the powerful play goes on

I. general

name: beatrix villanueva 

nickname/hero alias: trixie, trix, bea (family/very close relationships) | sangrienta

faceclaim: diane guerrero 

age/date of birth: 34 | august 14th

gender & pronouns: cis woman | she/her

orientation/marital status: pansexual | single

distinguishing features: thorned rose ring (never removes), ever changing hairstyles/extensions, intricately designed stiletto nails, jet black smudged eyeshadow

occupation: a-rank steward signed with valerian | previously mountain guide (colombia)

power: blood manipulation

height: 5’2” 

place of birth: manizales, colombia 

family: mom, close cousin, no siblings, father m.i.a.

current residence: somewhere in harlem

II. iconography

character inspirations: morrigan (dragon age: origins), isabela (dragon age 2), darlene (mr. robot)

character tropes: thrill seeker, blood mage, the rebel, vigilante 

zodiac sign: leo

mbti: enfp-a

positive traits: passionate, undaunted, opinionated, protective, autonomous, whimsical 

negative traits: reckless, impulsive, self-indulgent, stubborn, impatient, distrustful 

likes: shouting from a mountaintop, casual vandalism, menthol cigarettes, double espresso shots, lying for amusement, spontaneity and surprises despite almost never being surprised by anything

dislikes: "the system and puppeteers", routine, self-restraint, unsolicited advice, uptight and self-righteous people, virtuousness and overcaution

fears: boredom, vulnerability, mundanity, mass control

habits: restless legs, chainsmoking, gambling, consistently inconsistent, general (perceived... she knows best!) questionable decision making

hobbies: aerial acrobatics, motorcycle racing, cliff/skydiving, skateboarding, painting/street art, urban exploration (in colombia: deep sea diving, speleology, rock climbing)

pets: none (too much responsibility)

III. bio

tw: blood / injury / allusion to s/h (not trauma or m.i. related/no self mutilating motivations involved)

beatrix was raised by her mother, who had her when she was only 16 years old. because of this, it was as if the two grew up together and learned from each other's mistakes throughout their lives. although she was always close with her mother, trixie would never allow herself to be restrained or controlled, even as a child – and especially as a teenager. thankfully, her mother was supportive, coming to her defense whenever she got in trouble at school and providing encouragement toward her reckless endeavors – including their shared habits of gambling and occasionally overindulging in vices. she trusted her daughter to be wise, street smart, and resilient enough to survive whatever she may encounter, and knew there was no point in trying to stop her from doing as she pleased, anyhow. plus, that would've made her even more hypocritical than she already tended to be. in some ways, trixie contemplates on whether she really had a mother raising her, or just a best friend and enabler throughout her formative years.

it did not take very long for beatrix to discover her permutation, given her inclination toward the vaguely life-threatening activities that tend to come with some injuries along the way. she always noticed that her scrapes and scratches healed significantly more quickly than others as a child but did not pay much mind to it, as they were fairly minor injuries and she assumed she was simply lucky. however, as she got older and engaged in more and more high thrill pursuits, the risk of injury increased. after sustaining a deep cut to her knee in her late teenage years while rock climbing and realizing that the wound had stopped bleeding entirely before she could even complete her journey to the top of the wall, she grew suspicious that there might be a more complex reasoning behind her accelerated healing.

after further investigating her suspicions with her “poking method,” she immediately experienced an increase in her energy and had a strange internal feeling that she could actually somehow control the flow, temperature, and state of matter – yet she was unaware of the degree as to which she was capable of such manipulations. with further experimentation and very privately practicing, she concluded that she was indeed capable of manipulating blood in some very strange, yet dominant ways. trix developed her power into what it has become today through trial and error as she continued (and sometimes continues) to push it to the edge of its limitations, growing somewhat of a fixation on enhancing as many valuable defensive and offensive abilities as possible. she believes that if she is going to be any sort of 'hero', it seems that they all had to sacrifice something in some way to get where they want to be, so there's no reason she should be exempt.

this seemingly harmless inclination can be incredibly risky in relation to trixie's power, as sacrificing too greatly during these well-intentioned experiments could be fatal. however, trixie mitigates this serious risk by never removing her thorned rose ring in order to ensure that she always has access to her trusty "piercing activation tool." this allows her to avoid needing any drastic means of activating her power -- despite her various dicey endeavors, she has astute situational self preservation instincts and fully intends on living her life to the nth degree, here for both a good time and a long time.

