Madame Eris Sange

by AngelofDarkness February 26th 2012, 2:08 am

Real Name: Angel Mae

Super Hero/Villain/Renegade/etc Name: Madame Eris Sange (Lady of Chaos and Blood)

Title: Mistress of Horror; Lady of Chaos; Wilted Rose; Madame Roulette; Maneater

”Oh, I’ll eat your heart out . . .”

Alignment: Villain

Age: 30

Gender: Female

Race: Irish

Hair: Long, straight, and black as night. Her hair stands out against her pale body, but always seems quite lifeless. Perfectly straight and perfectly ebony, it stretches down to below the small of her back.

Eyes: Height: 5”6

Weight: 132 lbs.

Costume Description/Image: [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

Personality: Eris is icy and deceptive. She finds humor in pain—a true sadist. She laughs a lot and cracks jokes a lot—but usually for the sake of her own sick amusement. In certain ways, she’s trapped in her child form, as that was when she was corrupted and experimented upon. She’s forever trapped in an almost two-faced personality—One moment she’s cold and completely sadistic, the next, she becomes a child and creepily tortures her victims. Blood red is her favorite shade of red—The shade of hair she once had and she strives to have it once more. Blood is like syrup for her—Delicious and sweet, but with two much, nauseating. With her cannibalistic ways and childish side, she enjoys to ‘play with her food’ causing gorey messes, rolling in the blood to try and be ‘red headed and beautiful like her former self, and then eats her victims. She’s insane. Completely insane. So insane that so it seems, that she even KNOWS it. She realizes that sometimes she zones in and out of her childish exterior—But most of the time, she’s simply a cold, evil, intelligent, and almost seductively smooth. Often, she can CHOOSE when to switch into her childish little ‘Angel’ side, but usually it’s uncontrollable.

History: Angel Mae was born to a rich, lovely family in London. A high-class family with money, good looks, and popularity. But it was always the seemingly happy and perfect that had dark, devastating secrets. The Mae family had a beautiful daughter and a name to math. Her name was Angel. Angel, growing up had, literally, everything. With pretty copper colored eyes and fiery red hair, she was the ‘odd’ but star child in the family. It seemed all of her relatives weren’t having children or couldn’t. She only had one blood-aunt and she was infertile and bitter. From what her mother told her, Angel believed that aunt to be almost nonexistent in the family. With all the money and beauty, Angel was entered into beauty pageants from a young age. She didn’t really enjoy them, as most pageant children don’t, but she’d been doing them since toddler years—It was second nature. Her mother, just like her, was gorgeous and perhaps a bit snobbish. Well, ‘snobbish’ didn’t get a point across. Lucie was Angel’s mother’s name and she was prude, rich, stuck up, and gave her daughter whatever she wanted. She became so obsessed with winning pageants that she even began to forget that it was SUPPOSED to be Angel’s choice. But young Angel never said anything. She was popular in school and had many friends and everything she could ever want . . .

Things did start to change a bit when Angel turned 10. The pageants were growing a bit harder as girls began to mature slightly and things weren’t completely based on the innocence and cuteness of an infant anymore . . . Lucie began to take things into her own hands. While Angel didn’t really mind that she was winning 3rd and sometimes not placing in pageants anymore, her mother thought otherwise. She began to give her daughter spray tans, made her wax her legs and everything only grown women would, and even going as far as giving her Botox to ‘get rid of the little wrinkles’.
Now, as a 10 year old, Angel didn’t realize all these things were bad—She thought it was good since, after-all, ‘Mum was always right’. As she gradually went through the years, getting waxes, painful injections by her MOTHER—not a professional—and getting spray tans, drama started. Around the age of 13, the claws came out for young girls. The popular crowd didn’t like the fact that Angel was so perfect and flawless. She was rich and won pageants all the time—they didn’t like her perfection. So when they found out she got Botox injections, spray tans, wore makeup constantly, and even got waxes, they started spreading horrible rumors about the young girl . . . That was the first time Angel really felt the pain that was the harsh real world . . .

