K.D.

Full Name: Kamille Danari
Nickname: Kami, Kami D.
Alias(es): The Fallen Star, The Right Hand
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 68.9 kg
Associated Colors: Black, gold, glacier green
Hair: As black as crow feathers, midnight tints seen whenever a few stray strands catch the light just right.
Hair style: When her hair grows long, she wears it in a french braid, worn loosely over her shoulder. When she cuts her hair short, her preferred style, the tips of her tresses end just below her jawline and the nape of her neck.
Eyes: She has irises of aventurine; as green and cold as the heart of a glacier.
Face: Kamille has a square-shaped face with a strong jaw and slightly upturned eyes. Her slim eyebrows have a slight arch and her eyelashes are long enough to leave crescent shaped shadows upon the smooth, creamy skin of her cheek. Her nose is strong and refined with no sign of an upturn while her lips are naturally full with a deep cupid's bow. Despite the many scars on the rest of her body, the skin on her face is clear and unmarred.
Body/Stance: Her body mirrors her face in discipline. She is tall and athletic, hard muscles toned under a rigorous training regime. She stands alert and aware, giving the impression of a panther moving through the underbrush. The most noticeable feature of Kami is the fully bionic arm that replaces the entirety of what should've been her right arm. The arm is made up of silvery-grey and scorched black bio-metals from her shoulder down and is capable of small transformations and reactive mechanisms that respond only to the owner's will. Embedded in the shoulder is a small triple-barrel; blessed bullets or tranquilizers can be locked-on and fired from there. Her forearm is capable of rotating to reveal a dual-sided steel blade, equal to the length of her forearm. Along the edge of the blade is an inscription, blessing the weapon against strong magic of most origins. The wrist of her bionic arm is very dexterous, able to rotate 360° whilst her metal hand is slender but powerful enough to crush bone.
Jewelry/Piercings: A gilded band of intricate design wraps the ring finger of her left hand. The edges of the ring are embraced in a delicate braid broken only by a thick cross that rises from the surface. On either side of the cross are two small turquoise stones embedded in a pool of pure Enochian gold. On the inner curve of the ring is carved an Enochian inscription: "Ol etahamezoda elasa a a dooain a micaelazodo dooain de a na." which translates roughly to "I bind unto thyself My Name; The strong Name of the Trinity."
Around her long neck she wears a rosary of Enochian gold and tiny turquoise beads, embedded in Enochian gold clasps. Upon the cross there is an imprint of Christ's body and the small carving of the nails on either arm of the cross. There is no image of Christ on her rosary, for he walks astride her.
Both items were gifts of protection from God through Gabriel. She wears no other jewelry.
Ring Inspiration: http://prntscr.com/k1bmjf
Tattoos: -
Scars: Fifty-two thin ropes of pallid flesh rise from the otherwise smooth skin of her back, the jagged remains of a severe and cruel lashing.
Known Languages: English, Hebrew, Aramaic, Latin, Ukrainian, Russian, German, Polish, Dutch, Spanish, French, Italian and Enochian.
Past Job(s): Exorcism Priest - Now excommunicated -- Excommunicated when she challenged the reasons the Church was capturing and torturing demons.
Leader of mob/crime network in Sujiaki city, inherited from Sujiaki clan and her father. Retired with trusted associate in place as leader.
Present Job: The Right Hand - Works directly for Christ via orders from various archangels.



The hospital stank. It didn't smell of old people, shit, and air fresheners like those awful nursing homes. No, this hospital had the stench of pristine cleanliness that burned the senses. It was the kind of cleanliness that masked death at whatever the cost. It terrified the little girl that stood at the service counter with her guardian. One hand desperately clutched onto a small, stuffed dog with matted fur. The other clung to the pant leg of her watcher. She didn't understand the words that the woman she was with was saying to the nurse with the ridiculously pressed uniform, and efficiently ignored their exchange while she looked around with wide, aventurine eyes. People like towers hastened by, each expression stoic and unwavering until they disappeared behind a door or down a long white hallway. Sometimes they pushed massive gurneys on unnaturally silent wheels and sometimes those gurneys had large bumps in them, covered with a neat white sheet.
"Kamille, come."
The woman's voice snapped the child out of her trance-like state, and her tiny fingers gripped her caretaker's pant leg tighter. She allowed herself to be tugged along obediently as she was lead down one of those ivory corridors. As they passed many a closed door, she could hear the cold, monotonous pulse of the machinery hidden behind each one. The life force for many of the people in this awful place.
Kamille and her companion were closing in on the only open door in this hallway, which seemed to emanate darkness. As they stepped through the frame, the girl saw that aside from a small, dim lamp in a corner, the room was shrouded in shadow. It did not smell clean, though it had the remnants of obvious attempts at cleanliness. It smelled of death and fear... and familiarity.