Inkwell

Real Name: Eevi Väinölä
Villain Name: Inkwell
Title: Cold Bitch, Susi
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Age: 109, Appears 19
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Hair: Pale Blonde
Eyes: Orange eyes, her pupils become crosshairs while her power is activated
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 147 Ibs
Blood type: AB+






Eevi once loved her fellow man and knew the joy and laughter of sharing her time with others, reveling as a group experiencing the thing man calls community and brotherhood. Once. The Eevi of the modern day views people dispassionately and her fellow man as things. Yes, they exist, feel, and think. But none of their experiences are hers so why should she care, HOW can she care? People fight, cheat, and steal when they're desperate or at their worst, why shouldn't she be the same? Eevi views acting as a better person to be a facade of morals that people use to lie about what they would do should their life be on the line.

If she wants to eat something, she will eat it. If she needs to pay for it, she'll steal the cash. If the person she robbed has a problem, they can be silenced. Simple as. As such she has no qualms about her line of work as an assassin. Dying is a natural part of every creatures existence, even children learn that very young. So to kill for money is to profit off of the most natural process in life, death. It's simple business practice really she'd be quite dumb to not use her abilities in such a manner.

In the life she has grown to live thanks to her contract pay, Eevi has grown accustomed to a well provisioned life of luxury that has accrued a dangerous spending habit on her wants that can slip on such an easy whim. Comfy beds she replaces a week into owning when she sleeps wrong on it one night. A deluxe apartment that she will break the lease on when noticing she can see a poor student struggling with bills and life in general by looking down through her kitchen window at a lower building. And sweets, the heart failure levels of confectionaries she has invested into having in her life would have a Candyman the level Willy Wonka himself sweating at the supply and demand of her gluttony. Short, sweet, and simple? she is fickle with lifestyle, gluttonous with comforts, wanton with her violence, and unaccompanied by the burden of morals.


If one were to go to the region of South Karelia in Finland, they might find the remains of an old ruined village with a faded sign reading Metsäjärvi. The wood still burned from the battle that happened here remains, telling a story of a one sided fight that was a dance of frost and fire that fateful night. The stones still charred by fire and blackened by the soot. Old stains mar both with an old, faded, dark brown, highlighting the bullet holes inking the surfaces with these stains in a macabre and grim duet. one home as burnt and black as the rest holds a difference however. It is not old burns from the fire of this old battle darkening the small hunter's cottage near the forest edge, it is ink, dried and set in but not faded. The stains of ink outline multiple figures silhouetted on the wall in the ink, covering their faces, cowering. Following the source of ink from the blast pattern given off in the home, the intrepid explorer of this abandoned ruin once called Metsäjärvi could almost swear it looked as if a cowering person were sitting in the fetal position in the corner by a crushed shelf.

Finland was a long time ago for Eevi however. The soviets were long gone, Metsäjärvi had been abandoned longer, and Mama and Papa gone longer than that. Her inkwell saved her. How? She couldn't answer. But she knows the powers she acquired from that strange Inkwell she found in a tall Karelian birch tree were certainly not there before that snow covered night in the fires of the Winter War. She remembers waking up to the bite of snow through the roof of her home, thankfully covering the bodies in what could no longer be her home that she didn't yet have the stomach to see. She gathered what things she could and left her childhood home, her village, behind and carried on towards Helsinki the only way she knew how, one foot in front of the other, clasping her Inkwell close to her breast.

Whatever had happened had marked Eevi's body permanently, tattoos looking like the cartridges of a simple sidearm had appeared across the knuckles of her hands. While curious and perplexing, the grief stricken girl had her survival to focus on ahead of this mystery on her body. The blur of the Continuation War that followed the Winter War and the Cold War is only a memory that embitters Eevi to think back upon. The Ryssä had stolen their land, The Germans had used them, and the West had let it all happen. If they couldn't be relied upon then Finland would have to rely on itself, as would Eevi. A poor starving girl begging in Finland found little sympathy amongst the plethora of other war refugees of the Winter War and following Continuation War that had plagued the Finnish people and nation. She found few offers for help, even less being without a catch.

