Arias

The little head researcher and doctor of a research expedition on the laboratory fortress on Blackwater Key, a gloomy island surrounded by fog and haunted by horror, drawn in by their meddling with terrible forces beyond the veil of sanity.

Her appearance is that of a small girl in her teens. He hair is unnaturally white and styled in a straight bob cut, and her blue eyes look dead and lifeless. She comes up to an average adult's chest.

Her actual age is in the seventies, but her body was aged down after conducting an unearthly ritual to escape death. Originally only intending to lose a few years, but whatever dark, chaotic entities they communicated with must have thought it would be funny to take it further. At least her back pains of old age were gone, but having to ask others for help because she couldn't reach high shelves was annoying.

Her backstory wasn't much brighter than what she's currently doing. At a young age, her city was near the front lines of a war with a neighboring country, and she had to work at an infirmary to help treat cascades of wounded soldiers. Her first experience with true horror was when the other side started using incendiary weaponry, and the sight of the first wave of fire victims.

She later began properly studying medicine and managed to get a doctorate in her twenties. She taught as a professor for a few years before being hired to work in medical research for an entity under the ministry of defense, where she spent most of her life. When the government showed interest in the island of Blackwater Key, she was part of the first expedition which landed ten years ago, and would later rise in the ranks due to her skill and mental resilience.

Her somewhat recent de-aging (about two years ago now) has not taken away from her authority as the head researcher and chief officer of the expedition, and anyone who has known her before then would never question her competence. Even though she cutely stumbles and struggles with tools that are too big for her sometimes.

Her long experience with the occult and her work as a doctor and surgeon has left her desensitized and lacking in compassion. Her speech is abrasive; she doesn't hold back or sweeten her words. She will chat casually while burning human corpses and talk about the last creature they took down like it was her grocery list.

She won't hesitate to kill, dissect, lobotomize, or sell to the blood feeders anyone who threatens her or any of the gang of nerds who make up her crew. What keeps her going is her endless hatred for the warped higher beings who bring these horrors into our world, and the abhorrent cults who worship them as gods. That and strong, unsweetened coffee.

Despite her cold lack of sympathy, she's not evil and won't harm innocents. That's the one boundary she and her fellow researchers will never cross, lest they become no different from those detestable cults that plague nearby cities. She holds her fellows in high regard above anyone else, since they are the only ones crazy or curious enough to accompany her where no sane person would dare.

A handgun is always holstered on her waist under her white lab coat, and a small flamethrower is strapped to her back; her weapon of choice. Because fire scares many night horrors away, and creates enough light to reveal what hides in the darkness. It also gives her a distinct smell of gasoline whenever she's around. She's also trained in hand-to-hand combat, though it's doubtful how effective that can be in her current size.

Other than managerial duties and regular reports, her usual work involves her role as a doctor, studying the various relics and captured creatures, and helping defend against whatever gets angered by their rituals.