"You want to make a racket of this? Fine, I can make a racket."
Leffi was born on Sabaton to a pair of smugglers, who figured the abandoned prison was a good place to stay still for awhile without authorities hunting them down. Sure, the neighbourhood wasn't the nicest. Most didn't say "Hello" as you passed, and those that did had a mad glint to their eyes, but if you minded your own business, you might be fine. You just needed to stick around other temporary residents, as opposed to the much more dangerous locals.
Eventually Leffi fell in with a certain doctor. An old fellow, who had lived on Sabaton since it was still a prison and mental asylum. Originally locked away for inhuman practices, he had ambitious ideas about what the human body could do. He needed subjects to try his ideas on. As many as he could get his hands on, as so far, all attempts had gone... wrong.
Leffi didn't care about the numerous failures. It was worth the risk, in her mind. And after several years of increasingly potent and successful surgeries, where the good doctor infused her very being with as much mana as he could muster, he had no more to try. His ambitions had been completed, his ideas successful. And Leffi was the living, breathing embodiment of them.
Hitching a ride with her parents on one of their smuggling runs, Leffi made out for the more central Spheres, ready to strike out a profit on her own, using her new strengths. And a profit she's been making, in the past few years of working as hired muscle.
Story so farEdit
Waiting to be told...
At this point, Leffi's body is almost as much mana as it is flesh and bones. As series of experimental (and highly illegal) magical surgeries have made her something greater than human. Her skin is resilient enough to shrug off fire; her bones are as strong as steel; her fists can break bones; and her blood can heal an arrow wound in minutes. But by no means is she unstoppable. A sword can still rend her flesh; a hammer can still break her bones; a shield can still stop her blows; and an arrow through the heart will still slay her.
Her body temperature is that of someone running a very bad fever (approximately 110F) due to the energy of the mana imbued in her. By the same token, her breath has gaseuous mana in it, and she drinks liquid mana to keep herself going (about 150 ml/~half of an 10oz flask a day). Without consuming liquid mana, her body would begin to tear itself apart.