Name: Kizlu
Gender: Female
Age: Unknown
DOB: October 31st
Height: 5'9
Weight: Unknown
Hair: Ebony
Eyes: Clouded grey/blue
Rank: Cadet

Role: Stealth military. Information gathering, assassination.
Special Talent(s): Is extremely adept at moving through cities completely unseen.
Previous Occupation: Zombie.
Motives: A deep desire for change, to break the image of what is a very strict guideline on how people of the community should act and look. She has always been considered a monster, and she craves redemption through modification.

Kizlu is a very beautiful girl who has simply been ravaged by misfortune. Her hair is long and shiny but often left messy due to lack of care. She often scavenges for new clothes to wear, but always prefers a short dress, stockings and boots as they are the most functional and comfortable for her.
She has rather large chunks of flesh that are roughly stitched together simply as they've decomposed over time, and clouded bluey grey eyes.

Personality: Kizlu switches between two forms of herself fairly regularly, but only when she becomes too hungry to control her own basic instincts. However, she is also repulsed by her need for flesh and can often become very emotionally unstable.
Otherwise, she is decently intelligent and has seen a long life time. Her life style has left her bitter, yet loyal, and has provided her with an unshakable commitment to the cause for positive change.

Interactions: Being a zombie, it's not surprising to know that most revolutionaries prefer not to work with Kizlu. Instead she is often forced to take a more solitary role, though this only makes her more determined to see the revolution succeed. Every mission she takes part in is seen as an opportunity to prove herself.

Once a beautiful Neovian lady, Kizlu was killed during the plague that swept over her time. Many lost their lives to the illness, but it's havoc eventually ceased and the city was left to deal with its ruin.

However, Kizlu's restless spirit was not allowed to be at peace, and she was brought back by the dark magic of a Necromancer. The time in the grave had changed her mind and appearance. The sapphire eyes that could once catch the heart of all who saw them, now remained clouded and lifeless. Her clear skin that came from a lifetime of good health and fortune, was now torn and required stitches to keep together.

Still, He helped restore her body all that he could, all in the foolish desire to convince her of his love and adoration for her.

Kizlu remained on the brink of death, weakened and starved, and for all his efforts the Necromancer could not get Kizlu to eat or heal. He created everything he could think of, but Kizlu would not accept it. One day he was preparing up some new fruits to be offered to her when the blade cut his finger, the blood spilling into some of the juices.
Kizlu ate for the first time that night.


The necromancer offered her the same fruit again, and she would not take it. It was only then that he became wise to her need for blood. So desperate was he to win her love, that he started to bring her flesh, from animals, his other patients, and occasionally his own blood, all to which Kizlu ate and became healthier.
However as she improved, the Necromancer's dedication faltered. Through all his sacrifices and efforts to her, he still did not believe that Kizlu felt any love for him. He locked her away in the basement of his laboratory and ceased bringing her food, deciding that he would find a spell to return her to the grave, unable to kill her himself for she was still far too beautiful.

But Kizlu had grown too strong. The blood and flesh she had ingested only seemed to give her more strength, and an overwhelming desire for more. She broke out of her chains that night, and the Necromancer was never seen again.

She wonders now, through forests and cities aware of the betrayal that man kind can bring. As time as passed, she has regained her control and has tried to move on from her horrible past, however she can never hide her scars and tainted colours of flesh.
Shunned from all society, she vows to make a change and find herself a new home. To make a revolution that will stop the fear, the hatred..
to make a place and purpose for herself again.

While her mind has returned, her body remains changed forever.
She hunts for flesh on her own at night, when her scars and different colours of skin are invisible to the eye, and she can coax those who cant resist her beauty to their doom-
and to her dinner.

Mission 2

I.

The stones of the city walls still glistened slightly, and the pavement on the road was still freshly littered with small pools of water that had gathered from the fading night rain. Droplets of water clung to the glass of the street lamps, desperate not to fall and be lost within the light fog that was drifting through the streets.

Kizlu was no stranger to these deserted alleyways at night, and walked slowly over the damp concrete as not to create much noise. Settling herself behind her usual dark corner, she waited. Her hunger drove her here, to this much-avoided part of town. The Community patrols came here regularly and provided the only meal she could take without too much guilt.
True, she was a killer, but it was because of them that she was banished from the city and left to evolve into what she was.

