Post by Luzia Gottschalk on May 17, 2018 23:05:33 GMT -4
Luzia Gottschalk
BASIC INFORMATION
Villain alias: The Painter
Player Name: Teki
Faceclaim/Series: Lottie Baskerville/Pandora Hearts
Age: 19 (Mar. 19th, Pisces)
Gender: Female
Affiliation: Villain
Height: 157.5 cm. (5'2")
Weight: 47 kg. (104 lbs)
Hair/Style: Naturally pink, usually kept somewhere between shoulder length or chest length.
Skin/Scars: Caucasian, closer to pale than not, filled with a lot of scars, many faded
Eyes: Oval and colored a natural ruby red, with concentric circles around her pupil
Notables: She, at least for the moment, has utterly flawless skin as a side effect of MARINE use, each and every blemish, scar, and even tattoos completely erased, leaving only perfect skin behind.
She, at least for the moment, has utterly flawless skin as a side effect of MARINE use, each and every blemish, scar, and even tattoos completely erased, leaving only perfect skin behind.
Player Name: Teki
Faceclaim/Series: Lottie Baskerville/Pandora Hearts
Age: 19 (Mar. 19th, Pisces)
Gender: Female
Affiliation: Villain
Height: 157.5 cm. (5'2")
Weight: 47 kg. (104 lbs)
Hair/Style: Naturally pink, usually kept somewhere between shoulder length or chest length.
Skin/Scars: Caucasian, closer to pale than not, filled with a lot of scars, many faded
Eyes: Oval and colored a natural ruby red, with concentric circles around her pupil
Notables: She, at least for the moment, has utterly flawless skin as a side effect of MARINE use, each and every blemish, scar, and even tattoos completely erased, leaving only perfect skin behind.
She, at least for the moment, has utterly flawless skin as a side effect of MARINE use, each and every blemish, scar, and even tattoos completely erased, leaving only perfect skin behind.
APPEARANCE AND PERSONALITY
Appearance:
Standing quite a bit at the short end of her age and sex, Luzia in general has a sense of smallness about her; her height and her body both tend towards thin and slender, a lack of nutition contributing to it as much as her body type, though thankfully, her chest is something of an exception, but even so, she has a general lack of fat and muscle. What muscle she does have, though, is actually rather fit due to her life of near-constant walking, running, and other stuff, so despite being on the edge between starved and thin, she's fit and physically experienced, as much as she can be, at least.
She has red eyes, which have a slight ring around the pupils, and general feminine features, with thin pink hair that most often grazes her shoulders that she usually keeps loose, which tends to be stringy, and frayed at the ends unless she got the chance to treat it. As far as dress, more often than not she tends to wear whatever is practical, or more accurately, what she can afford, which isn't much, though she still tries to find the best clothing she can, less often going for what's 'fashionable' and more what she aesthetically likes.
Her 'work outfit'... actually hasn't existed until recently, but she's been settling on a dress with a corset layered over it, thighhighs with garter straps, and most importantly, a cloak, which she prefers in red, but also has black. Her mask is a simple white domino mask, which is surprisingly sufficient to hide her identity, and can also be decorated however she likes.
POSITIVE
✔ Creative, tenacious, street smart, loyal, eager, passionate, expressive, people-pleasing, lives in the present
NEGATIVE
✖ Competitive, childish, selfish, psychopathic, sadistic, impulsive, uneducated, meek, hateful, vengeful, attention whore, labile, clingy
LIKES
✔ Neon signs, her quirk, rain, violence, blood, night, red, sour food, sandwiches, graffiti, narcotics, quirkers, art, hospitals
DISLIKES
✖ Day, non-neon light, being ignored, being alone, people better off than her, non-quirkers, her past, cars (esp. moving), not being able to create
Personality:
Luzia is a girl ruled by her emotions, barely contained even in the best of moments; fear and hatred are a part of her almost as much as her blood. Even in cases where she manages to forget about her anger and feel good, her emotions are so volatile that she can switch emotions at a drop of a hat, and then can just as easily switch to another one as her erratic mind recognizes or adjusts to someone or something else. In other words, her emotions are extremely flippant and very hard to control even under the best circumstances, reacting to almost every stimulus she runs into, hidden only by a learned meekness created to adapt to abuse and neglect. Her emotions are, in fact, often on the extreme end, to the point that one of her primary daily concerns are distractions from them, which is often through her art, or even more often through artificial means.