Being such a young girl, all the makeup, injections, and spray tans were definitely taking an impact on her . . . When she took off her makeup and bathed at the end of the day, she could only stare in horror at the thing in the mirror. Her face wasn’t naturally smooth as it was when she was a child beauty queen . . . Her skin was permanently always stained an ugly orange/bronze color—making her look completely out of place in her pale skinned family. The injection sites where Botox had been put were always swelling up at the most inappropriate times and it was embarrassing . . .
At this point, Angel Mae was starting to become upset, depressed, and wanted to put an end to it . . . To be seen as a normal child—not a whore or a crazy freak because of choices her mother made. But Angel couldn’t ever tell her mother how much she hurt her and took her childhood and beauty away . . .
During Thanksgiving, their house was robbed and raided. It was a big mansion, so there were many little thugs running through the halls, terrorizing the family . . . 13 year old Angel watched as her father and brothers were murdered. And what scarred her to this day was what her mother did . . . At this time, Angel was hiding as her father had told her to and she watched from the kitchen pantry as the men of her family were slaughtered brutally. . .

The men attempted to gang rape Lucie, but instead, she did the most horrible thing a mother could’ve done. She ratted her own child out, telling them to rape her and take her instead . . . Unable to go anywhere, poor Angel was taken. They forced Lucie to watch as all the many gang members raped the young teen. Of course, Lucie felt regret for it and after awhile, she couldn’t stand it. Angel was screaming, dying on the inside every time the men violated her more and more. When she got in any free air, she was crying out for help from her mother, begging for her to stop it . . . Make the pain go away . . .

“Please be strong . . . .I love you with all of my heart.” It was feeble, but it was said. Lucie could only tell her tortured daughter that one phrase before the thugs decided to take torture to a whole new level. They wanted to play a ‘game’ with the two women . . . Taking out a switchblade, they sliced right into Angel’s pinned down arms and pointed the bloody dagger towards Lucie. They told her lick the blood off without cutting herself. If she could do that, they’d let Angel go and kill her—If she failed, then they’d murder Angel and leave her alive. Since the men had finally stopped raping her, Angel could breathe somewhat again . . . As a child, she expected her mother to always know what was best . . . But then again, this was the same spiteful woman that put all of her lost dreams into her child and ruined the young girl . . . .
Lucie took the knife and licked the blood off—But purposely cut her tongue a bit on the blade. Purposely. She tasted the blood of her child and was about to let it be shed even more . . .
Angel couldn’t believe what she’d seen and began to wail and cry her young heart out. But things took a turn . . . The men had gotten their fun out of Angel and she was a kid. Lucie was a full grown woman and their first intention for the rape victim and she didn’t have a scratch on her. So, they turned, stabbed Lucie several times and made sure that Angel was watching . . . Completely sadistic, they lifted Lucie’s dead body and let the blood drip all over the horrified girl. It was disgusting . . . And to top it off, these cruel men kept true to Lucie’s words . . .

“I love you with all of my heart . . . “ They butchered Lucie’s dead body and tore her heart out. To staked the dagger through the dying organ and left it right in front of Angel and left.

Angel was alone. Surrounded by the dead bodies of her relatives, stripped naked, beaten up, raped, abused, and covered in her mother’s blood . . . It was such a scene that deserved to be in horror movies . . .

The experience certainly changed Angel and after the funerals of her entire family, she was shipped off to her aunt. The aunt no one had anything good to say about—the same aunt Lucie had never even met . . .

This aunt was Aunt Arista. Arista was the exact opposite of Lucie look-wise. She wasn’t a gorgeous red head with a spunky personality, she was a dull haired brunette with wilted coal-like eyes and little to no personality. Her husband had left her and she never had any children. When Angel was first shipped to her, she was . . . . not nice, but not mean. She fed Angel, gave her a room, and brought her to school every day . . .

