[hider=Knife-slinger Lucya]
[list][*][color=orange][b]Name:[/b][/color] Lucya Kubyshkin
[*][color=orange][b]Age:[/b][/color] 22
[*][color=orange][b]Race:[/b][/color] Human
[*][color=orange][b]Appearance:[/b][/color] [url=https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Ek3sfwXXYAMTfqC?format=jpg&name=4096x4096]Lucya[/url] is a slender young woman in good shape, more on the pale side, with croppy, vibrant red hair kept short except for a long, thin ponytail. Hey gray eyes lack luster, and she bears diamond-shaped marks beneath them. Her narrow, upturned eyebrows give her a perennially perturbed look, particularly when paired with her sour resting face. Her normal outfit is a rather gaudy performer's outfit, a rigid striped shirt plus striped socks, a magenta jacket with coattails and matching tights. A hairband with a miniature top hat would complete the ensemble if she hadn't discarded it. However, this outfit is damaged and dirty, as well as conspicuous, and since then she's been wearing a loose white cotton collared shirt, black hose, and a gray wool [url=https://images.beautifulhalo.com/images/392x588/201611/E/women-s-oversize-high-rise-plaid-pleated-wool-mini-skirt_1479724768899.jpg]skirt[/url] with matching [url=https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/71qoDTCaG4L._AC_UY445_.jpg]arm warmers[/url]
[*][color=orange][b]Personality:[/b][/color] In a word, pragmatic. Lucya isn't particularly outgoing, accommodating, or friendly, although she's talkative enough in that she's quick with a biting remark or sarcastic quip with just about anyone. She's quick to think less of others and put them down, without caring much about their individual circumstances and histories. In her eyes, everyone's suffering in some form or another, and the world is a dangerous place where everyone is struggling to survive. 

She believes that the population is split between swimmers and sinkers—between people with the inner strength to tackle their problems themselves, and those who accept the role of victim, bemoaning the hand fate dealt them and unable to take charge of their own lives. She has nothing but contempt for people who complain, blame, and deny, who take the easy routes and spurn decisions. Conversely, she has some respect for people who are competent and willful, who know what needs to happen and resolve to get it done, even if they don't make much progress. 

In this dangerous world, she expects everyone to fight to survive and better themselves, so anything done in pursuit of that is fair and understandable. To that end, she doesn't turn away from bloodshed or deceit, although she avoids needless violence or unpleasantness beyond her typical needling. Though typically bitter and prickly, she has a soft spot for humor, goofiness, and dumb fun. Just as there are sinkers and swimmers, there are those who laugh and those who are laughed at; anyone who can pull a genuine laugh from her is bound for a warmer reception. Those she comes to view as cohorts become as close to friends as Lucya can have, and to them she is loyal.

[*][color=orange][b]History:[/b][/color] Growing up in a poor village in the frigid north, Lucya learned from a young age that survival mattered first and foremost. The peasantry of the fiefdom in which she lived labored short days and long nights, fishing the rivers and lakes, hunting in the woods, and working with lumber. They strove to meet the rigid quota imposed by the local lord. Although life was tough, thanks to the collective, the people lived on. United by the wisdom of the elder, everyone was expected to work together to support the whole, to give what excess they had to those in need, to prop up the older generation and teach the next. And Lucya hated it. Something inside her broiled at the reality of toiling away her life doing what she was told, never doing anything for herself or being anything herself, existing as nothing more than one of many shells animated by the collective will. She wanted nobody depending on her, and to depend on nobody. At first this manifested as nothing more than a rebellious spirit, one punished often and harshly by her parents and the villagers, but over the years Lucya listened to many travelers and visited other villages and towns whenever she could. The stories she heard filled her with visions of places where people carved out their own destinies, attaining greatness thanks to their own efforts and rising above the rest. Lucya began to long to stand above others, for people to look at her with admiration and jealousy, and she started looking for a way out.

Eventually, her chance came. Word reached her village of a traveling circus come to the land at the behest of the local lord, to bring a spark in the weary and dull lives of the peasants and keep them more or less satisfied—the Picarin Troupe. When her request to attend was denied, Lucya went anyway. What she saw that night amazed her, astounding her with sights and sounds she would never have envisioned in her wildest dreams, and she made her decision. As the show concluded, she approached the Ringmaster, and demanded that she be allowed to join. Beholding the ragged, skinny girl, the Ringmaster was amused, and asked what she could do for him. “Anything!” she insisted. “I'll do anything you ask.”

