Lyxie jacob::. but all the stiffies call me lyx.

[lyxie]

001. NAME• Lyxzen Jacob Blaney
002. NICKNAME• Lyxie, Jake, or Lyx (but if you come up with something even more creative, that's fine with me).
003. AGE• 27
004. BIRTHDATE• March 9th
005. WHERE YOU LIVE?• I hang with the stiffies in NYC.

001. YOUR FACE• Lyxzen Suicide (Erica Danger if you're nasty)
002. HAIR• Her true natural color has been lost underneath the various hues of the rainbow. Currently, her hair is a natural-looking dark brown, but who's to say that she won't add a streak of red or blue in there sometime soon. The length of her wavy hair changes just as much as the color does, from at her ears to the tip of her ass. She enjoys the medium-length style for now, but next week she might get extensions or chop about six inches off.
003. EYES• Big, round, and chocolate brown. They're like melted drops from a Hershey's bar. Yummy.
004. HIEGHT• 5'7''
005. WEIGHT• 115 lbs
006. BODY MODS• The ink is randomly spilled out across every inch. We'd be here forever if I were to list out every tattoo. Piercings are on the ears, and a septum on her nose.
007. FASHION/STYLE• Who says you have to stick to just one style? Change is a very fun thing that Lyxie likes to mess around with a lot. One week, she can be total pin-up with black hair, bangs, and high waisted skirts. The next week, you might catch her Gothic with dark colors and lots of shiny, metal objects. Sometimes, she experiments different styles and enjoys seeing what mixing up punk rock and businesswoman can result to. Whatever she decides to cover up her inked out body with that day, she always owns her style and shows the world that no matter how intense and crazy it is, she can pull it off.

Make-up is sometimes worn at the bare minimum with just mascara, but her hair is always groomed, cut, colored, and looking good. Like her clothes style, her hair can constantly change. Sometimes she'll be pretty comfortable with the hair style she has and keep it for about a year, but most of the time you'll catch her with a new color every good few months. Sometimes she'll want to try orange, and then decide she doesn't like it so she'll dye here entire head black or dark brown. Maybe next time she'll try a strange of pink, white, or green somewhere, but whatever color she decides to spill on her head, it's never a color that she'll buy in a box at the store. Amazing hair comes at amazing costs, and besides herself, Andrea is the only person that Lyxie will allow to touch her hair.

001. LIKES•

• Fruit Juice
  
• Spicy Tacos (and eating, in general)
  
• Animals (Especially her english bulldog, Bo)
  
• Pink Floydd (and other various music artists)
  
• Good horror movies
  
• Bold colors
  
• Reading
  
• Running
  
• Piercings and tattoos
  
• Photography
  
• The violin
  
• Oh yeah, Dead things

002. DISLIKES•

• Alcohol
  
• Drugs
  
• Shallow people
  
• Lame pick-up lines
  
• Not catching her own tail
  
• Broccoli
  
• iPhones
  
• Disney
  
• Mommy and Daddy

003. FEARS•

• Becoming like her father or mother
  
• Being hunted while out and about in her wolf form
  
• Cockroaches that fly
  
• Dying without doing anything significant with her life
  
• Meeting her biological father
  
• Nightmares

004. STRENGTHS•

• She's a braniac... BRANIAC ... on the floor!
  
• And she's runs so fast; like she's never ran before!
  
• Open-minded and doesn't judge a book by it's cover
  
• Completely honest (which can actually be a weakness sometimes)
  
• Daring and spontaneous
  
• Brave and determined

005. WEAKNESSES•

• Lack of control between her emotions and changing
  
• Spicy food offers.
  
• Overly-curious at times
  
• Terrible at mocking a foreign accent
  
• Doesn't trust others easily (if at all)

006. ODDITIES•

• Her appetite. It's huge. And it was like that before she was bitten
  
• Doing random things in public like dancing, singing, and making funny noises
  
• She's double jointed in her ankles.
  
• She tends to talk to the bodies that she preforms autopsies on.
  
• Did I mention that she has a fascination with dead bodies?

007. ORIENTATION• Bisexual
008. SPECIFIC MORALS•

• Just say no to drugs, kids.
  
• Let's not be cannibals, okay?
  
• Don't swallow more than you can chew. Seriously, I've tried. It doesn't work.
  
• Disney is full of shit. Don't be brainwashed by them.