It was one of these unscrupulous offers that allowed Eevi to discover her powers. During the winter the year that followed the end of the Second World War a large and rich man, who would often harass the refugees, had propositioned Eevi with what he had probably considered an amazing offer. If she would sleep with him and live with him, she would never be hungry or poor again. His name was Aimo, in spite of all the names Eevi has forgotten over the decades since the tragedy that befell her in 1939, she couldn't forget his name. How could she after all, you never forget the name of your first kill. Desperate as she was, Eevi was still proud in her own way and refused Aimo as he had a reputation of making the same offer to the refugees of the city and she would not be another one of his trophies.

Aimo however was just as proud as her it would seem, and equally as wrathful to match it. The man unleashed an assault of blows upon the starving woman, knocking her to her back and informing her that no one could refuse him, certainly not her. He taunted her that his wealth had come from his secret ties with the Soviets and how, if only they had occupied the whole country, he'd have known greater wealth and power than his current position. Then he wouldn't have needed the false pretense of "asking". The rage she felt at this man. The burning fury at him, the world, and mankind itself. How could her parents and friends be gone while this collaborator, this animal, this Traitor drew breath still. She extended her fingers and mimicked holding a pistol as if she were hunting with her father or training with the Lotta Svärd once again and uttered two words in Finnish "Click" "Bang"

His chest caved in with the force as if a steel girder had swung and impacted it. He gave a recognition to what happened but made no sound, his chest was far too destroyed for that. The blood he coughed up from the impact however was copious and taught Eevi her first lesson with her powers, stay out of the splash zone. He collapsed backwards onto the snow covered streets of Helsinki alone in the world with the only witness to his demise being a would be victim. Eevi would then loot his body and leave it in the streets where he fell and made her move. She had to act quickly to steal what valuables he had from his home before he was identified after all.

Looting what she could from his home, Eevi took a moment of reflection at what had just happened and noticed something interesting. One of the cartridges on her right hand was only and outline of itself now instead of being filled in with the black ink that marked the others. While she had a theory about that she had her newfound wealth to see too and make proper use of. Aimo had not lied, he was quite wealthy off of whatever services he had rendered for the Ryssä, and Eevi knew exactly how she would make use of it. If her powers were real and she had not imagined how Aimo met his end, she could seize the day and take what she wanted with this gift from the Ink.

Purchasing a ticket in a nice cabin on a ship, she ferried aboard to a land of opportunities for anyone with the means. The United States of America, where even unsavory methods of acquiring "the good life" had to be respected to a degree. And in the fresh soil of the new giant on the world stage, Eevi would begin to make a name for herself around the darker corners of the world as a reliable person for silencing the unreliable for good. As the years went on Eevi would not notice any change in her physical age but would not question it nor mind it. If she were to have died that night in 1939 without the preternatural intervention of her inkwell, she may as well look the age she'd have died at then. It's only fair after all.

Force Rounds: Eevi has ten cartridge tattoos on the back of both of her hands. She loses the use of a set amount of cartridges based of what setup she goes through when firing. To regain use of any cartridge Eevi has to just fill it back in with any black color, be it from her Inkwell, a sharpie, or staining it with something. The strength of the shot is affected by the quality of the "ink" she uses to fill in her tattoos however and will be less impactful without proper ink to use, reducing what could feel like getting slammed by a truck to punched by a hormonal teenager based on the downgrade in quality.

• "Click. Bang.": Eevi mimes finger guns, holding her index and middle fingers out with her thumb sticking up. When she says click she moves her finger down as if cocking a pistol hammer and readies a force round in the metaphysical chamber. When she says bang a round of force is fired from her finger tips and impacts where she had been pointing. Each time she fires one of these rounds, one of the cartridge tattoos on the hand that fired the shot loses whatever ink Eevi has used to fill the tattoo in and signifies one less round she has to fire with that hand.
  

• "Click. Pop.": If Eevi performs the same setup as before but says "Pop" instead then the shot silences all sounds the target makes and cushions the impact of their fall for 10 seconds to allow her to more silently deal with targets or make less of a scene while doing her work. Each time she fires a "Pop" two cartridges are used by the power.
  

• "Click. Boom.":  Unlike the prior uses of her power, Eevi holds her arms in a way as if aiming down a rifles sights and readies the "Click" step by acting like she is pulling back a bolt. When she says "Bang" all tattoos on the firing hand are consumed of their ink and the impact of that shot is the sum of force from all shots having been fired at once that were consumed i.e. If she has 4 shots left, "Bang" will have the impact of 4 shots in one when they hit the target.
  