They should have done something. They should have helped me.
I was one of them and they turned me away!

If rage could be food, she'd never need to eat. If frustration and despair could only repair her body…
There was no time for these thoughts. A guard was strolling through the street, hitting his nightstick against the street lamps as he passed them. It was to make people aware of his presence, of the Community's presence. That dull thud was one that resonated with the threat that it would be you getting struck instead of the lamp if you were found here at night.

Kizlu waited. And waited. And waited.
The guard walked slowly and timing is important. She fell back into the corner's shadow as he came to pass her, oblivious to her presence. Bowing her head, she let her long black hair fall over her face, hiding the greenish hue of her skin from the light of the moon and lights. Hiding and stealth were no problems for her, but the attack…

Wait for it…
Wait..

It was all in a second, this flash of green. Kizlu's tail darting out to steal the arm holding the nightstick while her arms grabbed the guard and pulled him into the alley. She tried to pull him deeper, attempted to cover his mouth… but she under estimated his resistance.
It was all in a second, a flash of black.
The guard had gotten his hand free and had struck her down with the nightstick.

What ARE you?! You fiend, how dare you come near normal people! A mutation, that's all you are! You'll be put to death and returned to where you belong!

ALERT! ALERT! A MONSTER!

He ran screaming for help in the direction of the town center, and the defeated Kizlu was left to scramble for her life.

II.

Had she been too hungry? Weak? Had she simply grown arrogant and not taken the proper precautions?
Her vision was spinning and her head throbbed without mercy. This was new to her, the sensation of panic. She stumbled through alleyways moving further from the town, the noise she made didn't matter and she staggered through puddles without care. She needed to run but her head felt too heavy.

ALERT! ALERT!

The light was growing from behind her, darting across the raindrops and reaching closer to her trail. Between her damaged vision and the pain distorting her movement, it was hard to find the exit.

Out. Out. Where is the way?
How dare you come near normal people

It was a violent strike to her heart that made her stop in the middle of the road.
It was not her pain that was slowing her down. It was simply impossible to carry so many burdens and so much anguish. It was defeat, the cold feeling sinking her feet into the ground. Part of her wanted to be captured, just to have the running be over.
It took everything in her to slip off of the road and into the closest alley. Curling beside a bin she could only listen as the town prepared to ward off their monster.

A monster.
A mutation, that's all you are!
But it's not my fault.
What choice did I have?
I'm still a person. You made me your enemy.

How quickly despair turns to rage, an uncontrollable desire to fight for redemption. The hunger within her was rising now, the need for blood and flesh and revenge. It was savage, unremorseful. Her death would not come without her fury.
She opened her eyes with a newfound destructive wish, but what she saw stole the thoughts from her mind.
A large red message was sprayed across the bricks in front of her, but it was something more than just vandalism.
These words…

ALERT! ALERT!

She reached out and touched the still wet paint, which hadn't yet dried due to the damp weather. It was still relatively fresh, obviously. There was no way the community would allow such a message to remain here for long.

The person who did it would—
The person who did it? But… Who did this?

III.

It was a fire that sparked within her. A single ember that single handedly destroyed the shadows in her heart. It was a bullet. A sword. No, it was more than a weapon. It was a fighting chance.
The words echoed within her again and again, growing louder in her head as the light from the town drew near. It became an internal drum, beating faster and harder.
The meaning, she was lost in the meaning.

You'll be put to death and returned to where you belong!
Where I belong…

She smudged the red paint from her hand across her cheek, a crude war stripe but a significant one.
Stepping out from the alley the mob of guards was more than visible in their fast approach, torches high and weapons blazing. She threw her hair back, the red paint vibrant in the light from their fires. She wanted them to see it, the red that would mean nothing to any one except to her and those like her. To her allies she might never know.
What a color can represent to those who are willing to give it a meaning.
To those who are willing to fight for it.

But for her, it was almost like finding her voice for the very first time.

For freedom. For change. For redemption.
Viva La Revolution