009. PERSONALITY OVERVIEW• The parent/child roles were switched with Lyxie and her mother at a very early age. Maturity was reached while she was young as she became the dutiful, caring mother, where as Beth became the dependent, spoiled child that was forced to be taken care of every second of the day. Patience and determination are the most dominant traits in Lyxie's personality. It's been said to be impossible to get this woman angry, although that isn't quite the case. There have been times where she has been angry, but those thoughts are often kept hidden away. Keeping active through running and changing into her wolf side is her therapy for releasing unwanted anger within. She would never raise her voice or retaliate in a violent manner toward anyone, even considering that she is a werewolf now. Not exactly a lover, but she's most definitely not a fighter.

She's far from naive, so don't expect to try to pull anything over her eyes. Lyxie knows very well how the art of lying and deceiving works, having enough practice with it when she dealt with her mother's "friends." She doesn't trust anyone she meets at first, and to gain her trust is probably a lot harder than even she thinks it is. Being an honest person, she isn't afraid to call you out on your lies either. She won't be rude about it, but don't expect to win any points with her by spilling out false words.

Being a werewolf almost makes perfect sense in her mind. A lot of her personality can probably be related to that of a dog's. Her curiosity and already huge appetite were only magnified to an even greater scale after she was bitten. Always eager to explore something new, there's been a lot of things that Lyxie's tried throughout her life and even more things that she wants to see and experience. They say that curiosity killed the cat. Well, it's a damn good thing that she became a wolf, then. Apart from that, Loyalty and easy-going are a few more characteristics that closely relate Lyxzen Jacob to the canine family. Friends are never left behind and there's always a helping hand from Lyxie to help them out in any way she can. She's the kind of friend you can do anything imaginable with, too. As long as there's food involved, don't be afraid to call her up at 3 in the morning with a spontaneous plan to go visit some haunted house or leave for a trip to Italy for a week.

Just be prepared to accept one thing with this friendship; her tiny obsession with the dead. There is no real reason for it; the obsession was just discovered after seeing the death of Katie. There aren't dead bodies pinned up on her walls or anything, but perhaps being overly excited about going to her job as a coroner everyday isn't exactly normal. Performing autopsies on the stiffies in her "office" is her favorite hobby at her most favorite place to be. The dead seem to interest her more than anyone alive ever could. They tell many more interesting stories than any of her friends do, and they don't have the ability to judge anything at all now that they're organs aren't working as well as they used to. Let's not forget the aesthetics she sees in death. Whether it's the end of life or the beginning of something new, the death of something has always appeared to be so beautiful and almost flawless.

001. PARENT ONE• Beth Anne Blaney, Drug whore
002. PARENT TWO• Liam Emery Vogel, Drifter/Prostitute/Thief
003. SIBLINGS• I probably have tons of siblings around, I've just never met them.
004. PETS• Bo! He's my English Bulldog and the bestest friend ever. CLICK THIS to see a pic of him.
005. HISTORY OVERVIEW•

Born a bastard child, if it wasn't for her grandmother, Lyxie would've most likely popped out with a few physical deformities as well. There were a few times that grammy came home at just the right second to catch her pathetic daughter about to sneak a line or a few bottles into her system. With Beth's excessive habits of drinking, smoking, snorting, and injecting everything she could into her system, there were most likely a few times that she succeeded in intoxicating herself throughout her pregnancy with a child she couldn't even remember the name to. It wouldn't have surprised anyone at all to find out that she did, and could explain why little Lyxie's mind had always been a little skewed from normalcy.

Obviously, her parents were the kind of people that should've never been allowed to children. She couldn't tell you much about her father, other than the fact that he was the drifting hooker that caused all of this chaos in a little town in Missouri. Traveling from one city to the next, he'd charm unexpecting women into letting him stay with them for a night or two, and then he would steal everything he could fit into those gypsy hands and was gone before the sun peaked through their bedroom window. Beth was one of the lucky girls that fell for his lies; he left her a little present in exchange for all of the money and jewels she once had.

When he left was when Beth's addiction began. Unknowingly pregnant at the time, she was obviously devastated that her one true love had left and taken everything of hers with him. One bad influence quickly led to her physical addiction to every substance that would keep her far away from sobriety. And then about month later was when she realized that she wasn't the only one being affected by the drugs. Not that Beth cared, but when her mother found the pregnancy test in the garbage, she took action and stepped in despite the fact that the baby was most likely going to be born a human vegetable.

