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“Once you’ve accepted your flaws, no one can use them against you.”
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✶ BASICS ✶-
full name / nickname(s)
Daria “Senna” Zaleski
gender / sexuality
Female, Demisexual
age / grade level
Seventeen, Eleventh Grade
occupation
None
physical appearance
When you hear the word Slavic, what do you think? Would it help if it was condensed to Poland? Blond hair and blue eyes, that’s the general aesthetic to the women of Poland. Some still see it as the perfect race derived from history, others have dark hair with dark eyes. Senna, was gifted with naturally blue and captivating eyes. Eyes with such a light iris, they were practically gray. While not an ideal blonde, hints and tones permeated through her roots or when she dyed it of course. The clandestine girl stands at a modest 5’2 and weighs about a buck 10 soaking wet. Her smooth porcelain skin in combination with her hair and her eyes, encapsulate her beauty. Classically beautiful, it’s hard for people not to turn heads when she enters the room. Her doe eyed look isn’t the only face she wears though. Beyond her looks, her fashion could be described as alternative yet chic. Whatever look she goes for she can pull off quite well.
Although you would never expect it, Senna is very good at hiding her imperfections. While not traditional imperfections like acne or tiny teeth, these were imperfections nonetheless. Scar tissue exists all along Senna’s spine and some parts of her scalp, of course hidden under layers of hair and clothes no one has really seen her scars. Beyond having a body riddled with scars and cuts, her most defining feature is a tattoo on the inside of her right wrist. She was branded with a random sequence of numbers to illustrate her case number during the outbreak. Senna has come to terms with the permanent number and wears it as a reminder and band of courage to help her remember life before. When anyone asks its meaning she says it’s her parent’s anniversary date.
Although you would never expect it, Senna is very good at hiding her imperfections. While not traditional imperfections like acne or tiny teeth, these were imperfections nonetheless. Scar tissue exists all along Senna’s spine and some parts of her scalp, of course hidden under layers of hair and clothes no one has really seen her scars. Beyond having a body riddled with scars and cuts, her most defining feature is a tattoo on the inside of her right wrist. She was branded with a random sequence of numbers to illustrate her case number during the outbreak. Senna has come to terms with the permanent number and wears it as a reminder and band of courage to help her remember life before. When anyone asks its meaning she says it’s her parent’s anniversary date.
-✶ IN DEPTH ✶
personality
There’s two sides to every coin, some rusted into obscurity. There was an image of just one side to Senna. The boisterous and overly extroverted girl that made friends with everyone and anyone. Senna was never one to be afraid of anything, whether it was dancing in the streets to her own music while everyone watched and laughed or the first one to jump out of their seat to speak in front of a sea of people. She was brave in that fact, fearless in the face of mystery and the unknown. Something that would be missed. Being quirky and high spirited in nature, had lent itself to being her strongest characteristics. Her naturally free spirited mind and charisma led to the attraction of others, had she been sentient enough, Senna could create her own congregation just by speaking. Living in the moment was all Senna was concerned with and the company of good people and great memories to cement her time on the constantly revolving planet. A maverick in every sense of the word.
A coin toss, so simple and yet the chances are always so tantalizing. After the incident however, Senna never liked her chances. The once cheerful and high spirited girl, cracked like a doll. The remnants of her glass castle have forged quite the opposite person. Senna was riddled with anxiety fueled by her inclusion of her new found post-traumatic stress disorder. Once brazen and unafraid of the unknown, turned to unease and flight as her primary response. Any form of confusion or unknown makes her flinch in fear. Control has become a large stipulation to her everyday life, if she has no control of the situation or herself she’ll panic and either become reclusive or lash out in terror. Being monotone and distant from others has become her primary self-defense. The fear of her abilities have suppressed any wish to come into direct contact with others or any foundations of trust. Life was safer for everyone if she wasn’t involved, a stranger in every sense of the word.
Like anyone else, she has good and bad days. An untethered storm really. For the most part Senna shows flavors of who she was before the incident for the most part. There are only a rare and few times her sanity slips or one of her triggers acts up and sends her spiraling into her darkness. It’s always quite the gamble with her, hopefully one day she’ll learn to control her darkness and use it as a conduit for her powers instead.
