Well. Unfairlady. Hmm. Lady? Not actually a lady, though, at some point she was striving to be. Unfair? Maybe. Most probably. Yes. She's... well, she won't tell anyone how old she is((not even her husband, or //especially// her husband)), and, anyway, time seems to be totally out of joint on the Island, so there's no telling. She's not young anymore, that's certain, quite a few lines and greying hair attest to that. She does keep the wiry, berseker energy of youth at times, maybe fueled by exotic substances, maybe natural.. who knows. Ok then, brief history? Here you go: Before coming to the island she was quite the vagrant. Born in Connecticut as Eleanor Rigby, (mother Selena Rigby, 19; father unknown), she was kidnapped at 4 by a man, Melquiades, claiming to be her father. Melquiades was the chieftain of a gipsy tribe that soon after that fled to Europe. The gipsy name they gave her translates roughly to Unfairlady, name she was worthy of by being a very ugly child. For the next ten years she lived with them (quite happily) and crisscrosed the old continent from Vladivostok to Cadiz, doing as nomads do, and learning the family trade((anything from fortunetelling to plain thievery)) At fourteen she was traced down and "rescued" by her mother and returned to live with her. At sixteen she ran away and started working in the local brothel. At nineteen she was the leader of a small local gang, called the RazerRats((losers, all of them, if you listen to anyone but her and a few surviving gang members)). At 25 she was informally leading the organized crime in Connecticut.((It was a bad time for organized crime there, police was especially fond of the ineffectual way she was leading said crime)). Later in life, she mellowed a bit and started more legitimate businesses and by the time she got //transferred//((read: 'the customary guys in suits came and put a sack over her head and applied a heavy object over said sack')) to the Island she was quite well off. At some point she decided it would be nice to become a lady and hired ((with corn money. What? There was a shortage of corn, therefore corn contraband was lucrative at the time))a certain Mr. Higgins to teach her manners and 'posh' English. Mr. Higgins was subsequently fired((with lots of //'divers alarums'//)), so one might guess it wasn't exactly a success. So that was before. Then, the Island.. tu-duuum... just happened. As with many contestants, the multitude of lifeforms she spent time as, left some traces. A tabby furpatch on a side of her face, complete with yellow feline eye, for a while, after being a kitty. A certain sluggishness and appetite for less savory sustenance ((brains)), after being a zombie. Short temper after being a midget ((hmm. Maybe not a post-midgetization effect, after all)). The usual. But she always snapped back to her original shape, after a while ((she must have a strong antropomorphogenerico... //somethingsomething// field)) After a while she absorbed one dose too many of Improbability and became a joker. But a Joker with no 'powers', except the weird dice((that became as grubby as the rest of her in no time)) and deck of cards((ditto)) that seem to come with the race. Frustrated with this((and somewhat jealous of other, more talented, jokers)), she did some research and came to the conclusion that all of it was to blame on her regular intake of //sunshine//. Now, //sunshine//((it's like moonshine, only it's made //in front// of the barn, instead of behind or in the barn)) is a potent brew, triple distilled ((from what? uhm. mostly apples)) and tasting and smelling like a long, hot, summer afternoon ((and like the first drops of rain on a dusty road, in the first thunderstorm of the year, and like freshly cut grass, and.. like many things, really)), but besides, it is known for it's anti-improbability . So she decided to forswear the thing((not at all easily)) and see what happens. And, oh boy, things //did// happen. First, she became a ghost-thingie, a bad copy of the white lady. Not being able to corporeally interact with anything was quite bad ((especially booze.. Booze is corporeal, it seems)). But then she became the Lady of the Lake, or an instance thereof. She spent that incarnation perpetually wet, boggy, marshy, miry, mucky, muddy, quaggy, sloppy, sloughy, soggy, squashy, swampy, waterlogged, clammy, dank, damp, moist, sodden, drippy, drizzly, humid, steamy, sticky, watery. Then, as she thought to herself it couldn't get any worse, she got afflicted with a multiple bodies disorder ((a bit like a multiple personalities disorder, but instead of having more people in the one body, she was one person in three bodies)). First of all she was the Wyrd Sisters, prone to unstoppable urges to burst in to verse. Then she became the Fates, spindle and scissors and measuring tape and all. When she came to sharing an eye and a tooth between all three of herself, she drew a line and resumed taking sunshine, as a remedy. It did her a lot of good, for, except for a brief stint as the multiple-limbed, blue Kali (till the sunshine kicked in) she's been pretty much herself, to her great delight ((other people might disagree that her being herself is a good thing. however, other people haven't been asked, so...))((Her husband fervantly agrees having found suddenly having three wives who were perpetually arguing with each other quite taxing.)). All those rather taxing adventures did leave some traces, or maybe it is the underlying Island's improbability asserting itself: she's left with some phantom limbs and even phantom bodies. However, these don't manifest outside of moments of great stress, and then she can't exactly control them, so what she does is mostly trip over them. Useful, hnuh?((more like a pain in the.. hrm, you know)) ---- Description? So you know to spot and avoid her before she buttonholes you about one of her get-rich-quick harebrained schemes? Alright then, here you go: look out for a small, wiry, disheveled female, roughly human, dressed in something indescribable((except as filthy)), carrying a bulging backpack and flashing uncomfortable grins containing more 18 carat gold that would go in three pairs of wedding rings. A triangular face, thin lips, a long thin nose, broken in two places, hmm... what else? Oh, yes, hair. Quite long, matted, graying, sticking out at odd angles from under the hat ((not Mister Hat, just a regular top hat)). Hope you're satisfied. Yes? What, sunshine? Ask her, ask away. She might even give you some to sample, she's almost always carrying some((and has secret stashes all over the Island)).