Lyxzen Jacob Blaney was born a healthy girl though, at least that's what the doctors pronounced her as. It wasn't too many years after she was able to walk that her grandmother passed away, taking everything good and innocent she tried so desperately hard to save for the child. Lyxie was left taking care of her pathetic mother at the age of three, always tending to Beth's every "need." By the age of five she learned how to count change and the difference between a one dollar bill and a ten. "Baby, go the store and get your mother some beer."

"Fuck! Why are you just sitting there when the cupboards are so empty!? Can't you see that I'm stoned? Get out of here and buy me some burgers you stupid child!"

She never told her mother no. relentlessly, she would cater to every one of her needs, whether it was health for Beth or not. If she couldn't get out of bed to go pick up her crack, she would send Lyxie to get if for her. If she was too intoxicated to drive to the store for some food, Lyxie would walk a mile, no matter how late it was, to buy some puffy Cheetos for her stoned mother. Chips, old pizza, fast food, and take-out is all there was in the kitchen. It was probably every other kids' dream to live off of junk food, but a few fruits and vegetables wouldn't have been complete torture for Lyxie to eat every now and then.

Until she was old enough to fully understand Beth's condition, she felt sorry for her mother. As time passed, she saw how pathetic the woman truly was. Lyxie didn't look anything like her mother, which was why the old woman couldn't stand to look at the child half of the time. Damn this child for reminding her of the heartache she was never strong enough to deal with on her own. Beth was absolutely convinced that her daughter would run off, just like her father, and become a traveling little slut like him, too. There wasn't a day that she wouldn't let Lyxie forget about her ultimate fate. Despite having never said a word against her mother or the things she would do for her, Beth would scream at her anyways. "If you hate it here so much, why don't you just go run off like your daddy! Just go be the little slut you are and steal away all of their lives!"

She promised Beth that she would leave eventually, to which her mother only replied, "Just make sure that your ass never comes back here, too. Say hi to your whore of a father for me." By the time she was a teenager, she found it easy to want nothing to do with her mother. Lyxie didn't want anything to do with her father though, either. The same day that she made that promise to Beth, she promised herself that whenever or however she left, she'd do something important with her life and would make it worth something. She wasn't exactly sure what that something was, but she refused to end up anything close to an addict or a prostitute.

"Hey there, Sheriff Daniels." This town was way too small, if you asked Lyxie. "Yeah, I'm just calling to let you know that Katie's dead." The fifteen-year-old sat next to the pale, lifeless body, her curious eyes never ceasing to explore the scene in front of her as she spoke to the sheriff. "I'm alright, thank you. I just came to pick up an order for Beth when I found her in the bedroom. There's an open bottle of pills in her hand, but I don't think she died from taking pills." Her hand didn't even hesitate to reach out toward Katie's neck, and she didn't flinch at all as her fingertips brushed over some odd-shaped bruises wrapped around her neck. Before she could lean in for a closer look, the sound of sirens were already quickly growing louder. "Someone's here. I'll see you later, Frank. Bye."

It was during this moment, when the police rushed in the building and quickly shielded the horrific scene from Lyxie's young eyes, that she knew her mother succeeded in doing a line of coke during her pregnancy. All throughout the night, she couldn't stop picturing every detail of Katie's lifeless body. The smooth paleness of her skin. The nothingness behind her wide, blue eyes as they lost nearly all of the color to them. She was so stiff, and yet she looked so peaceful as she gazed above with her mouth formed in a perfect open circle. Meetings with Katie were never an enjoyable one. Beth would send Lyxie over to the drug lord's house with never enough money to pay for anything she was supposed to get. She'd use the same line over, "She'll pay you the rest next visit" blahblahblah. Katie hated it, and Lyxie didn't care too much for the screaming bitch either. At the time though, she was the most beautiful thing that Lyx ever laid her eyes on.

She never slacked off in school. Every assignment was turned in on time and done to the best of her ability in order to get the highest grade that she could. Track and field was a great excuse to stay at school and away from home even longer, and the coach was almost surprised at just how quick of a runner she was. During her entire senior year of high school, she was too busy earning scholarships and keeping her GPA up in order to impress NYU. The happiest moment in her life was when the university sent her an acceptance letter. She was really doing it. She was leaving this shit town in Missouri and there was no way that she would find herself broke poor being a forensic pathologist.

