[hider=Nightshade]
[b]Name:[/b] Nightshade (birthname Rinoa, surname unknown)

[b]Age:[/b] 24

[b]Race:[/b] Human

[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Affiliation:[/b]
[list][*](formerly) [i]Brother West Urchins[/i] - A large group of orphaned children that ran through the streets of the western Cardinal City, taking to pickpocketing and minor theft attempts to survive. Nightshade ran alongside these kids since she was only four, until age sixteen, when she was old enough to adventure on her own outside of the city.
[*](formerly) [i]Yrdra's Head-Hunters[/i] - A relatively prominent group of bounty hunters, snipers, and assassins that occupy a small south-western region of Rainend in a small town known as Droplet. They act as the "law" in the region, keeping the peace and reporting kills back to the western or southern Cardinal City. Nightshade joined up with them eight years ago, making useful contacts and allies to aid her throughout most of the southwest corner of Rainend.[/list]

[b]Appearance:[/b]
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[img]http://pre06.deviantart.net/919d/th/pre/f/2013/249/8/7/wild_west_by_abyssokami-d6lb3f4.png[/img]
About 5'5", slim build, 120lbs
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[b]Personality:[/b]
Nightshade herself is quite loving and sincere - but there's a particular air about her... Almost a cynicism in the way she talks, but understandably so - the way she had been treated throughout her youth gives her a feeling of estrangement. Yet Nightshade consistently tries to form valuable relationships with the people she interacts with, to ensure their aid in situations she needs them for.

Often, throughout conversations with people, Nightshade can seem distant with how she talks, almost mystic in her phrasing. Looking at it out of context would suggest she's on a different level from other people, or simply that her head is in the clouds most of the time. It leaves people wondering how she's going to respond to them, regardless of the simplicity of the question.

[b]Occupation:[/b]

Head-Hunter (casteless)

[b]Equipment:[/b]
[list][*][i]Spitshot:[/i] Yrdra's very own, given to Nightshade before she passed away - an Amethyst mineral weapon, designed as a sniper rifle. She often wears the weapon across her back, like Yrdra used to.
[hider=Spitshot]
The 3rd gun shown.[img]http://orig00.deviantart.net/e289/f/2010/331/7/d/sniper_rifle_by_gin_sensei-d33qkku.jpg[/img]
[/hider]The rifle's origins are unknown, even by Nightshade, but she knows her mentor Yrdra recieved the weapon many decades ago. The rifle's personality is brash, and occasionally hotheaded - and the bullets themselves are incredibly the same. They take no solid form, cutting through an opponent with ease, but leaving momentous damage inside the flesh. If, for some reason, the target is able to escape with a single shot in them, they won't last long - the material the bullets are made of leave a residue behind in the wound, which continues heating up - to the point that the flesh of the target begins melting. So, death from this rifle is either swift and sudden, or a slow, horribly painful experience.
[*][i]6-shot revolover:[/i] Just in case her kill ever gets too close, or something unexpected happens, Nightshade will generally have this 6-shot at hand, holstered on her right hip. It has a chrome finish and etchings of a floral design all across the surface.
[*][i]Basic bowie:[/i] This knife has saved Nightshade's ass more than enough times - when shit goes awry,  she can always reach for her left boot and pull this baby out. A black coating stretched across the 9" blade, save for the silver line across the piercing edge.
[*][i]Neo-wild-western garb:[/i] Black jeans, knee-high studded boots, and a pitch-black short poncho often cover Nightshades body, with deep purple fingerless gloves gripping Spitshot.[/list]

[b]Abilities:[/b]