But once she’d lived with her strange aunt for a few months, things started to change. Arista didn’t seem to care that this child had lost her brothers and parents right in front of her—She started laying chores onto the 14 year old. She beat her and yelled at her, saying that she was lazy and needed people to clean up after her just like her mother. So there it was . . . Arista was always jealous of her sister—While beautiful Lucie was out on dates and with her friends, Arista had to stay home, clean the house, do homework, study hard . . . .She was like the unfortunate Cinderella of the family . . . She found Angel to just be a mini-Lucie—And her full intentions were to make sure that the child went through everything SHE went through.

Angel lasted two years of harsh chores, beatings, and being yelled at and she only became more miserable and dull. When Aunt Arista fell ill with breast cancer, she never cooked or made lunch for Angel anymore. Not that the teen MEANT to be ‘useless’ and unable to help herself—but with her aunt constantly yelling, beating her, and making her do chores, she hardly ever sat down to see how to cook things . . .
She ate as much as she could find like bread, water, peanut butter—Simple things. But the supplies didn’t last. Soon, her aunt was put into the hospital and was never home, leaving the now 15 year old to fend for herself . . .
One day, she was wandering around the house, desperately hungry, trying to see If there were any more of the simple things she could eat. She tripped over the cat and being so tired and weakened, she completely fell onto the wooden floors. Splinters shot up through her body where her skin scraped. When she got up, she found some tweezers to pull the splinters out. Of course, tiny little amounts of blood trickled out. Curious and completely disheveled in her depressed and deprived form, she licked the blood away. It was refreshing and interesting in taste. She liked it. When she heard the cat meowing—wailing more like, she forgot her blood tasting just for a moment.
The cat had gotten caught in the cat door, cutting itself on nail holding the cat door in place. But when she saw the blood, it wasn’t the feline she was worried about anymore . . . Disgusting as it is, in her state of delusion, she licked the blood up . . . It was wonderful and refreshing. And as the cat continued to cry out, she was suddenly reminded of her mothers screams when she died . . . How sad it was—but how much betrayal she felt from that woman . . . Taking the cat and finding a kitchen knife, she sliced the cat the same way the men did and she tried her own luck—doing the same thing her mother was forced to do. She stuck the knife into her mouth, licking the blood off and not cutting herself at all . . .

So her mother DID do it on purpose . . .this knife was far bigger than the one Lucie was given—It was bullshit and Angel felt more betrayal from her late mother . . . In her sadness and also anger she felt, she decided to experiment more on the cat and stab it the same way her mother was stabbed. Not as noisy as a human kill, but nonetheless, noisy. From there, she fidgeted around the carcass, seeking out organs and licking the kitchen knife proudly every few moments. There were cat guts, gore, and blood all over the kitchen floor . . .But Angel relished in it—The smell was horrifying, but Angel liked it. It was beautiful to her and delicious. If the cat’s blood and insides had been so beautifully tasty, she now wondered if a human would be just as appealing as her blood and the cats blood . . .

Still somewhat sane and a bit in shock of what she had DONE to such an innocent animal, she guiltily cleaned up the remains and mopped the floors until they were pristine and there were no traces of crimson or the smell of iron—A smell the teenager now seemed to crave . . .
When her aunt got back, she was weak and frail and going broke. She needed money . . . Arista didn’t care about Angel—she just needed to pay off her medical bills. So, she donated Angel to a research facility. They needed volunteers to do genetic experiments on—such as what they could do to change eye color, skin colors, have engraved tattoos and find a way to get the people to survive, and to have permanent lip stick colors. Instead of getting a good portion of money for the scientists to use Angel for a few experiments, Arista told them to keep her and give her more money.

She got just that and Angel was now a lab rat. She was cared for, but went through torturous experiments . . .

