Weight: 126 lbs
Rusalka is deathly skinny, little more than tough, stringy muscle underneath cracked, leathery grey skin. Her teal hair is dry and shaggy, and unevenly cut. Her once-bright grey eyes are covered in a milky white film, but she persists in wearing a pair of rather battered wire-rimmed spectacles, apparently without noticing that one eye is missing glass. An old scar slices across her left cheek, the unhealed skin dry and scabbed, a gleam of white bone sickeningly visible. She has an eyebrow piercing, and her left ear is pierced twice, her right ear thrice. Her nose is crooked, her eyebrows strong, her jawbone delicate and her cheekbones high, accentuating the gauntness of her haggard face. Her hands are bony, with fingers curved into claws, and her teeth are crooked, dry and yellowed, but her smile still comes easily and often.
Ruska wears a ripped and stained green button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and frayed, riveted dungarees. Over the shirt is a bulletproof biker's vest, its dark leather scratched and with lighter strips where Ruska has ripped off the previous owner's patches. Her black bandolier is fraying and could do with a good scrub. She wears battered Kevlar shoulder, elbow, thigh and knee pads by way of armor, and fingerless leather gloves discolored with sweat and blood. She wears a black bandana over her decaying face, but in the outposts it's often pulled down around her neck. Against her throat rests a slim, tarnished gold chain.
1 crossbow, well-oiled and modified to throw almost anything
60 crossbow bolts, crafted of a variety of things including: steel, bone, wood, plastic, and a large sex toy (special occasion only)
1 extremely sharp bowie knife, which looks like it means business (sheathed against calf)
1 battered switchblade (back pocket)
Rusalka grew up in a small city on a big lake, in a large house with a lot of cats. A young university student putting herself through college, Rusalka studied physics and never really paid attention to the Improbable Island television show, with it's whacky antics and crazy monsters. She couldn't afford a TV, anyway, especially not one of those clunky post-EMP ones, and though she watched it occasionally with her aunts, Ruska was hardly convinced of its veracity until her door was kicked in and she was kidnapped and dropped out of a fucking plane. A month later, she died fighting the Drive. Now she's rotting from the inside out, but is otherwise cheerful about her predicament. She spends her time building her house, kicking ass, and researching the effects of Improbability.