Name:  Summer Lily.
Rank:   Deathless Dirt Eater (Sergeant).
Cereal: Lucky Charms.
Age:   A lot.  Appears ~30 Years Old.
Gender:      Female.
Has Dick?    Yes.
Orientation:   Pansexual.
Disposition:    Disrespectful.
Alignment:    Lawful Lazy.


A buxom soldier for a holy cause, whose career led her to the love of her unlife but also got her killed.  Like, a lot.  If only all that drinking hadn't gone right to her chest.  Hopefully her figure serves her better in a land where the fit of one's breastplate doesn't decide whether Lily sees another tomorrow.

Maybe she'll even wear a dress?  Who knows!  It's retirement time, and where once lived in her palm a mortal's blooded and rusty spatha, now was the sole territory of a particular bottle of delightfully cheap spirits, the origin of which Lily would not, could not, possibly reveal.  Don't knock the drink until the drink knocks you! ..and all that rot.

It's possible there is more than meets the eye to this newly-minted immortal.  But maybe not.  She's too busy chuckling into her drink to signal either way.




                       Origin.

She remembered surprise, as something red besides cheap wine came back up, spattering across her lips to the abrupt harsh cough that overtook her.  It was cold before the terrible pain, she remembered that too, and cold after..  She remembered surprise at her own surprise, knowing full well how illustrious non-commissioned careers like hers had a habit of suddenly ending.  A fine career of fine fighting, if she said so herself- which she did- a fine career indeed.. only to conclude sat sideways up against an unkindly rough stone in the middle of a slim stretch of godforsaken nowhere.. not that the rock uncomfortably set between her shoulder blades caused her much care.  Not with the feathered shaft stuck out under her left arm the way it was, right where the chain ended in soft leather, and set deep.  It was a fine shot, not that it would change things.  She would see the bastard as took it on the other side soon enough, and she'd tell him, "Fine shot."  She'd tell him, "and go f--


Lily still remembered the moment shock faded into something deeper, something colder.  She'd been right though- as the tide of war rolled on, the sharpshooter had followed her into twilight abyss not long after that last thought drifted away and the soldier's pothelmed head slumped forward in stupor for the very last time.  And she'd been wrong- no farflung field drenched in blood could ever escape the baleful gaze of hungry gods.  So what should have been an end was only a beginning couched in pain, a signal of what was to come as the faithful soldier's soul was plucked away from the howling depths- and put to better use.


A dozen times more in service of an angry god she would rise, and fall, and each time she remembered the blade, the bolt, the crackling terror of magic's last rending pull from the land of the living.  A dozen times marching, a dozen times dying, and every campaign imprinted on her tired bones.
          Then she woke up here.


The tiny halo hovering over her head suggested she was dead, she'd figured out that much.  But whether her arrival at these strange shores was Sergeant Summer's final after-afterlife party, reward for centuries spent in leal service..  or simply yet another cruel trial by the divine.. she had yet to decide.


                    What You See.




WIP








                   What You Don't.
                      (OOC Things)

This character is not primarily interested in sex.  Erotic roleplay is not impossible, but very unlikely.

Lights can be discovered through roleplay.

Absolute No:  The usual suspects, halflings, tentacles, animal parts, non-consent.

No tells please.