Mercy
Mercedes (whose name, for the record, is not pronounced like the automobile, though she is sometimes forgiving if monetary persuasion is involved) is many things, including but not limited to:
- a thinker-writer-dreamer
- an artist-ballerina-choreographer
- a mother of too many
- petite (read: travel-sized for your convenience)
- French-Romani and happily a mutt
- a lavender-scented pseudo-hedonist
- your ribbon-wearing worst nightmare
- devouring your soul
and several other extremely melodramatic things, such as hungry and delirious. She would also like to remind fellow roleplayers as well as the world at large, that she is frightening, and the Queen of Everything, and surprisingly shy behind all of this wiki-fied modesty. Somewhere deep, deep inside of her, if one conveniently overlooks the overwhelmingly intimidating exterior, and peels away layers of hostility and occasional well-meaning profanity, you will find a void of psychobabble only a few species of canine and several mollusks can understand.
The idea of roleplaying was swung at her head at the tender age of 13, and she willingly retaliated with wrestling-federation-esque, violent gusto, and has been latched onto its leg with her teeth every since. We are not certain who will claim victory at the end, but it is akin to witnessing a matchbox car-crash as portrayed by philosophy-spouting five-year-olds: pointless, precocious, and extremely foolish, but somehow you are still reading this article. Why?
In summary, euthanasia is highly suggested to counteract this organism's often-caffeinated and sugar-induced state of being, and there is the following advisory offered to friends and victims alike: mind your manners, mind your mind, rebel as often as possible, and laughter is the new pink. Hah!