A coin toss, so simple and yet the chances are always so tantalizing. After the incident however, Senna never liked her chances. The once cheerful and high spirited girl, cracked like a doll. The remnants of her glass castle have forged quite the opposite person. Senna was riddled with anxiety fueled by her inclusion of her new found post-traumatic stress disorder. Once brazen and unafraid of the unknown, turned to unease and flight as her primary response. Any form of confusion or unknown makes her flinch in fear. Control has become a large stipulation to her everyday life, if she has no control of the situation or herself she’ll panic and either become reclusive or lash out in terror. Being monotone and distant from others has become her primary self-defense. The fear of her abilities have suppressed any wish to come into direct contact with others or any foundations of trust. Life was safer for everyone if she wasn’t involved, a stranger in every sense of the word.
Like anyone else, she has good and bad days. An untethered storm really. For the most part Senna shows flavors of who she was before the incident for the most part. There are only a rare and few times her sanity slips or one of her triggers acts up and sends her spiraling into her darkness. It’s always quite the gamble with her, hopefully one day she’ll learn to control her darkness and use it as a conduit for her powers instead.
superpower
They say superpowers are the reflection of one’s personality and spirit. Unfortunately, Senna wasn't gifted with anything as bright and colorful as rainbows or neon. Instead, the events that transpired had harvested and cultivated the negative feelings perpetuating from her that night to manifest her negative and dark emotions into her current power set.
Her first ability is her power negation, within a five meter radius of Senna’s being eveything becomes a dead zone for any other user with abilities. Having no understanding or control over the ability, the nullification zone only effects those who stay within proximity of Senna and her range.
Secondly her Darkness manipulation is sequestered since it can cause the most damage and pain. Senna can generate darkness from herself and project it forward to attack her enemies. For now she can form small projectiles in any form, but her true prowess lies in tendrils that she uses from short to medium range to compliment her negation powers.
Her first ability is her power negation, within a five meter radius of Senna’s being eveything becomes a dead zone for any other user with abilities. Having no understanding or control over the ability, the nullification zone only effects those who stay within proximity of Senna and her range.
Secondly her Darkness manipulation is sequestered since it can cause the most damage and pain. Senna can generate darkness from herself and project it forward to attack her enemies. For now she can form small projectiles in any form, but her true prowess lies in tendrils that she uses from short to medium range to compliment her negation powers.
backstory
As her appearance dictates, Senna was born to two Polish immigrants from Warsaw. To escape political unrest that had to deal with de-Stalinization after the war. And the road to socialism, which ultimately led to food riots and the eventual ousting of Gomulka. Her parents found sanctity in the confines of American soil. Like most immigrants fresh off the boat, their sights were set on the giant bronze statue of liberty which had the five boroughs in the horizon. Settling in Brooklyn, the couple found their new home. While her father went to work right away, her mother stayed home and cared for the house and sourced income from a side project that dealt with sowing and fabric. Eventually, the two had did as loving couples did and consummated their love constantly. As the decades shifted so did their line of work and living arrangement. Finally with years of wisdom under them, the couple gave birth to a beautiful radiant girl by the name of Daria Zaleski.
Daria led a rather normal life, filled with the love and affection every married couple could hope to give for their child. Daria was born special, her tastes growing up were rather diverse and eclectic. She would dance to her father’s polish folk songs as a child only to be bewitched by the sounds of old school jazz. Daria explored every avenue she could as a child, while she still had her unbridled reserves of youthful energy. Equestrian by the age of 9 to playing soccer in little league at the ripe age of 13, then of course the kiss of the spotlight from acting in drama at 16. Daria did it all and lived life to all of its potential, there was nothing she wasn’t curious to learn or experience. Daria absorbed the culture around her and that of cultures from other countries. Going into high school she picked Arabic as her third language to learn having already been bilingual in English and Polish. One day the name Sana stuck out to her, meaning “brilliance, radiance, splendor” in Arabic, having no middle name Daria adopted the moniker only in the form of Senna. That was the last day Daria would show any radiance.
The Virus, there was nothing like it. It tore through the streets like some rampant plague that was too close to a curse or punishment from God. At first it was only a few isolated outbreaks, there was nothing more than blissful ignorance and assurance the CDC would cure the proverbial disease, despite the death of the prom queen Miranda Shifflett. The timeline had other plans and raged onward, a name, something to attribute the calamity: The Barracuda Virus. Everything transpired so quickly, even Senna was pulled from school by her parents. The girl with no fear who knew no worry saw the fear that riddled the eyes of her parents. They were buying into the fear, the anger that made good people turn bad. Calls were made to Poland, the motherland. Should they move back to Warsaw? They already had their whole lives sunk into America, how could they just uproot their lives to move back? There was also a chance that the virus had already spread to other countries. Senna tried to keep the household upbeat and warm, yet her parents became shells of their former selves. They hardly acknowledged Senna’s presence as they were more focused on packing and listening to the news while keeping surveillance on their neighbors.