Almost as prevalent a trait as her emotions is the fact she almost completely matches the definition of a psychopath; years of abuse, neglect, and living alone as made her have some strong difficulty with social behavior - which is interesting contrast to her autophobia and her desire to please - and extreme difficulty with both empathy and remorse. Her experiences on the streets, surviving, have all but driven those two qualities out of her out of pure necessity, but when she's triggered and driven into an actual episode, she has absolutely none, to say nothing of her almost entire lack of inhibitions during such episodes.
Despite her literal psychopathy, the intensity of which varying, and despite years of her life punishing her for it, whether she acts like it or not, she desperately not only wants, but needs attention; she has developed a severe autophobia, and whether it is the police and the internet hating the Painter, or pleasing some crime lord she stumbled into the service of, she eats up the attention and does whatever she can to get more, the exact type of attention honestly not mattering. However, despite it being severely impaired, Luzia still has some amount of empathy, but this tends to manifest only towards people she has formed a bond with, and in some cases, whether or not whether it's true empathy, or simply worry for the change in attention, can be debated.
Still, while she can be cruel, sadistic, and quite horrifying, there is a far more pleasant side of her that can come out, even without the help of drugs. There is a still a sweet girl in her that can come out now and then, and even though it can take very careful steps to bring her out, she can be almost child-like and arguably pure in her her sweetness, her eagerness to please, and more than most things, her absolute adoration of her art or her own quirk, very proud of both when she's allowed to be. Even without those, she can genuinely be a good person, though her quickly-changing nature makes it difficult to find consistency in her sweeter moments.
While Luzia is veritably insane, between being violent, temperamental, and even a bit selfish, it is from her experiences on the street, where she had to fight and drift to survive, but most of all, keep her head down. Boldness is an easy way to get yourself beat down, one way or another, and while just about any attention is acceptable, attention where she didn't get hurt was preferable, so she learned to keep her head down, making a habit to inhibit herself and blend into the background, to pretend to be normal, because despite her autophobia, she feared pain and death even more.
All-in-all, Luzia's psyche can be described as "a vase that is constantly falling apart and being put back together with shitty glue"; in her better moments, it looks like it could truly be salvaged, but in her worst moments, when she lets go of her inhibitions, it's a miracle if it even resembles a psyche....
Standing quite a bit at the short end of her age and sex, Luzia in general has a sense of smallness about her; her height and her body both tend towards thin and slender, a lack of nutition contributing to it as much as her body type, though thankfully, her chest is something of an exception, but even so, she has a general lack of fat and muscle. What muscle she does have, though, is actually rather fit due to her life of near-constant walking, running, and other stuff, so despite being on the edge between starved and thin, she's fit and physically experienced, as much as she can be, at least.
She has red eyes, which have a slight ring around the pupils, and general feminine features, with thin pink hair that most often grazes her shoulders that she usually keeps loose, which tends to be stringy, and frayed at the ends unless she got the chance to treat it. As far as dress, more often than not she tends to wear whatever is practical, or more accurately, what she can afford, which isn't much, though she still tries to find the best clothing she can, less often going for what's 'fashionable' and more what she aesthetically likes.
Her 'work outfit'... actually hasn't existed until recently, but she's been settling on a dress with a corset layered over it, thighhighs with garter straps, and most importantly, a cloak, which she prefers in red, but also has black. Her mask is a simple white domino mask, which is surprisingly sufficient to hide her identity, and can also be decorated however she likes.
