[hider=Statement for Tecca Nina] Tecca Nina is quite an imposing figure, and through her value to the Imperium and consequent rejuvenat treatment seems much younger than her true age of, by her estimation, 48 years. Tall and slender, she is pale-skinned and in possession of dark hair down to her shoulders, a combination of traits that many men would find highly attractive - were it not for her eye sockets, empty and permanently seared black by the scorching light of the God-Emperor's soul that once coursed through her. For politeness' sake, she tends to cover the hollows with a black blindfold bearing the symbol of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica on its front in pale blue, a neat and tidy covering for a gruesome disfigurement. Additionally, she wears long black robes that cover her body, themselves bearing both the symbol of her Adepta in pale blue on the front, the Imperial Aquila in white on her back, and the Aquila again in white on the hood. Privately, these items of apparent cloth in fact double as protection from harm. Woven into them is a mesh of thermoplas cells that stiffen when subjected to kinetic energy and heat, dissipating that energy and keeping her safe from harm whilst remaining quite lightweight. Additionally, to those who might somehow think she is easy prey and are not deterred simply for being an astropath, she typicaslly carries on her person some form of pistol and mono-edge sword, evidence of her importance as the master of Lycus Xande's Astropathic Choir and indicators of her own lethality if provoked. To say Tecca Nina is a severe woman is not exactly incorrect. The life experiences of a psyker once their powers awaken, and especially an astropath, are rarely positive in nature; hers have shaped her into a woman who will not tolerate being made light of by anybody, as in her mind she has gone through too much and come too far in spite of the odds stacked against her to allow such a thing. Consequently, those of higher rank than herself who disrespect her are generally treated with coolness, the bare minimum of civility required and no more, whilst those outright beneath her who do the same will receive naught but passive-aggressive insults, or indeed outright warnings if they go too far - never threats, though, because a threat is uncivil, and implies the possibility that you won't follow through when push comes to shove. To everyone else, though, she does her best to be helpful, understanding, and occasionally even kind. The God-Emperor's mercy works in strange ways - those who are most harmed are often most belittled, a circumstance she is personally well-aware of, and whilst she does not look back on her past with fondness or indeed grace, it has informed her quite a bit. Thus, she tries to show empathy to those in need, even the rare alien that the Imperium has seen fit to welcome into its fold, albeit tinged with pity and stern recommendations for the many. It is but rarely that this folds to naught but empathy, almost always for her fellow sanctioned psykers such as the choir she now leads, and to them she truly does act graciously, for it is a crushing sort of kindred that they share. Her relationship with the God-Emperor is... complex. Every psyker soul-bound to Him experiences the process in different ways if they do not die outright, from indescribable sensations to an enlightening discussion with Him. Some even expand their faith as a result, becoming the self-proclaimed Transubstantial Initiates that irk the Ecclesiarchy so. Nina falls into the somewhat broader category of astropaths who merely experience agony, though the sensation was certainly indescribable, and as a consequence she is of two minds. Was it necessary? Certainly; even her particular strategies would not have worked forever. Did it help her? Arguably; having a shard of the Emperor's soul tied to hers has certainly kept it safe from harm. Is she less enthused with Him as a result? Entirely - but then, she can hardly blame the God-Emperor directly. His agents are far more culpable as sinners, after all. To that end, when she does talk about her faith in Him, she tends to keep her statements modest, largely espousing kindness to others as she herself displays, if only to offset but slightly the cruelties both necessary and needless of the Imperium's more questionable servants. That being said, to the heathen, the heretic, and especially the witch, she of course has nothing but contempt. Even now, coming to terms with a traumatic past has been a cripplingly hard task that often keeps her up until the late hours, but she at least accepts that the sanctioning process and the Soul-Binding that blinded her was a necessity to keep her safe from worse things. They who would avoid either or both, and ultimately they who would act against the God-Emperor Himself, are unworthy of His grace; at best to be directed to the Black Ships, at worst to be eliminated and forgotten, for that is the greatest kindness one can do them. Most xenos also fall into this category, but she is at least able to acknowledge that if her master were to take any on board, there would likely be a good reason for it. The Inquisition does not act lightly, after all. [hr] [i]A silent plain filled with twirling, be-ribboned dancers, jigging to an inaudible tune, with a king jigging hardest of all.[/i] The Governor of a nearby planet is inviting a friend in another subsector to a ball. It has been misdirected; it is sent on its way. One minute twenty four seconds pass. [i]The tide grows. An ineffable green wave of screaming death approaches, and too few spears to repel it.