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Cookie is a Half-Dead member of High Society. She's one of the few areal undead there and thus, despite being a woman*, earned a coveted position of "jock" in The Cat's unpleasant organization. However she continually questions whether her high status has more to do with the defiling mutations of her body or actual skill and insight. This anxiety isn't helped by The Cat's casual misogyny.

When alive, Candace "Cookie" Jones was a former beauty queen turned supermodel living in Toronto. She enjoyed a high standard of living, wining and dining with the most crusty of upper class nouveau riche and jet-setting around the world. But high standards came with great cost, and the older Cookie got the more creams and surgeries and diets she endured to keep up with demand. She was only 29 when her fairy tale life came to an end. She lost her job and her place as arm-candy for the sweet elite and unfortunately hadn't been careful enough with her savings to manage more than a modest home, working as an anchor for a small news outlet in New Brunswick.

The onset of the zombie apocalypse was, to her mind, a chance at glory once again. But the network disagreed, preferring to ship in reports from elsewhere. Cookie still tried to provide commentary, even unique insight by sending out reporters to new locations or diligantly researching the coming menace. She tried to send supplies down to cousins in Connecticut in the meantime, growing increasingly anxious at the United States' government's scattered and inconsistent reaction to Wendigo's rise. Nearby Quebec's government had already taken charge and began closing off borders, forcing Cookie to make a difficult decision. Hop south and hopefully bring her family up north to the safety of Canada with her vouching for their goodwill.

Midway down, she was bitten. Her family's plight completely forgotten post-death and only her charmed youth recalled with any clarity.

Cookie is continually plagued by paranoid concerns, obsessed with her reputation and her worth judged against others. Her self-centered nature is mostly accidental; she does not deliberately fish for compliments but her pervasive talk about how amazing you are compared to her own "shitty" self (despite evidence to the contrary) will net her sympathy. This subconsciously drives her continuous put-downs of herself. Cookie imagines herself humble, but given her prevalence for talking about herself even while complimenting you, that might not be the case.

This said, she's blunt and to the point when not fixating on herself. She has a fantastic eye for detail and will go out of her way to appease people.

Cookie's Wendigo typically expresses itself as her former modeling agent, Alister Franklin, a sharp-toothed tiny man of few words and biting wit. He'll encourage her to push herself to sometimes unsafe limits to "prove" her worth, convince her that lingering fears are part of vast conspiracies and comment on her weight (not wanting her to get too heavy for "beauty"...but really just not wanting her to be unable to take to the air). Sometimes his comments about other people have her laughing, other times she'll be silent among a crowd eyeing folks while her Wendigo urges vigilance. Occasionally, this paranoia becomes so severe that she'll upend her entire room, or physically lash out at friends. Her Wendigo even convinces her certain humans are responsible for certain woes, encouraging her to satisfy her hunger or punish them for making her afraid.

The undead Cookie creates often have large portions melted off from her potent acid, with burns as severe and disturbing as her own.

Cookie's abilities include a strong upward leap, a long tongue that can squirt caustic acid, long bone-tipped claws, and modified legs that enable her to glide while her torso hangs down to attack.
She's incredibly light, being between only 70 and 100 pounds (depending on how much she's eaten). She's also quite fragile, preferring to disable her victims with blinding acid or stealth attacking from the air. Her damaged neck is also a weak point; cutting the cord mesh there means she struggles to keep her hefty tongue in place. She can run, but it's awkward and bounding. Walking is more like a bow-legged shuffle. Her teeth are not especially sharp, so she relies on her acidic "venom" to digest the more stubborn parts of her prey's anatomy.

Cookie exhibits paranoid personality disorder and claustrophobia. She also has boughts of anorexia, often neglecting to feed herself for days after an initial feast. Her fear of conspiracy and slight motivates false generosity. The more concerned she is about your position over her, the more she'll ingratiate herself.

She's also very cognizant of her "non-functionality". Burns and infections from her time as a lesser-level undead rendered her genitalia unusable. Yet this mutilation didn't remove her own innate desires or interests. Cookie still wants to be wanted, she isn't happy to be sexless just because she's "old' and unpleasant looking. Yet her jealousy and lack of self-esteem hobbles her problem solving ability, meaning she won't seek out solutions. She'll mostly whine.