POSITIVE
✔ Creative, tenacious, street smart, loyal, eager, passionate, expressive, people-pleasing, lives in the present
NEGATIVE
✖ Competitive, childish, selfish, psychopathic, sadistic, impulsive, uneducated, meek, hateful, vengeful, attention whore, labile, clingy
LIKES
✔ Neon signs, her quirk, rain, violence, blood, night, red, sour food, sandwiches, graffiti, narcotics, quirkers, art, hospitals
DISLIKES
✖ Day, non-neon light, being ignored, being alone, people better off than her, non-quirkers, her past, cars (esp. moving), not being able to create
Personality:
Luzia is a girl ruled by her emotions, barely contained even in the best of moments; fear and hatred are a part of her almost as much as her blood. Even in cases where she manages to forget about her anger and feel good, her emotions are so volatile that she can switch emotions at a drop of a hat, and then can just as easily switch to another one as her erratic mind recognizes or adjusts to someone or something else. In other words, her emotions are extremely flippant and very hard to control even under the best circumstances, reacting to almost every stimulus she runs into, hidden only by a learned meekness created to adapt to abuse and neglect. Her emotions are, in fact, often on the extreme end, to the point that one of her primary daily concerns are distractions from them, which is often through her art, or even more often through artificial means.
Almost as prevalent a trait as her emotions is the fact she almost completely matches the definition of a psychopath; years of abuse, neglect, and living alone as made her have some strong difficulty with social behavior - which is interesting contrast to her autophobia and her desire to please - and extreme difficulty with both empathy and remorse. Her experiences on the streets, surviving, have all but driven those two qualities out of her out of pure necessity, but when she's triggered and driven into an actual episode, she has absolutely none, to say nothing of her almost entire lack of inhibitions during such episodes.
Despite her literal psychopathy, the intensity of which varying, and despite years of her life punishing her for it, whether she acts like it or not, she desperately not only wants, but needs attention; she has developed a severe autophobia, and whether it is the police and the internet hating the Painter, or pleasing some crime lord she stumbled into the service of, she eats up the attention and does whatever she can to get more, the exact type of attention honestly not mattering. However, despite it being severely impaired, Luzia still has some amount of empathy, but this tends to manifest only towards people she has formed a bond with, and in some cases, whether or not whether it's true empathy, or simply worry for the change in attention, can be debated.
Still, while she can be cruel, sadistic, and quite horrifying, there is a far more pleasant side of her that can come out, even without the help of drugs. There is a still a sweet girl in her that can come out now and then, and even though it can take very careful steps to bring her out, she can be almost child-like and arguably pure in her her sweetness, her eagerness to please, and more than most things, her absolute adoration of her art or her own quirk, very proud of both when she's allowed to be. Even without those, she can genuinely be a good person, though her quickly-changing nature makes it difficult to find consistency in her sweeter moments.
While Luzia is veritably insane, between being violent, temperamental, and even a bit selfish, it is from her experiences on the street, where she had to fight and drift to survive, but most of all, keep her head down. Boldness is an easy way to get yourself beat down, one way or another, and while just about any attention is acceptable, attention where she didn't get hurt was preferable, so she learned to keep her head down, making a habit to inhibit herself and blend into the background, to pretend to be normal, because despite her autophobia, she feared pain and death even more.
All-in-all, Luzia's psyche can be described as "a vase that is constantly falling apart and being put back together with shitty glue"; in her better moments, it looks like it could truly be salvaged, but in her worst moments, when she lets go of her inhibitions, it's a miracle if it even resembles a psyche....
HISTORY
Many people are born; they come into this world crying and screaming to grow, to learn, to adapt, to grow more complex as they are often raised by caring parents, guided through this strange world, pulled away from danger and pushed towards wonders.
Few can say they are reborn. When someone experiences rebirth, do their before-lives truly matter?
Luzia was born to two passionate, quirkless sandwich makers; in their home of Stuttgart, Germany, they owned a shop, one that was actually decently popular in the populous city. While not rich, they lived very comfortably, working hard as they personally fed customers, finding not only money but fulfillment and happiness. They ran the shop for years, long enough for their new daughter to grow up in it. Their daughter even worked there sometimes, simultaneously earning an allowance and helping her parents with their shop, usually with cleaning and washing dishes, of course, always talking about how she'll 'graduate' to making sausage and cutting meat with Daddy, and counting money and putting sandwiches together with Mommy.