A few villagers, family members included, arrived. They condemned her for her impudence. “Stop this nonsense at once!” the elder scolded, grabbing hold of the petulant child. “We are terribly sorry, sir. This brat has always refused to accept her place. She'll be punished severely.”

Still smiling, the Ringmaster seemed to understand, and kept his eyes on Lucya. “Anything, was it? To escape this grave that's been dug for you?” There was a glimmer of steel as he tossed something on the ground. “Show me.”

Lucya seized the knife and drove it into the leg of the elder. As he howled on the ground, she looked to the Ringmaster, who nodded his head. As horrified faces looked on, she stood over the man who'd failed to crush her and plunged her blade through his ribs. That night, she left her old existence behind to travel with the Picarin Troupe. It didn't take much for her to realize that the whole troupe wore the same innocuous mask that their master did, hiding a ruthless side underneath. She found herself in a company of wolves in a world of sheep, a world where a sucker was born every minute and the clever could live like kings. Yet Lucya felt as if she truly belonged. The Picarin Troupe had saved her, after all, from her hollow existence, and it harbored nothing but people who strove to make themselves greater through their own cleverness, strength, and will. In her time with them Lucya grew into the roll of the knife-thrower, whose precision and sleight of hand stunned the crowd. The previous knife-thrower taught her the magic she needed to make her act truly remarkable—a sorcery that served her in back alleys and on clouded nights as well. Money changed hands behind the scenes, the illustrious Picarin Troupe traveled far and wide, and -whether targeted or not- misfortune seemed to follow in its wake.

Yet, for all the ways in which her life improved after joining the Picarin Troupe, an undercurrent of dissatisfaction remained for Lucya. She possessed agency of her own, tantalizingly close to true freedom, but at the end of the day she heeded the commands of the veteran players, especially the Ringmaster. Like an assassin Lucya saw violence and cruelty pragmatically, as a means to an end to be used when necessary, but many of her peers saw it as the end—going beyond the missions assigned by the Ringmaster and reveling in the feeling itself of bringing misery and destruction to others. If the Ringmaster was a cunning devil, the carnies were his demons. Lucya knew she kept poor company, but could scarcely call herself better than any of them, and so remained. Worst of all was the Beastmaster, a bearded brute whose dark arts spawned creatures that shocked and fascinated the crowd or ransacked homes in the dead of night. Though the two butted heads since Lucya first joined, their rivalry came to a head over the Beastmaster's butchery of a political target's whole family. The Beastmaster reasoned as ever that anyone who couldn't either escape or fight back didn't deserve to live, and in him Lucya saw a darker reflection of her own philosophy. “If that's what you think, let's see how it suits you!” Lucya declared, and attacked. With other carnies looking on, the two went back and forth in an intense, vicious brawl. Though Lucya dealt him some grievous wounds, and killed many of his creatures, she was badly hurt. She had to choose between her pride and her life, and in bitter tears she ran away. When the carnies made to pursue, the Ringmaster bade them stand down. “We will see her again,” he murmured. “Though her body may go forth, her soul is here with us. She will never be free.”

It's been only two weeks since then, and although Lucya's more or less recovered, she's become adrift on the run in an unfamiliar world. However despicable, the Troupe had become her family, and without it she is aimless, spending each day barely getting by, trying to get the visions of a crimson circus out of her head.

[*][color=orange][b]Abilities/Skills[/b]:[/color] Lucya is nimble and acrobatic, a quick sprinter and great jumper, agile and elusive in combat or on the run. Her quick hands boast impressive dexterity, and that plus her perceptive eyes and practiced muscles give her pretty good precision. Fairly streetwise, she's got a good head for getting by in a civilized environment, and if need be she's not a bad thief. Although not a veteran fighter, or indeed a properly trained one she's skilled with her weapon and fighting style of choice, that being knife-slinging. When obliged to fight, she stays mobile outside of her foe's effective range, throwing knives until she can swoop in for a kill. 

She wields a simple strain of magic honed during her time at the circus, which her forebear dubbed Knife Trick. She can make knives disappear with sleight of hand, storing them, and then resummon them as if from nothing. Not just a parlor trick for pulling knives from her ear, Knife Trick is a deadly gimmick in combat, allowing her to shoot them out. Additionally, she can control knives within a couple feet of her, allowing her to throw them in weird ways or float around her for defense or offense. In total she has over a hundred knives, most of them of similar and unremarkable make, but a few unique. 
[*][color=orange][b]Other[/b]:[/color] As with other backstory elements, its possible -at the GM's discretion- that the Picarin Troupe, a dark circus traveling the land performing nefarious acts in secret, may appear in the story.[/list] 
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