Day after day gave way to higher body counts, people were dropping by the dozens. The public was growing weary with unrest, when suddenly the first form of a silver lining, a survivor with an immunity gene. The flame of hope was quickly extinguished, what’s more was the virus was becoming increasingly powerful with no rhyme or reason to why it spread. Eventually, the virus worked its cold stringent hands into the crevices and cracks of the Zaleski household. The paranoid euphoria only expedited the virus that attacked their immune systems savagely. The first stage of grief was denial, her parents quickly attributed their flu like systems to just that, the flu. Somehow, Daria was unaffected and saw as her venerable parents that had raised her so highly, crashed down like foreigners cast out of God’s heaven. It didn’t take long for their flu to turn into the telltale signs of the virus, with bouts of vomiting and skin lesions, yet nothing attributed to Daria. The next stage, Anger. With their condition only getting worse the virus seemed to attack their brains. Daria remained unchanged because she had the resistant gene, this meant she had held out on them. In their mind, Daria wasn’t returning the gift of life they gave Daria.
In a hysteria the couple took Daria as she slept and brought her to what seemed to be a quarantined lab controlled by the CDC. Unwillingly and bewildered Daria was nothing but confused and stricken with fear as she was quickly stripped of clothes and identity. Her rights had been surrendered as a human, she was just a test subject with a number on her arm. A room with a singular window became her house, the only people she would see were her parents on the other side and men in white. Standard health assessments became more and more amoral. Eventually tests turned to torture, a halo placed on her head as they drilled into her skull, needles stabbed into her spine while fluid was taken to be tested, every night always ended the same, unconsciousness. With no sign of any cure and their lesions growing in size and severity, what little human empathy left residing inside led to the next stage, bargaining. Before another routine ‘test’ her parents stormed the room to bargain for her release in exchange for all the medical research they had cultivated. If they were to die, they would at least guarantee Daria would live.
Lucid from the halt of anesthesia pouring into her veins, the foggy apparitions of her parents and the CDC doctors played in her mind. The volume got louder until things turned physical, her vision became sharper and came into focus. “Nooo!” she yelled with her hand outstretched as men in black appeared out of the shadows and robotically shot bullets into the skulls of her diseased parents who had been in an altercation with the doctors. Daria’s powers activated with her sudden surge of emotional duress. Tendrils of darkness exploded from all around her and enveloped the entire room in black. Bullets deflected off tendrils that seemed to grow out of Daria’s naked spine, power had shifted hands. The guards and doctors knew the fear that Daria had undergone these past few weeks, the most subtle hint of movement alerted the tendrils, causing them to strike like a snake. Some doctors were dealt grace by having a tendril pierce their chests. Others had tendrils pierce their mouths, suffocating them as they dug deeper into the body. The guards were thrown against the walls like ragdolls until the only other color than black was red. Daria rose from the cold table and ripped the tubes from her body and simply walked out of the facility leaving carnage in her wake before collapsing somewhere with nothing but a hospital gown on.
Daria woke up shortly after and went into hiding, the memory of the past few weeks finally rooting themselves firmly into her mind. Experiencing her own stages of grief, Daria went into hiding until the virus had cooled over and schools reopened. Finally able to stand on her own two feet, Daria decided to go back to school and enroll in Midwood High under the alias of Senna and the masquerade of a new hair color.
Daria led a rather normal life, filled with the love and affection every married couple could hope to give for their child. Daria was born special, her tastes growing up were rather diverse and eclectic. She would dance to her father’s polish folk songs as a child only to be bewitched by the sounds of old school jazz. Daria explored every avenue she could as a child, while she still had her unbridled reserves of youthful energy. Equestrian by the age of 9 to playing soccer in little league at the ripe age of 13, then of course the kiss of the spotlight from acting in drama at 16. Daria did it all and lived life to all of its potential, there was nothing she wasn’t curious to learn or experience. Daria absorbed the culture around her and that of cultures from other countries. Going into high school she picked Arabic as her third language to learn having already been bilingual in English and Polish. One day the name Sana stuck out to her, meaning “brilliance, radiance, splendor” in Arabic, having no middle name Daria adopted the moniker only in the form of Senna. That was the last day Daria would show any radiance.