Unfortunately, the job she currently had did leave her with not enough money to buy a plane ticket to New York. What little savings she once had all went to a massive bill that Beth owed some other drug lord. That didn't leave Lyxie in too much despair, though. She had three months to get to New York, and if she had to walk those hundreds of miles there, she would do exactly that.

Hitch-hiking is a lot easier, though. You'd be surprised at how many guys would pick up the eighteen-year-old girl in a heartbeat, or maybe you wouldn't be too shocked. There were some that accepted the little bit of cash that she had in her pocket, and others who wanted a little more to pay for their services. If there was something that Lyxzen's mother had taught her that was useful, it was how to successfully run away from anything in life. There wasn't a price tag put on her dream away from home, but there were still some things that she could never allow herself to do.

"Wow, you look like shit." That's New Yorker for you; they are always brutally honest and make very blunt comments about very obvious observations. Lyxie nodded to the passerby as she remained sat on the sidewalk, leaning against the wall. The older male was probably in his thirties at least, with a nice suit and a pretty little engraved suitcase. Showers came as sparsely as food for Lyx herself, and clothes had to be stolen from what was left behind in the Laundry-mats. So, yeah, shit was an understatement to whatever Lyxie actually looked like, which could be closely described as her cracked out mother. It was a shocker that her school didn't kick her out, but being ugly and stinky wasn't exactly a good enough reason to expell someone from the campus. She would've lived in the dorms, but the amount that her scholarships paid for was already not enough, and the bank wouldn't let her take out anymore loans. New York was a bitch of a place to try and find some shelter in. "Hey, kid. I see potential in ya. How would ya like to earn some real money. The job even comes with a place to stay, if you don't mind a few room mates." It was really hard to say no to such a deal. Room mates were the least of her worries. As long as she had food, cash, and shelter, she was perfectly fine with whatever job he wanted to give her.

Escorts weren't really prostitutes, because then that would be illegal. They were a little more high class, meant to be only taken as party dates and such, but if you paid them enough, they could do anything that a prostitute could do and more. The unfortunate part was that the boss always expected his employees to say yes to VIP services, and there were a lot of men who would pay that extra cash for it all. She couldn't afford to quit, though. As her popularity and reputation went up, the pay went from really good to nearly high-roller status. Despite how much money she made, she'd never felt more disgusted with herself. Perhaps all of that talk of becoming like her father was true, after all. Lyxzen never gave up working toward her degree, which was the only thing she had to convince her that she wasn't like her parents, but she felt so low about herself every night she came home smelling like some expensive wine and sex.

After a few years, the feeling never went away but things could've been worse for Lyxie. A smart graduate student by day and a popular sex toy by night, her life still maintained a somewhat normal balance, until she met Tristan. Normally, she met her clients through Tony, her boss and the blunt new Yorker that found her on the street, but she ran into Tristan on the way home from an evening with one of the usual clients. He was so kind tonight, and didn't expect anything extra after going to some business party with her. Being in such a good mood, she had to stop by Blockbuster on the way home tonight and pick up a few movies to celebrate.

"You dropped a movie, ma'am." He mentioned casually after a few light taps on her shoulder. There wasn't a hole at the bottom of her bag, but that was definitely a copy of Shaun of the Dead that the man was holding in his hand, and she did rent that movie. She thanked him, and after a short conversation how funny the movie was and how rare it was to find someone who also enjoyed British comedy, he was invited to come enjoy the movie with her back at her place. A few spicy tacos and a lot of fruit punch later, they movie wasn't even hal-way over before they were tangled up between the sheets. Talk about her job was what influenced this rather promiscuous behavior. He offered to pay double her rate.. and her rate was pretty high already, so double was just something that she wasn't going to pass up.

It was all just a big accident. A little bit of a nibble on her breast turned into an accidental nip that was hard enough to draw some blood. Lyxie jolted from the piercing, but she'd be lying if she said that the pain was unenjoyable. Tristan immediately pushed himself off of her and mumbled out a few curse words before apologizing as though he had just tried to murder her or something. It was kind of confusing for Lyxie, and she tired explaining that it was all okay and they could continue if he wanted to. He just stood still, watching her intently for a moment. That was when things got a little hazy, and the last thing she remembered was another apology said before Tristan left her alone.