Description
for

Cookie is a Half-Dead member of High Society. She's one of the few areal undead there and thus, despite being a woman*, earned a coveted position of "jock" in The Cat's unpleasant organization. However she continually questions whether her high status has more to do with the defiling mutations of her body or actual skill and insight. This anxiety isn't helped by The Cat's casual misogyny.

When alive, Candace "Cookie" Jones was a former beauty queen turned supermodel living in Toronto. She enjoyed a high standard of living, wining and dining with the most crusty of upper class nouveau riche and jet-setting around the world. But high standards came with great cost, and the older Cookie got the more creams and surgeries and diets she endured to keep up with demand. She was only 29 when her fairy tale life came to an end. She lost her job and her place as arm-candy for the sweet elite and unfortunately hadn't been careful enough with her savings to manage more than a modest home, working as an anchor for a small news outlet in New Brunswick.

The onset of the zombie apocalypse was, to her mind, a chance at glory once again. But the network disagreed, preferring to ship in reports from elsewhere. Cookie still tried to provide commentary, even unique insight by sending out reporters to new locations or diligantly researching the coming menace. She tried to send supplies down to cousins in Connecticut in the meantime, growing increasingly anxious at the United States' government's scattered and inconsistent reaction to Wendigo's rise. Nearby Quebec's government had already taken charge and began closing off borders, forcing Cookie to make a difficult decision. Hop south and hopefully bring her family up north to the safety of Canada with her vouching for their goodwill.

Midway down, she was bitten. Her family's plight completely forgotten post-death and only her charmed youth recalled with any clarity.

Cookie is continually plagued by paranoid concerns, obsessed with her reputation and her worth judged against others. Her self-centered nature is mostly accidental; she does not deliberately fish for compliments but her pervasive talk about how amazing you are compared to her own "shitty" self (despite evidence to the contrary) will net her sympathy. This subconsciously drives her continuous put-downs of herself. Cookie imagines herself humble, but given her prevalence for talking about herself even while complimenting you, that might not be the case.

This said, she's blunt and to the point when not fixating on herself. She has a fantastic eye for detail and will go out of her way to appease people.

Cookie's Wendigo typically expresses itself as her former modeling agent, Alister Franklin, a sharp-toothed tiny man of few words and biting wit. He'll encourage her to push herself to sometimes unsafe limits to "prove" her worth, convince her that lingering fears are part of vast conspiracies and comment on her weight (not wanting her to get too heavy for "beauty"...but really just not wanting her to be unable to take to the air). Sometimes his comments about other people have her laughing, other times she'll be silent among a crowd eyeing folks while her Wendigo urges vigilance. Occasionally, this paranoia becomes so severe that she'll upend her entire room, or physically lash out at friends. Her Wendigo even convinces her certain humans are responsible for certain woes, encouraging her to satisfy her hunger or punish them for making her afraid.

The undead Cookie creates often have large portions melted off from her potent acid, with burns as severe and disturbing as her own.

Cookie's abilities include a strong upward leap, a long tongue that can squirt caustic acid, long bone-tipped claws, and modified legs that enable her to glide while her torso hangs down to attack.
She's incredibly light, being between only 70 and 100 pounds (depending on how much she's eaten). She's also quite fragile, preferring to disable her victims with blinding acid or stealth attacking from the air. Her damaged neck is also a weak point; cutting the cord mesh there means she struggles to keep her hefty tongue in place. She can run, but it's awkward and bounding. Walking is more like a bow-legged shuffle. Her teeth are not especially sharp, so she relies on her acidic "venom" to digest the more stubborn parts of her prey's anatomy.

Cookie exhibits paranoid personality disorder and claustrophobia. She also has boughts of anorexia, often neglecting to feed herself for days after an initial feast. Her fear of conspiracy and slight motivates false generosity. The more concerned she is about your position over her, the more she'll ingratiate herself.

She's also very cognizant of her "non-functionality". Burns and infections from her time as a lesser-level undead rendered her genitalia unusable. Yet this mutilation didn't remove her own innate desires or interests. Cookie still wants to be wanted, she isn't happy to be sexless just because she's "old' and unpleasant looking. Yet her jealousy and lack of self-esteem hobbles her problem solving ability, meaning she won't seek out solutions. She'll mostly whine.