even prior to discovering her own power to its fullest extent, beatrix had a sort of fascination with permutations and a disdain toward those who were determined to suppress and ostracize permutated individuals. she frequently studied ‘the violet sun radiation event’ and the different ways that it affected people, as well as the laws and regulations that came to be as a result. upon becoming familiar with her own permutation and researching the professional heroism industry, she figured that if her power would likely eventually be discovered anyways, she may as well get something out of it and make a name for herself. besides, perhaps it could be useful (and satisfying) to strike fear into the hearts of those who wished to do so toward people who really didn’t deserve it. 

beatrix views the professional heroism industry as a means of control, exploitation, and suppression. she thinks that “corporate puppets” who evaluate marketability choose to willfully misunderstand permuted people are “projecting their personal insecurities about their own lack of originality and spice” onto people with powers – although she also acknowledges that their mindset is a part of a much larger issue rooted in historical ostracization. she also considers the f.b.a.i. 's rankings to be arbitrary and reductive, believing that every power is meaningful to someone, therefore their value should not be determined by an individual assessment. however, she subconsciously relishes in being simultaneously feared and praised for her fierce abilities.

IV. wanted connections

partner in crime: someone that trixie (mutually!) views as her equal in power, strength, and fierce personality. basically they would become besties, but probably start off as semi-rivals on the surface. they would go from seeing each other as competition to admitting that they’re better off working together rather than against each other as they grow a closer friendship. — ⋆ ✮ ❥ filled by zaya (flare) ♡

the mentee who becomes the mentor: a gentle, kind soul that beatrix is real protective over! she initially intends to be a source of guidance, comfort and support for them (can be to help them further develop their powers, move up in ranking, general emotional support/working through things, etc., any motivation that works for their muse is up to their own discretion :)). she sheepishly and hesitantly finds herself seeking these things from them. hopefully she finds what she's subconsciously looking for in them and they maintain a positive, balanced friendship, but muse's response is totally their own call! this dynamic is lowkey a projection of her relationship with her mother and what she wasn’t able to find within her.

— ⋆ ✮ ❥ open!!!  ♡

slow burn friends-to-lovers: beatrix is not very emotionally transparent. she has difficulties/embarrassment about showing vulnerability and a pesky tendency to tell unnecessary lies for “self protection,” so she’s not the most well versed in committed, monogamous relationships. however, the right person could definitely turn her heart soft and lock it in. :) 

— ⋆ ✮ ❥ open (tbd over time if someone decides she’s worth the potential trouble)!!!  ♡

online childhood friend/bestie: the only real connection trix already had established before moving here is with a friend she met online as a preteen. the rest of her childhood friends are back in colombia, so she has a special place in her heart for this friend and they find safety/solace in each other. they know each other’s deepest secrets and most embarrassing moments, and balance each other's personalities, strengths, and weaknesses! 

— ⋆ ✮ ❥ filled by sarah (slapstick) ♡

♡always open to any form of original connections/dynamics/plotting!♡

V. memes

Trix smirks in amusement as Flare turns her back and proceeds with the training she’d been there for – including a continuation of her criticizing her behavior. She didn’t take it personally and interpreted her “true or not” comment as a mutual refusal to admit that she was also correct on her read about their shared fixation for power and control. “I’m not concerned about ‘future brand collabs’,” she says, making air quotes with her hands. “A week is like a month in internet time – those morons will forget my response before the time the next mediocre campaign drops. I’m not exactly new to negative press,” she says, scoffing. “Besides, you really think brand deals like these ones are my main thing? The ones that want me, need me. You of all people should know how profitable abilities like ours are by nature.” She preferred making her money and maintaining status by performing seemingly impossible stunts for the highest bidding brands and picking up the most risky assignments possible, which kept her just “marketable” enough to stay with Valerian. Her permutation made it so that she was frequently one of the first stewards called to dangerous scenes anyways, and given the places she’d run into Flare in the past, she knew she was also at the top of the list. 

While Flare smugly puts on her mini-performance, Trix watches along slyly and slow-claps dramatically after she lands a flip. Clean, sure, but when it came to stunts, nobody could put on a show like Trix – it was her specialty, after all. Still, she was entertained by her efforts to get under her skin and flex, but had no desire to risk damaging her priceless dress today to prove a point in response. “Hey, maybe it’s more durable than I thought! It must be if it can withstand such intensity.” She snickers at Flare’s emphasis on “the likes of me,” admiring her counterpart’s dedication to denial. She wonders if this commitment to their perceived rivalry is rooted in obstinacy, wariness, amusement, or – much like herself – a combination of the three. “If I want the power and control?” She laughs out loud at the impossible idea of genuinely not having power in any instance outside of this situation. 