She brushed off the incident after a few days, convinced that there was something spiked in the fruit juice that caused her to pass out. The only thing that proved that Tristan wasn't a dream was the money that he left on the counter, triple her rate, and an application with a phone number to a hospital on it. After calling in sick for one day and brutally getting yelled at for it, she filled out the paperwork and dropped it off to the hospital. A week alter, she was hired as an office assistant and quickly ended her nights of being an escort. The pay wasn't nearly as good as before, but they had a scholarship program for her medical degree, and she was able to get enough of her schooling paid for that she could now afford to live in the dorms.

She'll even tell you herself, if you ask. Changing into a wolf is probably the most painful experience out there. Dying is probably easier than your bones twisting, crunching, and changing form in order to create a wolf-like skeleton, and your organs tightening and mutating don't feel too great, either. She had no idea what the hell was happening to her, but she was suddenly grateful at the fact that she decided to step through an alleyway in order to take a short-cut home. The entire process took about ten minutes, and she can't remember if she screamed or not, but if she did, no one came to help her out. Yay for New Yorkers not coming to the rescue like that. Now, Lyxie's never taken any drugs, but after those painful ten minutes, drugs was the only thing that could explain her newly weird vision of the world, the heightened senses she got out of nowhere, and the throwing up she did right after her Change. Looking down, a scream was SUPPOSED to come out of her mouth as she noticed that her arms turned into paws, but instead the scream came out as a howl ... and then another howl in place of a scream as she noticed that she was howling. Then she bolted through the alley, because New Yorkers wouldn't investigate a screaming chick, but a howling wolf called for some attention.

Going home wasn't an option. It's kind of hard to open up doors when you're a few feet shorter and you have no thumbs. So, Lyxie had to escape the city and head toward the suburbs, where there were more fields, and less people. She tried countless times to return to her human-self, and not only did she feel a little psychotic just thinking about it, but her attempts didn't work, and she grew so tired from trying that she just fell asleep in the small woods she wound up wandering into. The next morning, she awoke cold and naked, in her human form, in the middle of the woods.

Life's been pretty weird since then. Google helped her discover exactly what she was, a werewolf, and the whole night with that one man suddenly made so much sense. It took a few more years to get a pretty good idea of what being a werewolf was all about, but she took to the whole thing pretty open-mindedly. She hasn't figured everything about her new self out yet, but being a wolf wasn't something that she couldn't easily get used to. Sometimes, she'd drive out to the outskirts of town and then change and run around for a few hours. Keen senses were definitely a plus, most of the time. Glasses were now an accessory more than a necessity, and quick reflexes were extremely useful. Her appetite surprisingly increased since the bite, which was something she thought couldn't grow any bigger. Her sense of curiosity was also noticed a bit more now, and sometimes led her into some trouble.

Despite all of the recent events, she was able to graduate with her degree successfully and became what she originally came to New York for, a forensic pathologist. Working with the lovely law enforcement of New York City, she couldn't think of a better job for herself than to hang out with dead people all day and figure out how exactly they died. Life's great. Life as a werewolf is fun. And life away from Missouri is the absolute best.

Yo', my name is Eve-AH!, and I've been the walking dead for too many damn years, and I've been grave robbing for a shitload of years, I dug up lovely Crimson Kiss by means of I can't even remember. Google? and adore it.

001. ANYTHING ELSE?• What's a bitch gotta do to get some food around this place?!?!?!
002. ROLE PLAY SAMPLE•

A simple toss of her forefinger against the switch caused the fluorescent lights to flicker against the dark silver walls and tile in a way that wasn't intended to be as eerie as the scene appeared. Although, what the bright lights revealed wouldn't have convinced anyone to become a little more comfortable. Laying on a table was a pale body just as cold as the metal it rested on. Others were probably shocked to see him so still, but she expected him to be exactly like that. In fact, if he moved at all, she would've been the one squirming with discomfort instead of the hysterically crying woman in the darker room on the other side of the window.