[i]Bull's Bullet (Occupation):[/i] Nightshade has become quite gifted with long-distance shots, and spends a good deal of her free-time aiming for far targets - such as a glass bottle, five thousands yards away. Spending so much time on this talent has really made her into an excellent shot, and is almost always reliable in hunting attempts.
[i]The Weak and Weary (Racial/Personal):[/i] Having spent her youth living poorly, Nightshade is prolific when communicating with others who are typically down on their luck or are long-time strugglers. However, she lacks the correct presence when amongst those who are typically better suited off.
[i]Regular Pick-pocket (Personal):[/i] A childhood of thieving just to get by was essential to Nightshade, and her keen eye and swift fingers continue to ensure she gets what she needs - especially if the item in question is particularly shiny. Nightshade is fairly good at pickpocketing, so long as the person she's taking her goods from doesn't notice a little nudge when walking through a crowd.
[i]Foggy Air (Occupation/Personal):[/i] The very air around her seems to shift - Nightshade's scent, intoxicating. Her words are always placed so... Peculiarly, yet with such eloquence. But she has a tendency to disappear when least expected, and stay hidden. When out hunting, Nightshade can find great hiding spots, vantage points, and the like, and stay away from leering eyes for a great time. She also has a way with getting what she needs when bartering or asking around for information.

[b]Biography:[/b] Dirt and dust caked the girl's skin, the only protection from the constant heat above the West Cardinal City. Young Rinoa ran through the browned streets beside the other children, hooping and hollering in their games. The occasional glint or shine would catch the eye, and in a quick brush, the shimmer vanished - now in the small hands of the child. For thirteen long, hungry years, this is how she lived, taking the coin she needed, nabbing at foods in the market when nobody was looking. Her parents died before she could even remember them, and her care was left to the City. All she had left of her past life was her name. But now, she forgets that at times, too.

Until she was sixteen, Rinoa knew no home, often sleeping in crevices with her brothers and sisters who were orphaned by the City. Here, they looked out for each other, keeping out of the grasp of authorities, knowing to love the shadows and using their innoncence to their advantage. She always stayed a bit distant, though - not because she didn't want to talk to the children, nor because she didn't need them - but her mind didn't belong. It was somewhere else, always looking over the horizon at the sunset each night, staring up at the dim stars far above whatever nook she had nuzzled herself into for safety.

Finally, her sixteenth year cast her into the wasteland, too old to run with her comrades any longer, and she wandered. Scavenging could only get her so far - and it got her into trouble, of all things. A few days' travel south left her hot, dehydrated, and on the cusp of death - until she saw the large metal barn - more of a shed, really - which she rummaged through merrily, quenching her thirst and resting there for the night. The next morning brought with it a harsh reality, as she was thrown from her shaded bed of dried grass into the already beating sun by two thick, rough hands. A party of four large figures looked down at the young girl, discovering they had been stolen from and ready to take repayment. Just as one of the men lunged at the cowering teen, a piercing wind stung the air, along with a strong [i]*thunk*[/i], and the man was down on the ground, the blood from between his eyes already soaking into the cracked earth. The three remaining attackers began darting about, frantically searching for cover. Another shot rang out into the still desert air, and a second man was down, then another - the final hulking figure smart enough to grab Rinoa as his shield.

Quickly recognizing her situation, Rinoa ducked down and kicked, hard - straight into the man's lower gut, doubling him over. She darted to the shed for cover, and a final burst echoed across the motionless air. After only a few minutes in hiding, the distant tapping of boots against the dirt came closer to her location. She stumbled at first, then found a good vantage point as her next threat entered - an older woman in a long desert duster, a rifle slung across her back.

"I mean you no harm, girl. I had hoped after what I'd done for you, you'd be more inclined!" The aged voice cracked, but still sounded genuine and full of heart. Rinoa swept down from above the woman, planning to surprise her from behind, but as she placed her feet and looked up, the wrinkled face was already staring back at her.

The woman was named Yrdra. She took Rinoa back to the small town of Droplet, just a little over a hundred people in the total village limits, including the guns-for-hire. For the next eight years of her life, Rinoa trained under Yrdra, honing her talent with a gun, and took the name Nightshade for her official mercenary title. Eight years of hunting, killing, and collecting coin kept Nightshade on her toes, and she quickly became quite renowned in the area for her marksmanship. After Yrdra passed away, Nightshade began wandering again, still relying upon her aim to bring in the money she needed, but once again without a home.

No one knew where to find her, but some of the bounty hunters from back in Droplet were able to get a hold of her - The Duke brought an important statement, summoning the sniper to the north Cardinal City. She had nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do - and surely, this had to be a relatively important matter - the Duke himself was involved. She gathered her few items and made way for the underground city.
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