Savior Powermaker {D9} {Done}

{ Savior Powermaker

{ District 9
{ Sixteen
{ Female

{ appearance

At first glance, Savior Powermaker is not the sort of person you would be drawn to based on appearances. Normally, she is buried under a layer of soot and ash from her hours spent in front of the furnace as a glassblower, but when the grime is washed away, Savvy is actually quite pale — not pale enough to freckle, but light enough to stand out against the black metals of her workplace. Her neck is dotted with a single mole, located right over her jugular, as if it were a target daring someone to try anything.

On closer inspection, however, Savvy looks as strong as she believes she is. Powerful arms are the result of hefting bags of silica and sand around on a daily basis; taxing work and food that rarely exceeds the bare minimum lends itself to a lean, lithe build. However, the most obvious hints to Savior's dangerousness lie in her face. Her nose, slim and pointed, accentuates her high cheekbones, which look sharp enough to cut glass; her eyes, set beneath a low, often furrowed brow, give the impression of one who is calculating, who is cold.

{ personality

To say the least, Savior Powermaker thinks highly of herself. Her brushes with death as a small child have left her feeling invincible. When combined with the religious zealotry of her upbringing, this leaves her teetering between believing she is quite literally god's gift to the world and, more frighteningly, that she is god herself. After all, how else could she possibly survived the traumas of her childhood?

Fortunately — for the sake of her own social standing, as well as the comfort of others — Savior is subtle. Questioning her mortality and questioning the meaning of her existence are saved for the nights when the moonlight on her ceiling is more captivating than the back of her eyelids. During the day, Savvy rarely dwells on such things. Even after several conversations with her, she does not register as being unhinged, warped, or particularly unusual — save for the snark and the occasional bouts of nastiness, of course, although most chalk this up to her young life. Sad, isn't it? they always mutter to each other when they believe she is out of earshot. Tragic indeed.

Savior never asked for anyone's pity, and never would if it was offered to her. She despises it, and despises those who try to push such a weakness off onto her. Being — in her own mind — near invincible, Savvy detests feelings of frailty, fragility, feebleness. With them always bring feelings of shame. It was these attempts at pity by strangers that have caused Savior to put up a cheery front, a casual demeanor, so as to deflect them. As it turned out, wearing a false heart on her sleeve turned out to be the greatest armor she could wield. When interacting with people, Sav has learned to show them normal, in order to disguise the fact that she's anything but.

{ history

Although many of her childhood memories have been lost to time, Savior Powermaker will never forget the day that she received the first sign that she was invulnerable. Her parents were dangerously abnormal with their religious zealotry, and had at some point worked out that judgement was nigh. Fearing a world bathed in fire, they — along with a handful of fellow believers — held a gathering in the Powermakers' basement. Mr. Powermaker, in the time he spent working, had been a glassblower (as his daughter would later make her trade) and had created a set of beautiful glass chalices for the occasion. These were all filled with poison, and distributed to each member present.

At the time, Savvy was a bright-eyed six-year-old, not quite as solemn as one would expect a child to be under such circumstances. Her favorite bedtime stories were always the ones that her mother would whisper, detailing a landscape entrenched in fire, an evil beast with a sword and a net circling about, catching all of the sinful and flaying them alive, and how the good folk, the believers, would make it to their salvation. Even well on her way to adulthood, Savior still has dreams — not nightmares, but dreams — of strolling calmly through such an inferno as the master of the blaze.

The Powermakers — as any reasonable parent would do, what with doom impending — included their daughter in their ritualistic suicide. However, not being particularly well-versed in either physiology or chemistry, they provided her with the same dose of 'fire juice' as the rest of the adults present. It was enough so that, rather than dying, like the thirteen adults in the room did, Savior vomited the poison before it could do any substantial damage to her body. She lived, where men four times her size had died. Unsure of what to do, Savior waited upstairs for several days before a concerned neighbor came to check in on the household. She was taken in by a cousin of her mother's and his husband, and, compared to the twisted experiences of her young childhood, was given a fairly normal youth.

{ codeword
odair