Chocolate brown eyes squinted behind her clear, non-prescription lens as a pair of old school converses squeaked against the newly waxed tiles. The last sound anyone expected to hear in this room was probably a slurping noise, but that was exact sound made as the last few crushed up chunks of ice and cherry juice were pulled through a straw from the bottom of the cup, only to disappear behind curved pink lips slightly stained with a red too bright to be anything bloody or gruesome. Many other managers that handled employees like cashiers or waiters would always stress how important customer service is, and every customer should be greeted with a big smile and your nicest, "How are you, today?" But perhaps there was a reason that Lyxzen didn't take a course on customer service for her medical degree. After all, the woman with puffy red eyes and swollen, blushed cheeks didn't appear to even slightly cheer up at the site of the smiling, short-haired woman dressed in a open lab coat, with a Big Gulp slurpee in one hand and a scalpel being fiddled around with in the other.

The most innocent eyes widened slightly and curiously at the two older gentlemen with the lady, one dressed in gray and the other in black, both in business suits with cheesy ties. They didn't seem to be effected by Lyxie's cheery customer service either as the one with darker hair gave a stern, slight nod when the now sobbing woman turned and made her way toward the door. Her face scrunched up in a slightly guilty expression when she saw the investigator walk in the opposite direction, heading toward Lyxie's door instead of returning to his own desk. Her nose twitched at the scent of his cheap cologne tainting the dead air around her.

"You really should button up your lab coat. That's unprofessional."

Kyle was always after her about that lab coat, as if it really mattered if the buttons were undone or not. He states it's because of her chest tattoo, but Lyxie doubts that the dead people, even the more conservative ones, would say anything against her tattoos. After a quick toss of her Big Gulp cup, which landed with a beautiful swish in the tiny, round basket by the door, her hand quickly began buttoning up her coat, despite her slightly defensive reply of reasoning. "Sorry Kyle, I got a little hot." The investigator let out a sigh.

"It's Detective Jones, please, Miss Blaney." His hazel eyes shifted over toward the body on the table. "This one should be an easy one. Guy got shot once in the heart. You don't really need to do an examination if you don't want to. We can obviously see that he's dead from the bullet so the report should be easy to fill out."

A corner of her red tainted lips quirked slightly into a small smirk as she replied in her usual, happy and joking tone. "Silly Kyle..." Detective Jones was just too formal. "... Things aren't always as they appear to be. A detective should know that. I'll do the examination and have the report to you in about an hour." And with a smile she grabbed a pair of gloves and held up her handy dandy scalpel, which caused the stiff detective to let out a bursting chuckle.

"You're too damn happy for a coroner."

She knew that, but shrugged at the comment and made her squeaky shoes step over toward the dead body. As sad as the circumstances probably were for Mrs. Lanyard, there was no place, in Lyxie's heart, for mourning over Michael Lanyard's death. A pair of chocolate brown eyes nearly melted as they focused on this incredible scene before her. There he was, Michael, laying in a stillness some would describe as being stiff, but he looked more peaceful than that. With his eyelids permanently shut, and blue lips parted ever so slightly, he made death look more comforting than frightening, as though he was just drifted off into an eternal, deep slumber. And his skin, so pale that it shone underneath the bright lights, looked stunning; the man was incredibly handsome for his young age of forty-two. The horror in this picture simply didn't exist in the mind of Lyxzen Jacob Blaney, it never did. She knew she was in the minority with her views and thoughts on death, and she couldn't help but chuckle at her own opinions about the aesthetics of the lifeless body before her. She knew this wasn't a "normal" view that she had of a dead man, but Lyxie couldn't help that. This man was more beautiful in this form than even most of the men she escorted back in those times she preferred stayed unmentioned of. Such a beauty this man entailed that was so captivating that Lyxie didn't even notice the absence of her former company.

"Hey there Mikey, I'm Lyxzen Blaney, but most of the stiffies here just call me Lyx." As if the woman needed to show anymore signs of her obscurity. She was sane enough to know that they would never respond, but insane enough to not really care about that part. Conversing with her stiffies, or the corpses she worked on, became sort of a habit ever since she was younger and a little too obsessed with finding dead animals out in the vast Missouri fields. Sometimes habits can be pretty hard to shake off. "So, Mikey, tell me..." A few loud snaps echoed through the room as she pulled on her bright green latex gloves. She leaned over Mr. Lanyard, nearly able to feel the cold aura excreting from him. The sharp end of the scalpel dug through the skin right beneath his collar bones, and Lyxie has asked this question so many times, that it might as well become her signature phrase "How did you die?"