((There you go again, hitting that examine button and waiting for some description magic to happen, putting the spotlight entirely on me to engage you but not a whole lot because damn it you can't read this window and whatever is being thrown at you at the same time textwise. I made you a list for quick reference because I love you so much, but don't tell anyone you're my favorite. Also, there's some really poor attempt at humor ahead. You've been warned.))

Name: You saw it over her head, but incase you thought I was lying to you (You were my favorite!), it's Danielle Desmarais.

Race: Human (Lookit! No bits!)

Gender: Female (Ditto)

Height: 6'4''. Everyone makes fun of the tall girl.

Age: 36 and looks the part.

Eye: Brown

Hair: Brown

Skin: You guessed it.

Eyepatch: Black

Build: Strong.

Holy Symbols: Kelemvor

Dresses: Poorly

FUN FACTS (If you care to read the details):

-Wears an eyepatch because she secretly wants to be a pirate. (There's also a scar that runs under it, so there might be more to it than that.)

-Usually displays an insignia of the Doomguides somewhere on her colors, giving a very good hint at who's on the business end of her flail. (Hint: It's the undead.)

-Cuts her hair short so it won't get in the way of anything, not even the wind. Oh sure, some bangs fall down here and there, because when it's wet there isn't a damn thing she can do about it.

-Excercises daily, and all her hard work shows. For more unique physical aspects, she has a nasty scar on her right shoulder, around her right wrist, and on her right palm.

-Wields a long, barbed flail and all sorts of holy regalia that can produce some discomfort to those that oppose such forces.

In spite of the inherent coldness that comes with the task of hunting creatures of the night, Danielle seems far from the hard and harsh attitude that most of her peers possess, perhaps because the creatures she hunts tend to have opinions of their own, and no reservations about voicing them tirelessly to someone that just wants to flail them to (proper) death then go back to bed.

=====================================================

((This was longer than I promised you, but sometimes we have to hurt the ones we love, right? Of course not, that's nonsense. Who follows that? Up ahead is the OOC section in case my snide remarks didn't break the immersion enough for you.))

Green Lights: Go unts unts unts~

Yellow Lights: Go wub wub wub~

Red Lights: Go psh psh psh~

((Oooh shiiit it's a raaaaaaaave! Thanks for reading my incredibly irreverent description and all the awkward confessions of love it entailed. If you are in possession of any undead that wish to be, uh, hunted, then congratulations! Now you have someone to mildly groan at their existence. Feel free to approach, or risk being approached.))