Xochitl M-04

First Name
Xochitl. Pronounced 'soh-cheel'.

Last Name
M-04. Serial Model-Type Number.

IMVU Name
Myrrh.

Age
Built in WW2. Rebuilt two years ago.

Gender
Female.

Height
5'2.

Weight
43lbs. Xochitl was built to be light.

Blood type
Diesel. You know because she's an Android.

Behaviour/Personality
Xochitl is very somber and indifferent. Acting alone can result in impetuous decisions, however Xochitl never thinks about the consequences. When she feels threatened, her system can exhaust-itself or shut down completely; thus leaving Xochitl at a disadvantage. Because the Android already went through her inquisitive stage, Xochitl minds her business and rarely asks questions she feels will not be 100% beneficial.

Appearance
Xochitl has thin, long legs that aid her in running, as well as wide feet for balance. She wears a scope-like accessory over her left eye which displays messages, tasks and other information inside the screen. The eye in which you can see is a dull red, surrounded by numerous thick, synthetic, lashes. Xochitl's hair is made from a horse's mane, a phosphorous and charcoal black color. She keeps her hair in a high ponytail for strategic purposes. The 'droid's bodysuit covers from her ankles, up to her wrists and mid-neck. It sends electromagnets throughout her core and fits more-or-less okay. Two tubes connected to her right thigh help circulate Diesel and other fuels/gases. Her boots are plain, ankle-length and tied tightly so she won't lose them during a mission. Xochitl sports gloves that help her grip her baby, an AR-15 rifle.

As for the details of Xochitl's face, they are severely average and don't really need that much credit. Simple nose, lips, eyebrows. Her skin is a plush ivory color, brushed on with the finest paint (unfortunately for Xochitl, she has to go in to get it re-done every month or so, otherwise it will peel off and chip away).

Clan & Rank
For the time being, Xochitl is a hitman, acting alone.

What district do you live in?
N/A

Relationship
Androids don't normally date, do they?

Occupation
N/A

Fighting Style
Xochitl uses mainly her weapons or simple hand-to-hand combat.

(1v1 me m8)

Weapon of Choice
The AR-15 Rifle! Xochitl loves guns, with the right training, she can handle many different types.

Allies/Enemies
Enemies:

The government.

Oh, also that Pablo kid down the street.

Background
''I'm working on writing this, but I will have to finish it at a later date. ''

PeakHuman System (Cyborg)
I chose three instead of five.
 * Enhanced Jump.
 * Enhanced Balance.
 * Enhanced Memory.

Roleplay Selection
Below is a reference to my literary skills.

There's this girl, let's say she has fair hair, blackened almost to a depressing blue. She wears it to the side, half behind her ear, swooning over her shoulder where it would rest loosely there. She had hazel eyes, that could almost pass for a sulking gray from afar. Her lips were thin and cute, making for enjoyable conversations. Her collar-bone was refined and pretty to look at, while her shoulders were firm. Her cheeks always flushed a pretty 'rose' that brought out her high cheek-bones. As you may see she was beauteous in most eyes, but her own. It wasn't that she thought herself ugly or repenting, she just didn't feel it was good enough, nothing she ever did was. She was empty. Now, let's call this girl Rhy. Rhy was always meeting new people, hoping they could be her forever-friends, only to discover they planned something totally different amongst the lines of using her for her ties. Rhy was never very happy, but when she was it was the best feeling she could ever have. She often horded the cause to herself, until the spell the object attained wore off, leaving her with that empty feeling again. Often times Rhy would go to sleep, expecting to wake up as a different person, because she never felt like herself, or this person whom lent their body to her. Now Rhy rarely went outside, her anxiety stricken self was mentally incapable of dealing with such horrid thoughts, so it was best not to prod them. When she would step foot into the opening, it was always for a short while and it was always bittersweet, ending in her obsessing over the fact that she can't have fun anymore. People rarely hung around Rhy, it wasn't that nobody liked her, no not quite. She was just so torn on the fact that she couldn't be who she wanted, that she stopped trying to make conversation or have special bonds with people. Sure, she could keep up a conversation and even interest some people, but her mind simply was not there. Slowly, she progressed to her inevitable climax ofrotting and decay, each moment dull and malicious. Rhy wouldn't think of happier times because it only hurt, and when people reached out to her she only smiled sadly and declined their offer, because she knew she was too far into this game to ever be pulled out. She tried desperately to hold onto the things that weren't reality, and they just slipped away, because it could never be. She wouldn't allow herself to drift into the fantasy world, because she couldn't afford being crushed and devastated at how little it resembled real life, and how she couldn't achieve that level of awe. Days began to make less sense and all she could do was drag her feet along the deserted pathway she found herself in now. She only wished the right person would hold her hand through it, not try to change her; for she could not be changed. But to accept this and love and cherish that priceless time that they could never get back, only look back on. That person might have been miles- days -away from her, because she could not see them, and she was getting closer to her expiry-date every minute. Rhy was just lonely, and she wanted a friend to be her nightlight on those cold and dark days, for the time being. Rhy stopped now, and laid down to wait, her hazel eyes closing for the last time.

''Here is a roleplay post incase you were interested. ''

The woman was snoring on an old rocking chair in a large library inside the Empire for which she stood. Earlier that evening she had gone and done a lot of cleaning, dusting bookshelves and moping floors of all the guck that the Legionnaires tracked in when they came back from their “pressing duties”. Jeanne d'Arc had been very tired when she finished cleaning up after the young fellows, so she took solace in the spacious room where all of the old, torn, and priceless books were kept. She could smell the vanilla particles soaked in the old yellowed-out papers and enjoyed it thoroughly. She liked the library so much, that she had practically made it her home. She couldn't sleep anywhere else, and her original bunk that she previously slept in has become somewhere where she sends her little ones if need be. All of her things were hidden in the nooks and crannies of the large room and nobody was aware of it. Jeanne d'Arc had been having a dreamless sleep until she was woken up by a tiny boom from the cellar door. She didn't expect that at all, her eyes widened and her limbs jolted. The woman threw her brown blanket onto the floor and stood high on her feet. She listened carefully; thrashing ensued but then went away just as quickly as it had come. She went to the large cellar door and pasted her ear to the cold metal; nothing. She decided that it was better to be safe than sorry, so she took her pocket key and shoved it in the lock of the door, a quiet but distinct 'click' resounded. She swung open the door, a wave of chills went down her spine. Jeanne d'Arc closed the door and locked it behind her, creeping down the very many stairs that annoyed her so much.

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''Please approve of me. :( ''