[/i] Orks attacking a world, resupply needed. Relayed toward the relevant authorities in the Departmento Munitorum. Thirty eight seconds pass. [i]A verdant missile lances into an oversized, cancerous heart. The heart burns away, to be replaced by one of steel and iron, already being aimed at.[/i] The Salamanders had a successful xeno-cleansing mission, but they're starting to come to blows with the Adeptus Mechanicus, who claim lost technology may be present. Diplomatic support required. Relayed deeper into Imperial Space. Five minutes seventeen seconds pass. A page is written in her mind on the subject of humanity facing a war against a new, powerful alien species. No further astropathic messages. As another astropath relieved her of duty for the time being, she breathed deeply, reconnecting to herself gradually as she traversed the halls of the facility back to her room. She began taking in a touch more detail as she passed through, making herself aware of the minute flaws in the individual plasteel panelling, scrapes and fractional dents, and the way footsteps echoed off of the walls and floor as if those flaws weren't present, and gradually the idea of emotion was remembered. Not that it mattered so much, under the circumstances, for after time spent in the Choir, there was rarely anyone who wished to do anything other than retreat into themselves for a while, just to be alone. And to make sure everything was still there. Her space was relatively spartan. Furnished well enough, with a bed and a set of drawers for clothing and a shelf of reading material, and Adeptus Astra Telepathica symbology indicating that this was the room of an astro-telepath, but nothing especially personal. There hadn't been time in the Relay, or time before then in fact, to gather possessions unto oneself; even now, Nina had nothing particular in here that she might not replicate within her mind. Writing implements? Why put word to paper, when one had long since mastered the art of generating a novel in one's head? Though she might put in a request for them eventually; she'd started to come up with something she reckoned might be a hit across the Imperium, if she was allowed to publish it herself. Though she'd need people to read it before then to make sure it was properly formatted, and... well, there weren't many who she might ask at all, let alone people who'd be interested anyway. And on the other hand, she didn't need anyone else to consider the newest trait of hers. In fact, it may be preferable for them to not know, depending on how they'd react. With a sigh, she began to draw just a portion of her psychic power out, projecting it gently across the facility. Where her perception had been limited to the scope of her room before, now every being within a wide berth became a clear marker to her - the astropaths in the Choir shined brightest, whilst the staff maintaining the place were dimmer, and the servitors projected but a spark of self even as they ran their protocols and menial tasks. To do this regularly was to teach herself better and better control, to keep her powers in check just so. The portion of the Emperor's soul within her was hardly going to just let her falter, naturally - but she'd rather not push the limits of His potency. He helped those who helped themselves, as it were... well, even then, she pondered, many never had the ability to. Such was the way of existence for far too many. Could he not spare just a little help for some of those in the Hives, maybe ensure they were- Somebody was coming toward her room. She didn't know this soul, it glimmered differently. Immediately, she shut her power off, brushing down her robe and preparing to receive the inevitable rapping on her door... there it was. Striding smoothly to the doorway, she opened it up to receive her visitor. 'Hail, sir,' she uttered, taking in his details as she offered the Aquila, and received it in kind. Quite well put together, frankly. 'And what brings you to the quarters of a mere astropath?' 'I'd be correct to presume you are Astropath Tecca Nina, then?' His voice was not so much unemotional as uninflected, and the fact he knew her name already implied either the authority to find her by name, or intentional following her to learn it in advance. '...I am, sir,' she nodded. Best to assume the former for now - as suspicion confirmed when the man pulled an unassuming brown wallet from his pocket, and opened it to reveal a sigil she'd been privy to many a time as a Relay, even if in this circumstance it implied follower rather than leader. She knew what it was... 'Excellent. You've been requested by Inquisitor Lycus Xande. He expects us to return within ten minutes; you should have time to gather anything you require.' ...but what it meant for her was a little unbelievable. An Inquisitor? Beneath her blindfold, Nina frowned. Was he for real? Did he expect her to... well. He certainly looked the part. And he had the rosette, after all... But, she imagined she may not have a choice, even if she tried to refuse. Just like so many other events in her life. She could at least put on a brave face for this one. 'Of course, sir. I've nothing to gather, so shall we off?' she offered with a smile as genuine as she could provide, stepping out and closing the door behind her. 'I wouldn't want to keep an Inquisitor waiting, after all.' And she suspected she wouldn't see the inside of that room again, one way or another. [/hider]