Zaafira Cutitari

Zaafira stands 5'4'', dark hair brushes the middle of her waist with a gentle curl. It is typically found braided, or in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Brown eyes sparkle with mischief, a note of her typically 'fun' disposition. Her skin holds a light tan, her face dusted lightly with small freckles. Her ears are dotted with earrings made of bone, left unpolished. A single white scar mars her face, a thin line across her cheek. As you move down from her face, a large, raised pink scar stretches across her chest, a recent acquirement.

A tight-fitting dark shirt and leather pants are her typical clothing of choice, boots encasing her feet, hiding a blade or two within.

At first, Zaafira seems like an almost happy-go-lucky sort. Not super optimistic, but not an extreme pessimist, either. She's friendly, even when challenged, and seems to have a distinct lack of understanding of the concept of 'personal space'. Her sense of over-confidence can sometimes border the idiotic, yet it is not confidence in her looks, but in her abilities. More often than not, however, she is able to deliver, which doesn't help.

Unfortunately, Zaafira doesn't have a sense of strong morals. Whatever gets her to her goal, she'll do. And it doesn't always matter what she's doing, as long as she's working for the highest bidder.

It is when she is engaged in true combat (not sparring, or friendly challenge), that her darker side comes forth. When she was young, she studied the body, and the ways to best cause pain or damage without killing. Of course, she studied the most painful ways to kill as well, but her true joy lies in destroying, but leaving her victim with life still.

Zaafira grew up in the daughter of a military man, trained to shoot at a young age. Traditional schooling and the like kept her from being completely socially inept, and in fact, she's not quite the cold-hearted killer one would suspect of her. Quite passionate and friendly, she's almost out of place among her... coworkers.