Name: Harlyn Rita Enright- at least, that’s what she’s taken to calling herself. Her true name is something far different, and lends too much information about her for her liking.
Gender: Female
Species: Demon
Age: Unknown. Epsilon claims to have forgotten.
Room Number:
Rooming With:
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Appearance:


Epsilon’s favored form is that of a rather comely- if not somewhat worn- woman in her mid twenties or so. She stands at roughly 6’1 feet or so, with a body hardened by both combat and strenuous labor. Her skin is tawny in color, littered in scars and tattoos, and her hair is a deep black, shot through with streaks of silver. Seeing how it’s long enough to reach the center of her back, she tends to keep it braided back, although it’s not uncommon to see it left to hang loose on her lazy days. Her eyes are a warm shade of hazel.

She prefers to dress simply- a pair of jeans and a t-shirt are enough to get her through the day, along with a nice pair of leather work boots. Over this, Epsilon wears a battered bomber jacket. She’s nearly always found with a cigarette hanging from her bottom lip, and with the tattoo on her collarbone, the Greek Epsilon symbol, left in full view.

Personality:
Epsilon is a friendly (if not rugged and somewhat eccentric) woman by nature. Calm and lackadaisical, it’s notably difficult to ruffle her feathers, or get another response to any real prodding than a good-natured chuckle and a dry quip. She can be remarkably amiable towards friends and enemies alike, and is fiercely loyal to the former, but there is a somewhat darker aspect of her personality in turn. Epsilon is violent and somewhat hedonistic, relishing in fist-fights and baser pleasures.

Bio:
In another lifetime, the creature who would one day come to take the moniker of “Epsilon” lived deep in the bowels of Hell. She was a Commander of her own little slice of the army of the damned, infamous for her ruthless tactics and nigh unpredictable nature. In another lifetime, the creature carved her name in blood and bellies, and relished in it.

And then, at the height of her legacy, the creature gave up her titles and her glory, to live among men.

Epsilon’s reasons for doing so are something she keeps close to her chest. If asked, she’ll often shrug, offhandedly claim that she had a sort of disagreement with the wrong people. Whatever the reason, she cheerfully threw her old name over her shoulder, and donned the persona she holds today. Her taste for the baser pleasures of life hadn’t waned since her departure, however, and she promptly took up work as a mercenary. She slept around. She explored the depths of human vice firsthand. She drank in life with vigor.

She was floating in between jobs when she heard tale of this mysterious Academy. With nothing better to do, she decided to sign up, if not to experience something new.

Power 1: Shapeshifting: Epsilon, while unable to turn herself into an animal or any other person than herself, possesses two forms- that of her human persona, and that of her demon. The latter form is something far different, with great wings, claws as long as a man’s forearm, the horns of a ram, and an amalgamation of other odd features. It’s possible for her to carry these traits into her human form, which is something she often exploits in favor of taking her full demonic shape.

Power 2: Sin Absorption: Being a demon, Epsilon has the power to feed on the sinful actions and thoughts of others. It’s easiest for her to convert this into regenerative energy- something she does on a regular basis- but when storing energy in surplus, she becomes notably more stronger than usual.

Likes:
- Tea. Her favorite is mint.
- Smoking.
- Violence.
- Violent people.

Dislikes:
- Attitude. Epsilon believes in common courtesy.
- Cruelty towards the defenseless. While Epsilon is always up for a good, bloody fight, picking on the weak or pacifistic is something she highly disapproves of.
- Fancy cocktails.

Family: If she has any, Epsilon never goes out of her way to contact them.

Friends: OPEN

Sentimental Attachment: Her jacket, maybe.

Weapon: Usually her claws, although it’s not uncommon to see her taking up other weapons when the opportunity presents itself. Axes, mostly.

”Himself”