• RELOADING!: Filling in her cartridges takes delicate hands, time, and a good chunk of her attention as even a freckle of skin being unfilled on the tattoo makes it useless.
  

• Useless from water: Outside of clothing or covering i.e. gloves, there is nothing to stop the tattoos filling from being washed away, smeared, or stained.
  

• Shush: If Eevi Can't Speak she can't use the rounds
  

• Not one for hand holding: If Eevi cannot move her hands as described above then the power will not work either. Even breaking a finger the wrong direction will stop that hand from being of use.
  

"The Inkwell": Eevi has carried this old copper Inkwell with her for the last 84 years and brings it everywhere with her. Every successful shot she makes replenishes the ink which she can then use to fill the rounds on her hands back in. From her many tests conducted with her powers it would seem that her shots are at their strongest when the tattoos are filled in with ink from the Inkwell. She does not know it's origin and does not care about that, it is the closest thing she would have to a "partner" in her career and cherishes it as such.


Eevi has no idea why she doesn't age or where her powers/the inkwell came from but she just doesn't frankly care enough as long as life is comfortable and the status quo of it remains unchanged.
Eevi does not need to speak in a certain language to use her powers. She just needs to understand the word she is saying for each step in that language, click, boom, pop, bang, etc.

Winter, 1933, Finland.
The snow bit her face, hiding under the brush the only other color she saw was the red of her nose and the brown of Papa's rifle. He had taken her on a hunt as usual and this was to be her first kill instead of just helping Papa with the aftermath of it as usual. She's old enough now, it's time for her to learn how to handle a gun." She recalled her father's voice to Mama's protests before he brought her out into the woods with him. She had lay in her place for around 1 hour now as Papa had said and the time had finally arrived for her patience to payoff. From the far tree line a lone reindeer walked out from the thick brush into the field. It was alone and small that could mean only one thing to Eevi....

"A baby. abandoned by it's mother it would seem." Eevi held her breath, not taking her eyes off the lone Reindeer and hoped the pity she felt for it would be felt by her father too and awaited his response in the quiet that he let hang after his statement. "It will be a mercy then, go on now Kullannuppu. There's enough meat on there for a good hunt today." The dread that sank to her gut with her father's encouragement weighing her heart down on top of it would have been enough to make another girl her age vomit at the stress of the situation, but not her, not when she had to impress Papa. Steadying her breath, Eevi pulled the rifle close into her shoulder and aimed into its sights.

Once the reindeer had stumbled it's way halfway across the field, unaware of it's approach towards the concealed hunters, Eevi began her delicate and rehearsed squeeze of the trigger. That was when the reindeer did something that gave her pause. It began to let out a cry, picking it's head up towards the sky and crying to the forest around it. "Crying for it's mother, poor thing. They look close enough, take the shot now Eevi." Eevi felt the reassuring yet stern arm of her father drape over her shoulders in the brush in encouragement. Giving a silent nod that accompanied a silent prayer muttered under her lips to god, Eevi pulled the trigger as the young reindeer let out it's third and last cry. Eevi did not remember her father's kind words at this act, nor did she remember collecting her kill, what she remembered however was how she could have sworn, while walking away from that field, that she heard a cry similar to the reindeer's own answering it's long gone voice.

87 years later, Dallas.
With a gasp Eevi shot awake in the lounging chair she had cozied up in while relaxing between work. "A dream, right.. I was sleeping." Relaxing back into her chair and taking in the summer sun of Dallas, Texas on the rooftop deck of her suite Eevi reaches over for the grapefruit mimosa she had been drinking only to her disappointment come to the realization that it has gotten far to warm in the Texas sun. "A shame, I had hoped the heat wouldn't be that intense in Texas." Dawning a pouting face that would be unbecoming for any other assassin of her caliber but entirely far to in character for Eevi at this point, she dumps the glass back into the rest of the pitcher she had poured it from. "I guess I'll need to find a new, cooler state to live in. I absolutely cannot be having my snacks and treats going back while I lounge after all." Grabbing her phone off the nearby table, she begins to browse for where she would go next.