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Tall and fit, Zoe could be pretty if she tried. With her broad shoulders and short, dirty blonde hair she could appear to look like a male from behind, but her body is much slimmer then a males could be. Her legs are long and her arms are slim and somewhat thick. Her face is squarish, with large lips, a small nose, and round, gray eyes.[/center]
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Name:
Zoe Richards

Gender:
Female

Age:
Twenty (Before abduction.)

Scar/Tattoo:
A circular tattoo is dug straight into the palms of both her hands. The circle goes out in six lines, the first five going up her fingertips while the sixth follows down the underside of her arm, up to her shoulder. Within the circle is a triangle with two lines going through the center (The alchemical symbol for blood). The entire tattoo is a deep red, looking as if it were actually a scar dug into her skin.

Powers/Abilities:
Blood Manipulation - The ability to control her own blood. While it helps with closing and healing her wounds quicker, it can also be used as a weapon. Once her skin is cut and blood is able to flow, Zoe has the ability to use it as a projectile. The blood can be formed into either thin blades, small pellets, and thin spikes. The attacks depend on her mindset, however, and if Zoe is emotionally compromised or panicking, the attacks can go out of control or not work at all.

Personality:
Some say artists should be mellow, quiet, well-mannered. Not in this chick's case. A very independent soul, Zoe finds working on her own to be a bit easier. She is very hard-headed and ruthlessly sharp-tongued, and if there was something that she needs or wants, she would not hold back at trying to get it. Sharp-eyed, Zoe can notice even the slightest things if she's looking hard enough. Despite her somewhat cynical nature towards people, Zoe was surprisingly good at seeing through people's facades and would always know if she took her tongue lashing too far. The type of person to act before thinking, Zoe isn't the most intelligent person, but she liked to believe in the right thing before the smart thing in most situation. Underneath her tough act, though, Zoe can be nice and sensitive towards other's feelings.

In a new, unfamiliar land Zoe is a bit more thoughtful, a bit quieter, and much more jumpy. Her eyes wander over everything in sight, looking for clues or inspirations. Her squeamishness towards blood and gore is obviously a large obstacle the poor girl, but she's trying her best, coping, steeling her mind.

Bio:
Born to your average white, Christian, middle class, Virginian family, Zoe had a good life. Well fed, well maintained, the only flaw in her lovely little life was her lack of interest in her parents' interests. They wanted a doctor, a scientist, a historian, while Zoe found her calling to be art, specifically painting. They wanted her to go to college and Zoe wanted to live in a tent on the beach in California with no worries for school work after school was already over. Just your average white, middle class, Christian family arguments. At least, that was the case until Zoe decided to simply run away from it all. After she graduated high school, she got a one way ticket to L.A and cut her ties with the family.

California wasn't kind to her. Zoe found that she would have to work odd jobs to live in her simple one room apartment, and while her paintings did sell very well at shows and street corners it wasn't enough to live off of. And, to top it off, she was diagnosed with anemia at a recent doctor's visit. What a life. Until she met this one guy, a fellow artist, a guy with looks even someone as cold as her could fall for. He was nice, friendly, and got her art into an auction. Money began flowing, art began to take up more and more of her life, and the guy grew more and more heavenly each time she visited him.

But boys, boy are no good. Near the end of their first year together, he shattered her heart, claimed her art was his, and even managed to get a few dollars (well, that might be under exaggerated) out from her. With no second thought she left behind the city of L. A and moved to a quint town further up, near Simi Valley. It was a small town, nice and sweet. Kinder. The jobs were easier and people still bought her pieces. It helped mend those wounds. Everything was slower, nicer. Better. 

And then it was just black.

And then she woke up.

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