Taffy is a naturally anxious, yielding person who'd sooner be used as a throw rug than disagree with someone. She's followed by a constant need to make herself as small and as convenient as possible in hopes that people either ignore her outright or deign to talk to her like a normal person. Over time, she's become so used to aversion or just outright aggression that anything that could be interpreted as remotely neutral-to-positive behaviour directed at her is enough to make her decide that she's going to be in debt to you forever. Despite this, meeting new people is oftentimes the highlight of her day, despite the anxiety that comes with it.

In private and online, she's almost comically sunshiney at all times, and determined to help people with problems she has no reason to involve herself in for no reason other than that it feels like the right thing to do. It's where most of her social circle comes from, actually- her desire to right every wrong she sees, no matter how minor. Due to past incidents, she's not likely to drop this habit anytime soon. In a way, she's compensating for something that's lingered in the back of her head for God-knows-how-long that she can never really atone for.

Cryokinesis

A skill that came with the host. Taffy is resistant to extreme temperatures, as well as being able to cool her body and anything she touches down to freezing. Anything cooled using her cryokinesis still has to be brought back to room temperature through normal means, however long it may take depending on its starting temperature.

Air Manipulation

Another skill that came with the host. Dragons don't possess complex vocal chords, and communicate by subtly manipulating the air around them into similar patterns. Taffy is capable of easily "throwing" her voice without it losing its volume, and will typically lip-synch along while speaking for others' comfort.

Everyone knows Taffy, but very few have a good word to say on her name. It's difficult if not nigh-impossible to come up with something remotely positive about the woman, a fact that locals are eager to share with anyone interested in supporting her business. Before her infection, she was known for her abrasive personality and widely-known violent streak, a reputation that she was perfectly happy to uphold. Social interaction was a nightmare to her, and she'd sooner die than distract herself from her work.

The new Taffy, however, seems to have other plans. She's polite and delicate, something akin to a tyrannosaur at a tea party, and appears blissfully oblivious to just what people think of her. She's not, of course- it's just that acknowledging it would likely be too painful. After growing close to her host's parents, pressure from her superiors to infect one of them due to their status as the owners of a quickly-growing "clean eating" chain led to her eventually caving. It's stuck with her ever since, and Taffy now concerns herself less with the invasion (if not having abandoned it altogether) and more with fixing people's image of her. If she doesn't, she'll end up validating her own fears.

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Taffy's host had everything all planned out. She viewed herself as a woman of actions over words, isolating herself completely in favor of chipping away at her life plan. She was quiet, standoffish, and prone to threats of violence towards those who interfered- and, considering her strength and stature, they worked well for her. What she didn't plan for, however, was how her habit of cutting off all relationships would affect her work. Business slowed to a trickle, and she was effectively running the shop alone. Her life began to exist in a vacuum sealed bubble, away from any and all distractions that could detract from her reaching her goals. She took the lack of interaction as a blessing, and she settled into the routine quickly. Delivery is a blessing.

Crabs, however, don't do routine well. They'd never been in a host before, and having one found for them came as a blessing- they'd been searching for far too long, and self-consciousness was starting to creep in. Now that they wre finally stationed, they'd be able to spread the Mignyan infection with efficiency and subtlety. After all, that was what they were there to do! They had the guidance of more experienced Mignyans with several invasions under their belt already to guide them, and she trusted in their advice. They'd know better than them, and they were determined to make them proud and follow their advice to a T!

Unforunately, life isn't so simple. Taffy was completely unaware of the reputation she'd inherit from this specific host, not to mention the rough personality she'd have to emulate. It went directly against her people-pleaser nature, and she frequently found herself slipping character as soon as people got even slightly upset with her. Which was often. It was greatly unsatisfying, but she had so many eyes on her and so few prospects for other hosts that she'd simply have to deal for the time being. The stress lead to her seeking comfort in her host's parents, never really around due to business reasons but happy to see her coming out of her shell at last. Over time, they grew rather close, with Taffy having nearly forgotten her goal of invasion in the process.

Her superiors didn't take kindly to that.

It came in the form of a private fireside chat. Taffy said she had something to confess- which she did- but that secret would die with her anyways. The crab nestled in her sweater collar chittered in nervous excitement, and the pit in her stomach only deepened. Over and over she swore to herself that it was for the invasion's sake. It wouldn't matter. It was for the greater good. In the moment, though, pinning one of the sole people you'd come to respect and really admire to the ground with one hand and trying to pry his mouth open with the other and trying so hard to ignore the concerned knocking outside the door and the sound of him begging for his life, begging to know why you'd do something like this, any thoughts of invasion took a backseat.

Her work was sufficient. She wasn't bothered by her seniors anymore. It was likely for the better. She'd come out of the altercation a hollow shell of a woman, stunned into silence and practically quaking as she left the room. Of course, he was dead. His body was moving, but he was dead. No longer a confidant, but just another coworker to rag on her for not keeping up with the invasion. Her host's mother couldn't know. She could never know. God knows what would happen to her if she found out. That last lifeline- all she had left. God. Isn't it a miserable existence? Living like this? Such is the nature of these sorts of things.

Taffy poured herself into her work.

She'd moved all of her belongings to her host's parents' summer home, isolating herself in the middle of the woods bordering her city. Proximity enough to continue her work, but far away enough from prying eyes that no one would bother her. Deep inside herself, she did miss it- the social interactions and the developing of bonds and the reassurance of someone in your corner who wouldn't turn on you at the slightest provocation- unfortunately, as it was, she was simply unable to connect with anyone else.

Of course, she'd have to make some changes.

Bites her nails often.

Proud tech-illiterate grandma at the ripe old age of 24.

Hugs her pillow in her sleep.

Collects artisanal honey.

Scared of spiders.

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