In short, 3 years passed, Angel was now 18 and a total mutated freak. They were testing changing the eyecolor of a human being on Angel for so long that they couldn’t even restore her once vivacious and beautiful amber eyes . . . They were disgusting and dark. The whites of her eyes were now an inky black, her irises an ugly red/orange mixture—A result of the scientists trying to give her old color back – and her pupils were slanted like a felines . . . They tested changing Angel’s pigmentation and eventually had done so many projects and changed her melanin number that they had to bleach her just so she’d remain healthy and living . . . Her skin is now completely white as paper. Many people were demanding ‘engraved’ tattoos like older tribal ones. So, they practiced burning and imprinting markings onto Angel’s pasty skin, letting the burns heal and turn black, and then filling it in with ink . . .It worked, but was so incredibly painful . . . And the last big experiment that did on her was the permanent lip stick that was so demanded by the models around the world . . . They bleached her lips pink, red, blue, black . . .all colors. But while all colors were reversible, they couldn’t get rid of black . . . Her hair was died many times and eventually to black just to keep it solid . . .

Now full grown up, the once beautiful pageant queen, Angel, was a mutated freak. Her skin was as pasty and white as paper, her eyes dark and eerie as the midnight sky, her lips forever stained black, and she had scorched and tattooed black markings all over her body . . . She had no self esteem anymore. . .

One day, the doctors and scientists were taking blood tests on Angel . . . They put the blood into viles for the tests—They told her she was probably due to die . . . That her blood was infected and all the chemicals they’d put into her were going to kill her off . . . That was the breaking point for her. As she lay in her bed, she noticed she was attached to an I.V. The liquid inside going to her system . . . She was so tired and weak that she couldn’t yell or scream the way she wanted to. But then she noticed it . . . As she focused on the water in the I.V. bag, it was movie along with the motions of her hands . . .

She practiced for a few days and then even noticed she could control the blood in the viles. HER blood—it was water and it worked . . So when the doctors came to check on her, she broke of out there—out of that hell.

She stole many of the surgery tools, sharp tools, used blood and water to her advantage and completely MURDERED each and every doctor that had touched her . . . And once she’d either killed them by stabbing, slicing, or using her blood as a weapon, she sat in the large building taking in the destruction and everything she’d done . . .It was much like that time she’d killed the cat—But this time, she loved the feeling. A feeling of revenge and getting what she wanted—Giving back all she’d put up with . . . But then. She was hungry.
She took one of the nicest looking women there and took a syringe—the same syringe they’d used to test her blood, and drained out her blood. What she didn’t get with the syringe and put into a jar, she’d let leak out on the floor. She simply figured that if she DID now have this strange ability to control and manipulate water, she’d use blood again . . . She used scalpels and knives and literally skinned the pretty woman. Skinned her completely. She took the muscle and meat and cooked it in the facility kitchen. It was delicious—the most satisfying meal she’d ever gotten. The thing about human flesh was it was delicious and tangy raw and satisfying and perfect when cooked. And what she found wonderful was that every being tasted different.
After collecting many different types of blood from the dead bodies, she took the skin of the pretty woman and made a doll. A doll out of skin with the mouth stitched closed and mismatched button eyes. With the syringe needle, she dipped it in the dead woman’s blood and delicately wrote the date in which she made the kill on the front of the dolls body.

There was one more stop though, before she was truly set free. She found her dying aunt—Weak, but alive . . . She made that woman get on the floor, scrub the floors, and then play Russian Roulette . . . And the Gun won. After that, she made an ugly doll out of her aunts skin and stabbed the doll as many times as she stabbed that horrible woman . . .

