of her power is both dangerous to its victim as well as its user.

Weakness 2:
Endurance drain: Bloody Mary calls on her own life force and endurance to produce these effects. Extended use will cause her to tire more quickly. Overuse can easily extend into collapsing under the strain of its demands, to instant blackouts should she ever try to produce more energy than her body can handle.

Bloody Mary keeps a FN2000 for situations where her powers are not appropriate

The Fluff

Bloody Mary is multilingual. She speaks the languages of money: Arabic, English, Mandarin, Cantonese, Russian, and Spanish.

The RP Sample

You don’t know who you are till hunger gets its teeth into you. Till there is no hole left on the belt to tighten it, and nothing in the pantry. Valeria Moore had never felt hunger, real hunger, in her life. Three days on the mean streets of Acapulco had changed a lot. Already she had given away all the trinkets she owned and now she had nothing but the clothes on her back and a great view of a marketplace.

The spices, scents and smells – they pushed her into the morning’s first pangs of hunger. She had seen other kids and some of the parents spoke to her, but she didn’t understand the language and had found herself running out of fear when approached. She found she couldn’t take her eyes off a few fat apples. She licked her parched lips, consumed by vivid thoughts of such a simple repast. Hunger, it changes people.

There was no real choice and the motivation was just too much. She ran, she ran faster than she thought she could and grabbed an armful of juicy, red salvation before racing as fast as her legs could carry her. She was almost out of the market when she heard frenzied footfalls. Shoes slapped on hardened ground and shouting in a language she couldn’t understand followed her flight. Some of her stolen bounty slipped through her arms and rolled across the floor, forgotten now in her growing panic.

She turned a sharp corner, hoping to find a way to get out of sight and what she witnessed caused her heart to jump into her throat. A dead end; she had reached the end of the market and found herself now in an alleyway. She dropped the apples and turned to face her hunter. He seemed like a giant to her, angry, red of face and shouting unfathomable words at the young teen, who felt very much like a little girl right now. The man was pulling off his belt, folding it in half and swinging it into the air in practice. Valeria fell back, scrambling across the dirty ground till she felt her back softly thud against the hard stone wall behind her.

As the man approached she held up her hands to protect herself, arms outstretched as if she could push away the offending belt by the power of her will alone. The first strike caught her hand, striking her fingers hard, numbing them from the force of the blow. She pulled her arms against herself in shock. Another. And another caught her wrist and cheek. She didn’t deserve this, she shouldn’t be here, this couldn’t be happening, could it? With her next startled breath she felt the world slow. Her hand extended in between the incoming blows. She would never understand why she did it, she just knew to do it, knew that was the way to end the pain, the humiliation. She felt heat welling up in her core and felt it further still, extending from her, leaving her with a soothing chill.

Her assailant fared less well. The attack wasn’t aimed, tossed by young, fearful hands. He had nowhere to go, no way to run, and no way to expect what was to come. As the hole opened in his chest he knew nothing more. Valeria was left stunned as the large man’s groan was cut short, and the he fell back in a wet pile, the smell of copper filling the air. Valeria sat there for a long, quiet moment before snatching up her prize and running as fast as she could. She didn’t know what had happened, she didn’t know what would happen, but she knew two things. The first was no one would ever push her around ever again. And the other thing? Nothing would ever taste as sweet as that first bite of apple, even if it was tinged with copper and fear.