She smiles to herself and answers with her version of enthusiasm, greeting her friend who knew her well enough to understand that she was being genuine. Sarah was calling to confirm their plans tonight, which Trix had truthfully forgotten about. She decides that it’s not worth mentioning that part and suggests they hang out at her house to have some wine and catch up. After they hang up the phone, she gets out of bed to straighten up a bit. Although she didn’t feel it was necessary to do too much since the two had such a long history of close friendship and shared comfortability, she still wanted the place to be presentable. Her home was cozy, but very spacious – much larger than her childhood home in Colombia – which meant more upkeep than she was used to, even after years of being here. She was looking forward to seeing Sarah and wondering what’s been going on in her life recently. She always made her laugh and distracted her from the more negative thoughts floating around her mind, which would definitely be appreciated right now. 

As if making actual blood sacrifices isn’t enough, she thinks to herself, rolling her eyes. She turns a corner toward the training room, an area of the building she’s only vaguely familiar with. She prefers training to push her permutation abilities to their limits, which could only be done in isolation… outdoors – it could be a bit messy and off-putting from an outsider’s perspective, given her permutation. Deciding that this would be an optimal location away from prying eyes, she halts to reapply her lipstick. She was far more likely to be stopped for photos when presenting herself as Sangrienta, even without wearing “that dumbass athleticwear.” Plus, the powder room was always a hotspot for “influencers,” and she didn’t want to risk running into insufferable people making content that she found especially stale and performative.  Just as she’s about to make her way back to the main lobby of the Valerian tower, she hears someone whistle in her direction, which Trixie reacts to with immediate internal hostility. A woman’s voice calls out to her, “Oi! Someone seem a bit pissy for not getting the Under Armour deal.” She whips her entire body around, wondering for a brief moment who could possibly have the gall to address her this way, before remembering that there is only one person audacious enough. She is not surprised – and rather relieved – to see Flare, meaning she wouldn’t have to commit a public homicide or boil any blood today. The two had a unique, mutual understanding and respect. Feeling lucky running into someone who likely wouldn’t have qualms about her negativity toward the campaign (despite her provocation), she is surprised to see Flare in the Under Armour athleticwear.  Trix always perceived her as similarly choosy and particularly discerning about the jobs she takes up, and assumed this wouldn’t be her cup of tea. Well, if there’s anyone else who would be associated with athletic durability, it would definitely be Flare, she thinks to herself. She’s the only person that Trix reluctantly views as her equal in terms of permutation abilities, unruliness, and overall ferocity. Frequently finding herself internally conflicted between admiration and competitiveness toward the woman, but always amused by their interactions, she smiles sarcastically and saunters in her direction. “Maybe just a wee bit. What can I say?” she responds with a shrug and pinching gesture. “I like being the one doing the rejecting. It’s a new feeling for me – I’d think you of all people might also be unfamiliar with not being in the driver’s seat all the time,” she says slyly. “Testing out the product, I see? You don’t look very thrilled with being on the flipside either. So, is it as durable as they say? Let’s hear your review,” she prompts her in a playfully sarcastic tone.