The Virus, there was nothing like it. It tore through the streets like some rampant plague that was too close to a curse or punishment from God. At first it was only a few isolated outbreaks, there was nothing more than blissful ignorance and assurance the CDC would cure the proverbial disease, despite the death of the prom queen Miranda Shifflett. The timeline had other plans and raged onward, a name, something to attribute the calamity: The Barracuda Virus. Everything transpired so quickly, even Senna was pulled from school by her parents. The girl with no fear who knew no worry saw the fear that riddled the eyes of her parents. They were buying into the fear, the anger that made good people turn bad. Calls were made to Poland, the motherland. Should they move back to Warsaw? They already had their whole lives sunk into America, how could they just uproot their lives to move back? There was also a chance that the virus had already spread to other countries. Senna tried to keep the household upbeat and warm, yet her parents became shells of their former selves. They hardly acknowledged Senna’s presence as they were more focused on packing and listening to the news while keeping surveillance on their neighbors.
Day after day gave way to higher body counts, people were dropping by the dozens. The public was growing weary with unrest, when suddenly the first form of a silver lining, a survivor with an immunity gene. The flame of hope was quickly extinguished, what’s more was the virus was becoming increasingly powerful with no rhyme or reason to why it spread. Eventually, the virus worked its cold stringent hands into the crevices and cracks of the Zaleski household. The paranoid euphoria only expedited the virus that attacked their immune systems savagely. The first stage of grief was denial, her parents quickly attributed their flu like systems to just that, the flu. Somehow, Daria was unaffected and saw as her venerable parents that had raised her so highly, crashed down like foreigners cast out of God’s heaven. It didn’t take long for their flu to turn into the telltale signs of the virus, with bouts of vomiting and skin lesions, yet nothing attributed to Daria. The next stage, Anger. With their condition only getting worse the virus seemed to attack their brains. Daria remained unchanged because she had the resistant gene, this meant she had held out on them. In their mind, Daria wasn’t returning the gift of life they gave Daria.
In a hysteria the couple took Daria as she slept and brought her to what seemed to be a quarantined lab controlled by the CDC. Unwillingly and bewildered Daria was nothing but confused and stricken with fear as she was quickly stripped of clothes and identity. Her rights had been surrendered as a human, she was just a test subject with a number on her arm. A room with a singular window became her house, the only people she would see were her parents on the other side and men in white. Standard health assessments became more and more amoral. Eventually tests turned to torture, a halo placed on her head as they drilled into her skull, needles stabbed into her spine while fluid was taken to be tested, every night always ended the same, unconsciousness. With no sign of any cure and their lesions growing in size and severity, what little human empathy left residing inside led to the next stage, bargaining. Before another routine ‘test’ her parents stormed the room to bargain for her release in exchange for all the medical research they had cultivated. If they were to die, they would at least guarantee Daria would live.
Lucid from the halt of anesthesia pouring into her veins, the foggy apparitions of her parents and the CDC doctors played in her mind. The volume got louder until things turned physical, her vision became sharper and came into focus. “Nooo!” she yelled with her hand outstretched as men in black appeared out of the shadows and robotically shot bullets into the skulls of her diseased parents who had been in an altercation with the doctors. Daria’s powers activated with her sudden surge of emotional duress. Tendrils of darkness exploded from all around her and enveloped the entire room in black. Bullets deflected off tendrils that seemed to grow out of Daria’s naked spine, power had shifted hands. The guards and doctors knew the fear that Daria had undergone these past few weeks, the most subtle hint of movement alerted the tendrils, causing them to strike like a snake. Some doctors were dealt grace by having a tendril pierce their chests. Others had tendrils pierce their mouths, suffocating them as they dug deeper into the body. The guards were thrown against the walls like ragdolls until the only other color than black was red. Daria rose from the cold table and ripped the tubes from her body and simply walked out of the facility leaving carnage in her wake before collapsing somewhere with nothing but a hospital gown on.
Daria woke up shortly after and went into hiding, the memory of the past few weeks finally rooting themselves firmly into her mind. Experiencing her own stages of grief, Daria went into hiding until the virus had cooled over and schools reopened. Finally able to stand on her own two feet, Daria decided to go back to school and enroll in Midwood High under the alias of Senna and the masquerade of a new hair color.
✶ THE SURFACE ✶-
extracurricular activities
Senna spends most of her time being a wallflower now, idly hanging around the rooms of clubs she used to frequent like a lost soul. Senna usually spends most of her time people watching and hanging out atop the local water tower.
supporting cast
Piotr Zaleski | Father, Deceased
Joana Zaleski | Mother, Deceased
Joana Zaleski | Mother, Deceased
other