But, in an unfortunate twist of fate, their shop suffered an infestation and had to be shut down. Despite this, though, their optimism didn't wane; they had more dreams than the shop. Her mother had always wanted to move to Japan, and the father, with his nose for business, figured there wasn't many German-style shops. Luzia was somewhat fearful, as all children are with the prospect of moving, but she was soon caught up in the mixture of dream fulfillment and the promise of new starts. They had the means to attempt it, so they gathered their things, hoped for some luck, and planned a flight to the country.
Their first day in Japan was, much to everyone's chagrin, jet lagged, something that Luzia made no effort to hide her complaints about in the way that only sick children could manage. The second day, though, they had recovered for the most part, thanks to her father being more used to jet lag and employing a couple tricks to minimize it (which made Luzia complain even more). It was a new day - or rather, night, thanks to their messed up circadian rhythms, but that did nothing for their optimism, and Luzia's parents decided to go to Musutafu to investigate some possible places they could set up their shop.
It was a longer drive in their rental car, but Luzia minded this a little bit less than the jetlag, entertaining herself with the streetlights reflecting off of the rain. She had little else to do with her parents busy discussing business in the front seats, but she had always liked night anyway, especially when it was raining. Luzia was almost nodding off, even, soothed by the sound and the sight of the rain....
...All it took was a single tire slipping. Luzia, a ten-year-old little girl, was suddenly woken up when their car violently turned, then her entire world went black when her face hit the back of her father's seat. She was knocked out for who knows how long, but eventually, she could open her eyes again... and when she did, her eyes went wide. Luzia sat and stared for hours, seeing nothing but red... more red than she had ever seen in her life. Half of the already-deep night was passed just by staring. But eventually, when the sky was slowly turning from black to gray, the rain long since stopping, Luzia looked away, finally noticing sounds. It was a struggle since the car was on its front bumper, but she managed to pull herself out of the car. As she climbed out of the ditch, she continued to stare blankly as she saw many cars surrounding her, most of them with flashing lights.
And her life only went downhill from there.
The later news outlets spared the gory details, but the headline 'Car Crash Kills Two' still caught a fair amount of eyes. Night made for poor driving conditions, even moreso with the fresh rain. It took all night before someone noticed the wreck, paramedics only arriving after an estimated six hours. Investigation went poorly as well; though Luzia was relatively unharmed on a physical level, the worst being a mild concussion, she could remember so little that she was almsot entirely unhelpful. Eventually investigators gave up entirely, hypothesizing that the trauma was so great that her mind had subconsciously suppressed the events, and settled for more mundane investigative tactics.
The question remained, what to do with Luzia... a little girl in a new country, her immigration visa now void due to her parents' death, too young to even work, with added trauma and no next of kin in her home country. For a time, Luzia was under the supervision of a government worker, temporarily continuing to live in the same hotel room. The worker, an idealistic young lady, did her best to try to engage Luzia, but found little success, further cementing the idea of trauma. After a week of this, a much older, more experienced government worker came in, helping Luzia gather her things. It was decided that she would be accepted into Japanese society and sent to an orphanage, or so the two girls were led to believe.
While Luzia sat in the car - this time in the front seat - watching the trees pass on yet another road, she had no idea that her presence in government databases was almost completely erased. All she knew was that, with all of the stuff she could carry, she was being taken to someone that would care for her. She had no feelings for this, simply accepting and numbly going whereever she was needed. This time, she was driven away from the city, finding herself at an old mansion that the adults called 'Saint Marta's.' She watched as one of the workers handed the government worker a briefcase, then let herself be escorted in.
Luzia's first night is Saint Marta's spelled the beinning of her troubles. She was shown to her room, pulled by her arm and shoved inside, and forced to pick the only one of four beds that didn't have someone's belongings in them. She was too scared and nervous to dare go out to the common area, instead opting to just lay in her bed all day.