She got the idea of using her blood as an even BETTER weapon when she remembered her aunt having breast cancer—Also meaning there was something wrong with her BLOOD. When she was donated blood, she needed to right TYPE or she would’ve died . . . It was sick, but simple. Infect her victims with disgusting, differently placed blood, and they die on their own . . .
From then on, she took a disgusting name. She didn’t want any memories of ‘Angel’ the beautiful girl that was turned into a monster . . . She was Madame Eris Sange. Or roughly translated to ‘Lady of Chaos and Blood’. She has no real motives about ‘taking over the world’ as most criminals do. Her main goal is finding other mutants that were hurt like her and finding the horrible people that create mutants and abominations every day. But . . . Despite an almost ‘good cause’ for killing scientists and experimental doctors, she’s still a cannibal. She regularly kills innocent pedestrians to restock on her blood, make new skin dolls for her creepy obsession, and food. She has many names on the street, but usually people are too scared to speak of her . . . If someone gets a cut, they’d better hope Eris didn’t slip by and lightly splash that person with her infected blood—If so, the mutant has a keen sense of smell and marks her victims . . .Once they die, she can smell it and goes for them.
She was meant to die that day in the science facility, but she never did. Deeming her immortal and only able to die with an anti-chemical against the ones in her body . . . She realized this when she didn’t age after she turns 18. Because of this, she’s turned her career as a villain public and now lives in her old home . . . The abandoned mansion her family once lived in and were slaughtered in. It is now called ‘Sange Manor’. It’s dark, gloomy, and separated from most all neighborhoods. Only her few allies visit there and the few that come out of curiosity never return . . .
Because of her childhood having been taken away, she finds an eerie joy with her skin dolls and it isn’t odd at all to catch her talking to them and playing with them—Or even complimenting them as friends would . . . She’s eaten so many people—Heard so many pleas for help in different accents and dialects, that she can easily mimic many to gain the trust of future victims and seem somewhat normal . . . She’s wonderful at deceiving and if she simply wears sunglasses, she easily blends in . . . All the better to get an easy meal. But usually, she enjoys the thrill of the hunt. Don’t bleed around the alleyways or near Sange Manor. Or you’ll be a new addition to her doll collection . . .

Powers: Her mixed genetics, infected incisions, and horrid chemical mutations upon her hair, skin, and eyes, have given her blood flow horrid new anti-bodies. This has given her the cannibalistic sense. Part of her cannibal nature is from her personality and insanity—Her want and need of revenge. From eating so many victims, different parts, genetics, and races, she has the ability to mock, mimic and voice, accent, and language. She finds pain in pleasure and one of her strangest power is blood manipulation. She cannot control blood while in a body, as the blood is moving against her force and constantly flowing—But once she kills her victims, she eats them, of course, and then uses a syringe to drain most of their blood into little viles that she uses as a weapon later . . .

Eris has the ability to the iron and water properties in blood. Her blood isn’t so much as DAMAGING as it is disgusting and more of an after-effect attack. She can use the blood as a whip, weapons, and barriers, but she can’t yet FREEZE or boil any of it. She has the capability to do so, but hasn’t found out how yet. The reason its such a long-range attack is because she usually CUTS her enemies, smooth talks them, strikes again, and makes SURE there are OPEN wounds around the neck and the areas of arteries. Then, she strikes with her blood.
The disgusting and sickening part about her ‘abilities’ is that when she soaks her victims in blood, she’ll either choose to kill them there with one of her many brutal attacks and weapons, or . . . She’ll let them die on their own. She’s got a bit of a tracking system, almost like a dog. She can smell their blood and the blood she engulfs them in. If they get free of her, she’ll still find them . . . Once they die, Eris can smell their dead scent and goes after them for her next meal and restock of blood . . .

The reason that works is because with open wounds, infections and other substances are free to wander into the body. Other blood is no exception. When she whips out disgusting, old, dead blood on her victims, it seeps into their wounds and skin. One, the blood type isn’t always the same; therefore, it’d cause horrible things to happen within the body. And second and most potent is the fact that this blood has been on the ground, out of a human body, old, re-used, and never once purified in no way shape or form.

Power Grid:

SPD: 3
END: 3
INT:5
EP: 6
~5 EP. Blood Manipulation
~1EP Heightened sense

FS: 3
STR: 2

Power Grid colours: Dark, dark red if possible, and black. ^_^

Character Image/Description: [You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]

Roleplay Sample: (Not new, Im Athena/Scarlette XD)