Trixie decides to pick up a new skateboard on her way to the park – because, well, why not? – and immediately gets to what she went there to do. Executing some of the tricks she finds most challenging in attempts to escape her thoughts by forcing herself to focus intently on the activity, she pays no mind to peering eyes and onlookers. Today, she wasn’t performing for anyone else. Right now, all she was in the mood to do was empty her mind. She wanted to feel as though the only thing that existed was her, the wind in her face, the sound of rolling wheels, and the feeling of gravity falling under her feet. Deciding it was time for a cigarette and hydration break, she screeches to a stop and the world halts around her. Before she has a chance to take a proper breath, scattered applause erupts. Smiling with effort, she puts up a peace sign before the enthusiastic small crowd continues going about their own business and practicing. They were respectful, as she was a regular and didn’t draw as much attention as she might’ve while pulling those moves at any other skate park. She walks off the ramps and toward an area of the park that was always somewhat empty, pulling the hood on her black hoodie over her head. It was times like these that she vaguely longed for her true identity to be a secret. While these moments were rather fleeting and Trix usually rather enjoyed making a spectacle of her stunts, it just seemed like one of those off days. Luckily for her, the skate park was far from fully packed today. I guess everyone wants to be invisible every now and then, she thinks to herself as she makes her way to her usual bench. Plopping herself down and retrieving her water bottle from her tattered backpack, she takes a few gulps and sets it down next to her. Getting lost in the internal nostalgia that sometimes comes with skating and thoughts of home, she finds herself mildly startled when she feels a small tap on her shoulder. Before Beatrix can react fully, a kind voice politely asks if she might know where the lost and found is. Although Trix was not especially friendly or courteous – on or off the clock – the stranger had an authenticity in their voice that made her refrain from snapping immediately. She turns around to view the source of the sound, revealing a woman she did not entirely recognize, although she was amused by her choice of clothing – could it be a fellow steward, or just someone with interesting tastes and an affinity for masks? She couldn’t really recall meeting her before, but there was always a chance she had simply slipped her mind. “I’ll do you one better and take you there,” Trixie responds, deciding she has nothing to lose by taking a walk alongside the timid stranger with the compelling wardrobe – she seemed interesting enough, and that was really all she cared about when it came to meeting new people. She knows the skate park like the back of her hand and had the unfortunate experience of losing an earring there in the past, so may as well help out. Returning her water bottle to her black backpack, she hops up from the bench and turns toward the mystery lady. “If you tell me what the outfit is all about and who you are on our walk there. I’m Trixie, by the way,” she informs her, despite being aware that most people know exactly who she is due to her status and permutation. Regardless, if there was any worthwhile conversation to be had here, she was not exempt from acknowledging that an introduction was necessary in order for most people to feel comfortable in encounters with her. ‘Sangrienta’ did not necessarily have the best reputation, and there have been a few times she’s scared people off unintentionally because of her permutation, reputation, or general attitude. She begins leading the way all the way across the park next to the woman. “The lost and found isn’t far from here. What exactly is it that you’re looking for?”

Beatrix flips her sheer, embroidered red veil over her face, ready to fully present herself as Sangrienta – not that she ever made any attempts to hide her identity, as she was far too proud of her powers for that. Pressing her lips together to ensure even lipstick distribution – after all, the veil was never meant to hide her face – she takes a deep breath and exits the ruby glass elevator doors (one of the very few things she finds herself in awe of at the Valerian Universal building), entering the lobby. Taking in her surroundings, the first thing she notices is a tripod set up that happens to be facing in her direction. It’s only just a moment after standing up just a little bit straighter for the camera that she notices the person in front of it, Atlas... or Keegan, was it?  She vaguely remembers meeting him a few times, though the two had admittedly never really talked enough for her to form a solid opinion on him. From what she did know of him, he was supposed to be one of those “wholesome heroes” that got under her skin and the type she actively avoided, for everyone's sake and safety. However, she recently began trying to make an attempt to talk to people one on one before officially confirming whether they were, in fact, truly insufferable as individuals, not just as their “hero” personas -- well, those that were worth getting to know, anyways. Many of the people associated with Valerian were excessively bubbly, falsely entitled, or generally dull for her to care enough to find out. Maybe he was different, and there's only one way to know for sure. “Hey! I’m doing a live and unboxing the Under Armour goodie bag! Do you want to say ‘hi’ to the viewers?” he calls out enthusiastically. Trixie can’t help but smile slightly at his (what seems to be) commitment to fulfilling his duties to promote the Collaboration effectively, whilst still hoping he didn't truly take it too seriously. I’d bet Valerian would eat someone like him alive. The easier for them to tame, the better, she thinks to herself somewhat solemnly, picking up on his warm tone and timid energy immediately. She grins somewhat forcefully and walks toward the camera, tempted to say something snarky to the viewers about Durapeak being “bullshit! durable, my ass.” but resists the urge in order to spare Atlas from having to deal with any backlash before she could decide whether or not he could handle it.  Instead, she leans in slightly closer to him and replies facing the camera, being as cheerful as she can without seeming excessively performative, simply for his sake. It couldn't hurt to have one moment of positive press to outweigh her usual antics. “Of course! How is everyone doing? Playing nice, I hope! Thanks for tuning in to the Under Armour unboxing!” She turns to him with exaggerated enthusiasm and adjusts the camera slightly so that he is in the center of the frame again. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got in that bag!” she says encouragingly, smiling at the camera excitedly and raising her eyebrows dramatically with supposed "anticipation.” She gestures for him to continue his video, internally wishing for it to be over soon in the hopes that perhaps the two could actually chat and get to know one another. Or so she could escape the situation, depending how it went.