But, even after two years, things didn't get better. Even on the first day, she found trouble, kids pushing her yelling at her in a language she didn't understand. It only got worse from there; the shoving, the yelling was always, always there, and the caretakers, they didn't do anything... or worse, they pushed her too! Luzia was in a strange country, in a strange house, with so many strange people, and she quickly learned that they all hated her! Every time she tried to respond to them, they laughed at her, every time she tried to stop them from pushing her, they beat her. Even when she finally started learning Japanese and understanding them, the hate never stopped.
This lasted for two years. Two. Whole. Years. Confusion never turned into understanding, it only turned to hate. Hope couldn't last, it was quickly stomped down and slowly, slowly suffocated. Even as she pushed herself against the walls and hid in the darkest corners, she learned how to hate all of these kids for hating her, hating the 'caretakers' who didn't do anything, or sometimes did things themselves! Finally, she learned a lesson, that she was alone here, and that wasn't ever going to change.
It wasn't long after that realization that everything came to a breaking point. So long... so much abandonment, so much ignoring, so much bullying... and she saw them in the corner of her eye while she was trying to play in the yard. Two boys that wanted to bully her more, two boys that wanted to make her life worse. They always did it, and she hated it. They shoved her face into the dirt, and finally, Luzia couldn't ignore them anymore. She isn't sure what happened, not even to this day, but after the flash of white was over, she was standing between the two boys, and there was red... there was blood everywhere... on the boys, on the ground... and all her. For a moment, as the anger faded, she felt relief... but then it started to dawn on her what exactly she did... and she gasped with fear. The caretakers would beat her if she spoke out of turn... what would they do when they saw this? For what felt like hours, she stood there, but soon enough she decided what she had to do: run.
And she ran. Away from the pain and the hate and the anger, from the bullies and the caretakers and the horrible food, leaving only fear in her wake. She never looked back, never realizing that the orphanage wiped her entire existence in their actions to hide the entire incident.
She ran until she she had somehow made it to Tokyo, and begin a new life, a life on the streets, and she fared little better here than she did in the orphanage, trading fear of bullying and hatred of her 'caretakers' for fear of where her next meal would be, and eventually, trading her hatred for a hatred of people. Life was absolute hell at first, but, in one of the only strokes of luck in her entire life, she managed to find someone that taught her a few things about living on the streets.
After that, living got easier... it never got easy, but it got easier. Sleeping in whatever place she could find, petty theft to get food or even money, and traveling through the entire city several times over until she had a map in her head, Luzia survived, but it was never good, not for long. Sometimes she would hit pay dirt, sometimes she would get lucky somehow, but those sweet moments never lasted for long, with most of her days going through the drudges of absolute poverty, more often associating with unsavory people than otherwise. Eventually, habits started forming, and her art, through drugs, and other things started to become distractions from a life she did not like.
All the while, as she dealt with dealers, roaming thugs, brushes with organized crime, and prosititutes, the anger and hatred she had at her life, herself grew and grew, festering and simmering inside of her until it started to boil. One night, in some nondescript alleyway of Tokyo, that flash of anger that made everything go into a blur happened again, and when she could control herself again; there was blood everywhere; on the person, on the ground, and on her.
Again she ran, but to her surprise, it was on the news... she was on the news! And it felt... wonderful. It felt like she actually existed for once, it felt like people were actually paying attention to her, even though no one knew what had happened. She knew, and they were talking about her; in her mind, that was perfect, it was everything. Eventually, it happened again; all the anger in her life b ottled up in her, and something finally made it explode, someone said the wrong thing to her at the wrong time.
And she realized that it wasn't just the attention she liked. She liked everything, the stabbing, the anger, the revenge, and more than most things, the blood. In those moments, she won, she had control, she could see lots and lots and her favorite color. It was amazing, it was incredible, it was arguably better than getting high! She followed this new, sweet high, and soon enough, the news was giving her a name, and calling her a serial killer... which was a pretty cool term, she thought.
They were calling her The Painter.
Few can say they are reborn. When someone experiences rebirth, do their before-lives truly matter?
