Faith isn’t really the schooling type, but she’s very street smart. While she can be manipulated (as with Gwendolyn Post), she’s actually pretty decent at judging people...at least as far as determining whether or not they’re a physical threat. While she’s not the best of the best, she does know how to think fast and judge the situation around her. It’s how she’s stayed alive as long as she has.
Emotional
While it’s possible to crack, Faith really does do well at maintaining the devil-may-care attitude. Especially now that she’s trying to do the right thing with her life, she’s got a better handle on her emotions and is a tiny bit better about not letting people immediately under her skin.
Weaknesses:
Physical:
Magic and weapons will hurt her as much as most humans. She just heals faster than most. If a wound would normally be instantly fatal, it’ll kill her too.
Mental:
Academically, Faith dropped out of high school. She’s not dumb, but she is likely to miss references that might be more obvious to someone who had finished their education. She’s also prone to being manipulated. Because she’s so desperate for acceptance, she’s more likely to miss waring signs when dealing with someone who is both dangerous and charming. She can identify smarmy people, but people like Gwendolyn or the Mayor (who are either genuine or very good at faking), can fool her.
Emotional:
Faith has a horrible temper...and she’s not always the best at handling stressful situations. She has a complete breakdown when Kakistos shows up in her apartment and is only saved by Buffy. She steal’s Buffy’s body from panic and jealousy, and later brutally tortures Wes to try and get Angel to kill her. While she’s doing better, she’s still not 100% in the coping department. She can also be goaded into things. While not necessarily the worst suggestion, she allows Robin to goad her into giving him another shot when he insults her sexual prowess.
Samples
First Person: [Faith plucks at the sterile white sundress, giving it a bit of a distasteful look as she addresses the journal] You know, I was getting pretty sick of the jumper and all, but if this is the price of freedom, I think I’d rather go back behind bars. What’s a girl gotta do to get some decent clothes around here?
[there’s an uncomfortable pause, before she sighs. Right. Might as well get it over with] Not that I ain’t grateful for the jailbreak and all, but... I wasn’t really looking for a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Part of the whole road to redemption, goody-two-shoes spiel. Pretty sure the day pass wasn’t really part of the deal.
But, hey. If this is gonna stick, I guess I can’t complain too much. I’m not lookin’ for trouble. Just point me in the direction of some decent music and a stiff drink. Someone does that, I think this place and me will get along just fine.
Third Person:
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The blunted sounds of contact were soothing, fitting perfectly with the familiar jolt through her arm as her fist connected with the punching bag. She didn’t bother with gloves. The skin of her knuckles had turned red, the first signs of scrapes appearing, but she didn’t stop. The pain was soothing, too. It helped ground her.
You don’t know what evil is
Thud.
Thud.
The bag swung crazily from the impact of her blows, the chain protesting the movement.
This place wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t LA. Hell, it wasn’t even Sunnydale, as far as city life went. And maybe it was just another prison, but she could wear what she wanted and the food actually had flavor most of the time (if she didn’t make it for herself), so really, she couldn’t complain. Except this was Buffy’s town. Same as Sunnydale had been. Maybe even more so, because here she wasn’t hiding. Here, Buffy was one of the champions, ready to ride in and save the day and everyone knew it.
And Faith was...
Something else entirely.
I’m evil! I’m bad! I’m evil! Do you hear me? I’m bad! Angel, I’m bad!
Buffy seemed to know more about her attempts to reform than even Faith did...but it still felt wrong. Off. Like she was invading Buffy’s territory just one more time, and she was out of place. A loose canon. Undecided.
It was what she deserved, probably. Karma, or turnabout being fair play, or some other line of bull shit that they fed to you during group sessions about facing consequences. So maybe it was just part of the process.
Didn’t mean she had to like it.
Thud.
Thud.
Crash
One particularly fierce punch, and the protesting chain gave way. The bag wobbled in mid air, almost like it was surprised to suddenly be freed from its support, before crashing to the ground. Bits of ceiling and drywall dust sprinkled down, making Faith grimace as she stepped back, holding her bruised hand. She considered the damage, face impassive, and then... “Damn.”
She left the bag where it had fallen, and headed out to the village proper. She needed a drink.
Re: Faith Lehane | BtVS | Reserved
Weaknesses:
Samples
First Person: [Faith plucks at the sterile white sundress, giving it a bit of a distasteful look as she addresses the journal] You know, I was getting pretty sick of the jumper and all, but if this is the price of freedom, I think I’d rather go back behind bars. What’s a girl gotta do to get some decent clothes around here?
[there’s an uncomfortable pause, before she sighs. Right. Might as well get it over with] Not that I ain’t grateful for the jailbreak and all, but... I wasn’t really looking for a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Part of the whole road to redemption, goody-two-shoes spiel. Pretty sure the day pass wasn’t really part of the deal.
But, hey. If this is gonna stick, I guess I can’t complain too much. I’m not lookin’ for trouble. Just point me in the direction of some decent music and a stiff drink. Someone does that, I think this place and me will get along just fine.
Third Person:
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The blunted sounds of contact were soothing, fitting perfectly with the familiar jolt through her arm as her fist connected with the punching bag. She didn’t bother with gloves. The skin of her knuckles had turned red, the first signs of scrapes appearing, but she didn’t stop. The pain was soothing, too. It helped ground her.
You don’t know what evil is
Thud.
Thud.
The bag swung crazily from the impact of her blows, the chain protesting the movement.
This place wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t LA. Hell, it wasn’t even Sunnydale, as far as city life went. And maybe it was just another prison, but she could wear what she wanted and the food actually had flavor most of the time (if she didn’t make it for herself), so really, she couldn’t complain. Except this was Buffy’s town. Same as Sunnydale had been. Maybe even more so, because here she wasn’t hiding. Here, Buffy was one of the champions, ready to ride in and save the day and everyone knew it.
And Faith was...
Something else entirely.
I’m evil! I’m bad! I’m evil! Do you hear me? I’m bad! Angel, I’m bad!
Buffy seemed to know more about her attempts to reform than even Faith did...but it still felt wrong. Off. Like she was invading Buffy’s territory just one more time, and she was out of place. A loose canon. Undecided.
It was what she deserved, probably. Karma, or turnabout being fair play, or some other line of bull shit that they fed to you during group sessions about facing consequences. So maybe it was just part of the process.
Didn’t mean she had to like it.
Thud.
Thud.
Crash
One particularly fierce punch, and the protesting chain gave way. The bag wobbled in mid air, almost like it was surprised to suddenly be freed from its support, before crashing to the ground. Bits of ceiling and drywall dust sprinkled down, making Faith grimace as she stepped back, holding her bruised hand. She considered the damage, face impassive, and then... “Damn.”
She left the bag where it had fallen, and headed out to the village proper. She needed a drink.