Luzia was born to two passionate, quirkless sandwich makers; in their home of Stuttgart, Germany, they owned a shop, one that was actually decently popular in the populous city. While not rich, they lived very comfortably, working hard as they personally fed customers, finding not only money but fulfillment and happiness. They ran the shop for years, long enough for their new daughter to grow up in it. Their daughter even worked there sometimes, simultaneously earning an allowance and helping her parents with their shop, usually with cleaning and washing dishes, of course, always talking about how she'll 'graduate' to making sausage and cutting meat with Daddy, and counting money and putting sandwiches together with Mommy.
But, in an unfortunate twist of fate, their shop suffered an infestation and had to be shut down. Despite this, though, their optimism didn't wane; they had more dreams than the shop. Her mother had always wanted to move to Japan, and the father, with his nose for business, figured there wasn't many German-style shops. Luzia was somewhat fearful, as all children are with the prospect of moving, but she was soon caught up in the mixture of dream fulfillment and the promise of new starts. They had the means to attempt it, so they gathered their things, hoped for some luck, and planned a flight to the country.
Their first day in Japan was, much to everyone's chagrin, jet lagged, something that Luzia made no effort to hide her complaints about in the way that only sick children could manage. The second day, though, they had recovered for the most part, thanks to her father being more used to jet lag and employing a couple tricks to minimize it (which made Luzia complain even more). It was a new day - or rather, night, thanks to their messed up circadian rhythms, but that did nothing for their optimism, and Luzia's parents decided to go to Musutafu to investigate some possible places they could set up their shop.
It was a longer drive in their rental car, but Luzia minded this a little bit less than the jetlag, entertaining herself with the streetlights reflecting off of the rain. She had little else to do with her parents busy discussing business in the front seats, but she had always liked night anyway, especially when it was raining. Luzia was almost nodding off, even, soothed by the sound and the sight of the rain....
...All it took was a single tire slipping. Luzia, a ten-year-old little girl, was suddenly woken up when their car violently turned, then her entire world went black when her face hit the back of her father's seat. She was knocked out for who knows how long, but eventually, she could open her eyes again... and when she did, her eyes went wide. Luzia sat and stared for hours, seeing nothing but red... more red than she had ever seen in her life. Half of the already-deep night was passed just by staring. But eventually, when the sky was slowly turning from black to gray, the rain long since stopping, Luzia looked away, finally noticing sounds. It was a struggle since the car was on its front bumper, but she managed to pull herself out of the car. As she climbed out of the ditch, she continued to stare blankly as she saw many cars surrounding her, most of them with flashing lights.
And her life only went downhill from there.
The later news outlets spared the gory details, but the headline 'Car Crash Kills Two' still caught a fair amount of eyes. Night made for poor driving conditions, even moreso with the fresh rain. It took all night before someone noticed the wreck, paramedics only arriving after an estimated six hours. Investigation went poorly as well; though Luzia was relatively unharmed on a physical level, the worst being a mild concussion, she could remember so little that she was almsot entirely unhelpful. Eventually investigators gave up entirely, hypothesizing that the trauma was so great that her mind had subconsciously suppressed the events, and settled for more mundane investigative tactics.
The question remained, what to do with Luzia... a little girl in a new country, her immigration visa now void due to her parents' death, too young to even work, with added trauma and no next of kin in her home country. For a time, Luzia was under the supervision of a government worker, temporarily continuing to live in the same hotel room. The worker, an idealistic young lady, did her best to try to engage Luzia, but found little success, further cementing the idea of trauma. After a week of this, a much older, more experienced government worker came in, helping Luzia gather her things. It was decided that she would be accepted into Japanese society and sent to an orphanage, or so the two girls were led to believe.
While Luzia sat in the car - this time in the front seat - watching the trees pass on yet another road, she had no idea that her presence in government databases was almost completely erased. All she knew was that, with all of the stuff she could carry, she was being taken to someone that would care for her. She had no feelings for this, simply accepting and numbly going whereever she was needed. This time, she was driven away from the city, finding herself at an old mansion that the adults called 'Saint Marta's.' She watched as one of the workers handed the government worker a briefcase, then let herself be escorted in.
Luzia's first night is Saint Marta's spelled the beinning of her troubles. She was shown to her room, pulled by her arm and shoved inside, and forced to pick the only one of four beds that didn't have someone's belongings in them. She was too scared and nervous to dare go out to the common area, instead opting to just lay in her bed all day.
But, even after two years, things didn't get better. Even on the first day, she found trouble, kids pushing her yelling at her in a language she didn't understand. It only got worse from there; the shoving, the yelling was always, always there, and the caretakers, they didn't do anything... or worse, they pushed her too! Luzia was in a strange country, in a strange house, with so many strange people, and she quickly learned that they all hated her! Every time she tried to respond to them, they laughed at her, every time she tried to stop them from pushing her, they beat her. Even when she finally started learning Japanese and understanding them, the hate never stopped.
This lasted for two years. Two. Whole. Years. Confusion never turned into understanding, it only turned to hate. Hope couldn't last, it was quickly stomped down and slowly, slowly suffocated. Even as she pushed herself against the walls and hid in the darkest corners, she learned how to hate all of these kids for hating her, hating the 'caretakers' who didn't do anything, or sometimes did things themselves! Finally, she learned a lesson, that she was alone here, and that wasn't ever going to change.
It wasn't long after that realization that everything came to a breaking point. So long... so much abandonment, so much ignoring, so much bullying... and she saw them in the corner of her eye while she was trying to play in the yard. Two boys that wanted to bully her more, two boys that wanted to make her life worse. They always did it, and she hated it. They shoved her face into the dirt, and finally, Luzia couldn't ignore them anymore. She isn't sure what happened, not even to this day, but after the flash of white was over, she was standing between the two boys, and there was red... there was blood everywhere... on the boys, on the ground... and all her. For a moment, as the anger faded, she felt relief... but then it started to dawn on her what exactly she did... and she gasped with fear. The caretakers would beat her if she spoke out of turn... what would they do when they saw this? For what felt like hours, she stood there, but soon enough she decided what she had to do: run.
And she ran. Away from the pain and the hate and the anger, from the bullies and the caretakers and the horrible food, leaving only fear in her wake. She never looked back, never realizing that the orphanage wiped her entire existence in their actions to hide the entire incident.
She ran until she she had somehow made it to Tokyo, and begin a new life, a life on the streets, and she fared little better here than she did in the orphanage, trading fear of bullying and hatred of her 'caretakers' for fear of where her next meal would be, and eventually, trading her hatred for a hatred of people. Life was absolute hell at first, but, in one of the only strokes of luck in her entire life, she managed to find someone that taught her a few things about living on the streets.
After that, living got easier... it never got easy, but it got easier. Sleeping in whatever place she could find, petty theft to get food or even money, and traveling through the entire city several times over until she had a map in her head, Luzia survived, but it was never good, not for long. Sometimes she would hit pay dirt, sometimes she would get lucky somehow, but those sweet moments never lasted for long, with most of her days going through the drudges of absolute poverty, more often associating with unsavory people than otherwise. Eventually, habits started forming, and her art, through drugs, and other things started to become distractions from a life she did not like.
All the while, as she dealt with dealers, roaming thugs, brushes with organized crime, and prosititutes, the anger and hatred she had at her life, herself grew and grew, festering and simmering inside of her until it started to boil. One night, in some nondescript alleyway of Tokyo, that flash of anger that made everything go into a blur happened again, and when she could control herself again; there was blood everywhere; on the person, on the ground, and on her.
Again she ran, but to her surprise, it was on the news... she was on the news! And it felt... wonderful. It felt like she actually existed for once, it felt like people were actually paying attention to her, even though no one knew what had happened. She knew, and they were talking about her; in her mind, that was perfect, it was everything. Eventually, it happened again; all the anger in her life b ottled up in her, and something finally made it explode, someone said the wrong thing to her at the wrong time.
And she realized that it wasn't just the attention she liked. She liked everything, the stabbing, the anger, the revenge, and more than most things, the blood. In those moments, she won, she had control, she could see lots and lots and her favorite color. It was amazing, it was incredible, it was arguably better than getting high! She followed this new, sweet high, and soon enough, the news was giving her a name, and calling her a serial killer... which was a pretty cool term, she thought.
They were calling her The Painter.
